18.

Daniel's POV

I came back to the mansion late in the evening, my mind still spinning from the chaos of the day. The meetings, the calls, the endless demands. It never stopped. But as I walked through the door, the familiar silence greeted me, wrapping itself around the house like a heavy blanket.

I barely took a second to appreciate the luxury of it all. I had enough wealth to drown in, but it all meant nothing when things weren’t right in my life.

Vera.

She was here, somewhere. I hadn’t seen her much today, which was unusual. Normally, she’d be either working or pacing the halls, but tonight the house was quiet. Too quiet.

I found her sitting in the living room, her back rigid as she stared at the wall, the television muted in front of her. Her face was blank, her eyes unfocused. She wasn’t watching anything. She wasn’t even really there.

For a second, I just stood there, watching her from the doorway, the cold stone of my expression never wavering. There was something off about her—something different. She had always been strong, vibrant, even when she hated me, even when she wanted nothing to do with me.

But now? Now, she was just... vacant.

I didn’t say anything at first. I wasn’t in the mood to start another argument, and I wasn’t sure if I even cared to. She had been avoiding me all day, and I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t exactly the best person for her. Not that I had ever claimed to be.

“Vera,” I finally muttered, my voice cutting through the stillness.

Her head snapped around, but there was no recognition in her eyes. No fire, no spark, just a tired, empty look. I could see the exhaustion in her face. The kind that came from being forced to exist rather than live. It bothered me, more than I cared to admit.

“Are you just going to sit there?” I asked, my tone sharp, though I tried to keep it neutral. “Or do you have something to say?”

She didn’t answer right away. I watched as her lips parted, but the words didn’t come out. Her gaze flickered to the side, and I could see her struggling to gather herself. I wanted to reach out, wanted to snap her out of it, but I wasn’t sure how.

She wasn’t who I had married. I didn’t even know who she was anymore.

“Vera,” I said again, my voice a little firmer this time. “You can’t keep doing this. If you’re going to stay here, at least act like it.”

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t look surprised or even upset. She just... nodded, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

It struck me, how much she had changed. She was no longer the woman I had known.

I waited for her to say something, but she didn’t. She just stood up slowly, as if each movement required more energy than it should.

“Fine,” I said, irritated by the silence. “I don’t care if you’re angry, or tired, or whatever. You’ll learn to get over it. You’ll learn to live with it, because that’s what’s happening now. It’s what’s always been.”

Her eyes didn’t even meet mine as she walked past me, heading up the stairs without a word.

I stood there for a moment, watching her leave. A part of me wanted to stop her, to ask what was really going on in her head. But another part of me didn’t care. She was just another piece of the puzzle. Another responsibility.

I gritted my teeth and turned away, walking to the study. I didn’t need to deal with her right now. She’d either snap out of it or fall apart.

It didn’t matter.

I sat down at the desk, the weight of everything pressing on me. But for some reason, I couldn’t get the image of her face out of my head. I didn’t know what was happening to her, but I knew it wasn’t good.

I leaned back in my chair, running my hands through my hair.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

I had everything under control, didn’t I? So why did it feel like I was losing grip on everything?

The morning light filtered through the curtains as I slowly woke up, the familiar weight of the day ahead already pressing down on me. I didn't expect much. Just another day of business, of cold meetings and endless decisions. But as I made my way downstairs, I noticed something... different.

The house was still quiet, as it usually was at this time, but there was movement in the dining room. I entered to find Vera sitting at the breakfast table, surrounded by the maids. She was eating calmly, engaging in light conversation with them, and for the first time in a while, she looked... normal. Almost as if she hadn’t been completely lost in the emptiness the night before.

Her expression was neutral, but there was no trace of that robotic, distant vibe that had taken over her lately. She looked like Vera again. Like the woman I had married. The woman I had seen as strong and vibrant, before everything went wrong.

“Good morning,” she greeted me in her usual soft tone, not even a hint of coldness or reluctance in her voice.

I paused for a moment. The way she said it—calm, collected—wasn’t the way she had been acting the past few days. It was almost like nothing had changed.

I nodded curtly, not sure how to respond. "Morning," I muttered, before taking my seat at the table, my eyes studying her more carefully now. She wasn’t acting like she had been. The way she ate, the way she spoke—it was as if she had snapped back into some semblance of normalcy.

But something still felt off. It was almost too sudden.

She didn’t even look at me as she continued eating her breakfast, as though we were two strangers passing through the same room. And I couldn’t help but wonder... why the change?

I didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as the maids were clearing the table and she was already standing up, gathering her things.

“Are you going to the office today?” I asked, my voice low, more out of curiosity than anything else.

“Yes,” she replied, still not looking at me, her tone steady and neutral. “I’ll be working on some new designs.”

She didn’t say anything else. Just turned to leave, as though she was a woman with a purpose. And just like that, she was gone, walking out of the room with purpose and determination.

I sat there for a few moments, the questions swirling in my mind. Had she really gotten herself together so quickly? Or was this just another mask she was putting on to hide the cracks?

I pushed the thoughts aside and finished my breakfast, though I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.