Chapter 20 Chapter 20
Chapter 20
SELENE
I blinked, trying to process what I'd seen. It had to have been a trick of the light, a reflection, something explainable. People's eyes didn't just flash gold.
Did they?
Rosalie had taken the stage and was beginning her closing speech, thanking everyone for their generous donations, celebrating the foundation's successes. I stood next to Derek at the edge of the crowd, close enough to appear united but not touching, not connected in any real way.
And I couldn't shake the feeling that I was seeing my husband—my marriage, my entire life—clearly for the first time. And what I was seeing terrified me in ways I didn't fully understand yet.
Derek's hand found the small of my back, guiding me forward as Rosalie gestured for us to join her on stage. We climbed the steps, and I pasted on my smile, playing my role one more time.
But Rosalie's words kept echoing in my mind: There are things about our family, about what we are, that you don't know.
What we are.
Not who we are. What we are.
What did that mean?
The rest of the gala passed in a blur of goodbyes and well-wishes, guests thanking Rosalie for a wonderful evening, donors pledging their continued support. I smiled and nodded and said all the right things, but my mind was spinning.
What had Rosalie meant? What secrets was this family hiding? And why had that waiter's eyes flashed gold?
By the time we finally escaped to the car, it was nearly midnight. Derek had said maybe ten words to me since our confrontation in the sitting room, his attention absorbed by his phone. Jasmine, undoubtedly. Planning when they could see each other next, making excuses for why they couldn't be together publicly.
The drive home was silent except for the soft hum of the engine. Derek drove himself tonight rather than taking the town car—he often preferred to drive when he was agitated, like he needed the control. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his jaw set in a hard line.
I stared out the window at the city sliding past, the lights blurring together into streams of color. My hand rested on my stomach, hidden beneath my clutch, and I wondered what I'd gotten my baby into. What secrets were written into its DNA? What legacy had I unknowingly passed on?
When we pulled into the driveway, Derek killed the engine but didn't immediately get out. We sat there in the darkness, the tension between us almost palpable.
"What did Grandmother really say to you?" he asked finally, not looking at me.
"Why do you care?" The question came out more bitter than I'd intended.
"Because she's meddling in things she doesn't understand."
"Doesn't she? She arranged our marriage, Derek. She knows exactly what it is—a business arrangement masquerading as a relationship."
He turned to look at me then, his eyes finding mine in the dim light from the dashboard. "It's more complicated than that."
"Then explain it to me," I challenged. "Explain what she meant about your family, about what you are. Explain why people at the gala looked at you like they were afraid. Explain why that waiter's eyes—" I stopped, realizing how crazy it would sound.
"Why his eyes what?" Derek's voice had gone very quiet, very still.
"Nothing. Forget it."
"Selene." His hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. Not painfully, but firmly, preventing me from leaving the car. "What did you see?"
I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. "Let go of me, Derek."
"Tell me what you saw."
"I saw his eyes flash gold, okay?" The words burst out of me. "Just for a second when he bumped into you. Which is impossible, which means I'm either going crazy or so exhausted I'm hallucinating or—"
Derek released my wrist abruptly, turning away. "You didn't see anything. It was the lighting."
"Don't do that. Don't treat me like I'm stupid."
"You're not stupid," he said tightly. "You're just seeing things that aren't there because you're stressed and tired and looking for reasons to make me into some kind of monster."
"I don't need to look for reasons," I shot back. "You give me plenty all on your own."
I got out of the car before he could respond, slamming the door behind me. The night air was cool against my flushed skin as I hurried to the house, fishing my key from my clutch with shaking hands.
Derek caught up to me at the door, his hand covering mine on the key. "Selene, wait."
"What?" I turned to face him, and in the porch light, I could see the conflict written across his features. Frustration, anger, but something else too. Something that might have been concern.
"Just... be careful," he said finally. "Don't go looking into things that don't concern you."
"How can they not concern me? I'm your wife, Derek. Everything about you concerns me."
"In name only," he said, and the words landed like a slap. "You said it yourself—legal isn't the same as real."
He unlocked the door and disappeared inside, heading immediately for his study. I stood on the porch for a long moment, trying to compose myself before following him in.
The house was quiet, too quiet. I climbed the stairs slowly, each step feeling heavier than the last. In our bedroom, I changed out of the gown, hanging it carefully in the closet. My body ached with exhaustion, but I knew sleep wouldn't come easily.
I pulled on pajamas—soft cotton pants and a loose t-shirt—and went to the window. Below, I could see Derek in the garden, pacing back and forth across the stone patio. Even from this distance, I could see the tension in his shoulders, the agitation in his movements.
He tore at his tie, pulling it free with jerky, frustrated movements. Then his jacket, tossed carelessly onto one of the garden benches. He ran his hands through his hair, making it stand up in different directions, destroying the careful styling.
The full moon was bright tonight, illuminating the garden with silver light. Derek paced to the edge of the patio and stopped, his head tilted back as if looking up at the moon. And as I watched, something changed.