Chapter 64

Chapter 64

Ava’s POV

I used to think silence was peaceful, but ever since Vanessa arrived, silence had become a different creature—sharp, heavy, filled with invisible whispers that clung to the walls and followed me from room to room.

By morning, her presence had already tainted the air.

I walked down the corridor with a laundry basket, hoping to slip past unnoticed, but life in Damien’s mansion wasn’t that merciful anymore.

As I reached the landing, I heard Vanessa’s voice—smooth and melodic, like honey hiding poison. She was on the phone, pacing near the balcony railing.

“I told you already… No, listen to me,” she said, her heels clicking sharply against the marble. “I don’t care what Damien thinks right now. I’m not going anywhere.”

I froze.

“For now, he’s tolerating her,” she continued. “But he’ll come to his senses. He always does.”

My breath caught. I knew she meant me. She didn’t even bother lowering her voice.

She huffed, sounding irritated. “Honestly, the girl is so painfully out of place here. I almost feel bad for her.”
She paused.
Then she laughed—soft but cruel. “Actually, no. I don’t.”

Heat pricked the back of my eyes. I stepped back, trying to retreat before she noticed, but the floor betrayed me with a tiny squeak.

Vanessa’s gaze snapped toward me.

Her eyes locked onto mine instantly, a satisfied smile stretching her lips.

“There she is,” she said, ending her call with a dramatic tap. “The little ghost of the mansion.”

I forced my trembling hands to tighten around the laundry basket. “I… didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

“Of course you didn’t.” She approached with slow, graceful steps. “Eavesdropping requires confidence.”

I stiffened.

Vanessa stopped in front of me, her perfume filling the space between us—intoxicating, suffocating, expensive.

“So,” she said, tilting her head, “did you hear anything interesting?”

I swallowed. “I didn’t mean—”

“That you’re out of place?” She finished for me, brows lifting. “Or that Damien will eventually come to his senses?”

My chest tightened painfully. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” she said innocently. “Talking? Existing?”

“Hurting me.”

She blinked, her expression turning unfathomably cold. “Ava, I’m not hurting you. I’m simply stating reality.”

The cruelty was so casual, so effortless, it left me breathless.

“You don’t belong here,” she continued. “Not because you’re not… sweet. You are. Painfully so. But this world isn’t built for sweet girls.”

She reached out and tapped my chin gently.

“Damien doesn’t do sweet. He does strong. Strategic. Elite.”

I jerked back from her touch, heart racing.

Vanessa smirked. “You see? Even you know it.”

“No,” I whispered harshly. “You’re wrong.”

She chuckled. “Am I?”

I took a deep breath, holding her gaze. “Damien brought me here. Damien chose this arrangement. Whatever you think you know about his life now… you don’t.”

A single brow arched. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

Her smile turned wicked—like a serpent’s just before it strikes. “Darling, Damien tells me more than you think.”

A chill rushed down my spine. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” she said lightly. “Just that men… confide in people they trust. Old habits die hard.”

She walked past me, brushing my shoulder deliberately. “You should keep that in mind.”

I stood frozen long after she left..

Was she lying?

Or… did Damien really talk to her?

The thought sank its fangs deep into my chest.



Later that afternoon, the tension in the mansion grew thick enough to choke on. I found Damien in his study, flipping through documents with a furrowed brow.

He looked up immediately when I entered.

“Ava,” he said softly. “Come here.”

“Are you okay?” Damien asked, noticing my stiffness.

I nodded automatically. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.”
His tone was gentle but firm. “Something’s off.”

I swallowed, forcing myself to stay composed. “It’s just been a long day.”

Damien wheeled closer to me. “Is this about Vanessa?”

I flinched.

His eyes darkened. “What did she say this time?”

“I don’t want to cause trouble,” I muttered.

“You’re not causing trouble,” he snapped—but not at me. His anger was aimed elsewhere. “Ava, I need you to tell me.”

Before I could speak, footsteps approached.

Vanessa.

She leaned against the doorway, arms folded, face bright with false sweetness.

“There you are,” she said to Damien. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Damien’s jaw tensed. “I’m in the middle of something.”

Her gaze shifted to me instantly. “Is she bothering you? She always looks… tense around you.”

Damien glared. “Vanessa, enough.”

She placed a hand on her chest in mock surprise. “I’m only asking. She seems… fragile.”

Every word she chose was designed to cut deeper.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Damien said sharply.

Vanessa’s smile thinned, but she didn’t back down. “Fine. I’ll give you two your moment.”

That’s what she believed Damien and I had—just a moment. Temporary. Fleeting. Easier to erase than to remember.

“I’ll be waiting in the east sitting room,” she added softly. “We still need to finish that conversation from earlier.”

Damien’s brows furrowed. “What conversation?”

She winked. “The one you keep forgetting.”

Then she left—with grace, with intention, with the certainty that she’d left a fresh wound behind.

Damien let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing his temples. “She’s exhausting.”

I nodded but said nothing.

He looked at me again, eyes softening. “Ava… whatever she suggests, whatever she implies, don’t believe her. She twists things. She always has.”

A flicker of hope sparked inside me.

I wanted to ask him. I wanted to demand the truth.

Instead, I whispered, “Do you… talk to her about me?”

Damien blinked, startled. “Talk to—what? No.”

“Not even a little?”
“No.”

My heart tugged painfully. “Then why does she act like she knows everything about us?”

“Because she wants you to believe that,” Damien said. “Vanessa thrives on control. Manipulation. She likes watching people break.”

The room fell silent.

Damien moved his chair closer. “Ava… look at me.”

I lifted my eyes.

“You’re not temporary,” he said quietly, fiercely. “Not to me.”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” I whispered.

Damien’s expression softened with a sadness I didn’t expect. “Then believe what you feel when you look at me. Not what she puts in your head.”

I wanted to.

God, I wanted to.

But just then, Vanessa’s voice floated faintly down the hall, laughing at something one of the staff said. A cold, confident laugh.

A laugh that said,

I’ve already started winning.

Damien noticed the shift in my expression.

“Ava,” he said urgently. “Don’t let her get to you.”

But she already had.

She’d planted her seeds.

And they were growing faster than I could stop them.

As I walked out of the study, Damien called after me, but I couldn’t turn back.

Not because I didn’t hear him.

But because I wasn’t sure which voice—his or Vanessa’s—my heart believed anymore.

And that was the most terrifying part.

Because seeds of doubt, once planted, don’t stay small.

They grow roots.

Deep ones.

And Vanessa was watering them every single chance she got.