A night of shadow

The cool night air brushed against Ava's heated skin as she walked unsteadily down the corridor, her heels clicking softly against the polished marble floor. A faint dizziness clouded her mind, the effects of the alcohol making her limbs feel light yet heavy at the same time. She wasn't completely drunk, but she was tipsy enough that her senses dulled, leaving her vulnerable.

Her fingers brushed against her lips unconsciously. She could still feel the phantom heat of Damien's kiss, the way his lips had claimed hers with a mixture of possession and something else—something she couldn't quite define. It was a moment that shouldn't have happened, a crack in the wall between them that she hadn't expected.

Her heart thrummed unevenly in her chest, her breath hitching at the memory.

Damien had kissed her.

Not out of obligation. Not as part of their contract.

He had kissed her because he wanted to.

The realization sent another rush of warmth through her, making her steps falter slightly as she reached for the door handle of her bedroom. But before her fingers could curl around the cool brass—

A sharp, searing pain exploded at the back of her head.

The impact sent shockwaves through her skull, and for a brief, disorienting second, she didn't register what had happened. Her vision swam, the world tilting violently as her knees gave out beneath her.

The last thing she felt was the cold marble against her cheek as she crumpled to the ground.

Then—nothing.

---

A sharp scream pierced the silent corridors.

"Madam Ava!"

Mrs. Bella, the head housekeeper, gasped in horror as she caught sight of Ava lying motionless on the ground. The young woman's long hair fanned around her like a dark halo, her face pale, her body unnaturally still. Panic gripped the older woman as she hurried to Ava's side, her hands shaking as she lightly tapped her cheek.

"Ava? Wake up! Someone, help!"

Her frantic cries echoed through the estate, stirring the guards and sending a wave of urgency through the staff.

Kiara, who had been on her way to her own room, came running the moment she heard the alarmed shouts. Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs when she spotted Ava on the ground.

"What the hell happened?" Kiara dropped to her knees, pressing two fingers to Ava's neck. Her pulse was there—steady but weak. "Ava? Can you hear me?"

She gently shook her, but there was no response. Ava's body was limp in her arms, her lashes fluttering faintly, but she didn't wake.

"Damn it!" Kiara hissed under her breath.

Mrs. Bella, still trembling, turned to the nearest guards. "Find whoever did this! Now!"

The security team, already on high alert, fanned out immediately, their expressions grim. The mansion had state-of-the-art security—this shouldn't have happened.

The tension in the air was thick, the growing fear palpable.

Then—

A familiar, powerful presence stormed into the hallway.

The air seemed to shift, the very atmosphere growing heavy with restrained fury.

Damien.

His black suit contrasted against the pale glow of the corridor lights, his sharp, piercing gaze scanning the scene before locking onto Ava. His normally cold, unreadable face twisted into something dark, something lethal.

The moment he saw her on the ground, something inside him snapped.

"What the hell happened?" His voice was dangerously low, the edge in his tone sending a shiver down the spines of everyone present.

Mrs. Bella stammered. "S-Sir, I found her like this! I don't know what happened. She must have been attacked!"

Damien's jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. His eyes darkened, his body radiating an aura of barely contained rage.

"Find the bastard who did this," he ordered, his tone like ice. "I don't care what it takes. I want them in front of me."

The guards scattered without hesitation.

Without another word, Damien strode forward, his movements controlled but swift. He knelt down, slipping one arm beneath Ava's knees and the other around her back.

The moment he lifted her into his arms, a strange, unfamiliar emotion flickered across his face.

Ava felt… fragile.

Too fragile.

His grip tightened protectively as he turned on his heel. "Get my personal doctor. Now."

He didn't look back.

---

The master bedroom was dimly lit, the glow from the bedside lamp casting warm shadows across the room. The bed was untouched, the sheets pristine, until Damien carefully laid Ava down.

She barely stirred.

Her lashes trembled slightly, her breathing slow and even, but she remained unconscious.

Damien stood at the foot of the bed, his gaze never leaving her face.

Ava looked small against the vastness of the bed, her dark waves spilling over the pillows. A faint bruise was already forming at the back of her head. The sight made something tighten in his chest, an unrecognizable feeling creeping into his bloodstream.

Within minutes, his personal doctor arrived, an older man with a calm, practiced demeanor. He moved quickly, checking Ava's pulse, inspecting the bruise, and carefully examining her condition.

"She's unconscious from the impact," the doctor finally said, adjusting his glasses. "Luckily, there's no sign of a concussion. She just needs rest."

Damien gave a sharp nod. "You're dismissed."

The doctor packed his kit and left.

Kiara, who had been watching anxiously from the side, exhaled in relief. "She's going to be okay…" she murmured.

Then she turned to Damien, arms crossed. "I'm staying with her."

Damien barely glanced at her. "No, you're not."

Kiara stiffened. "Excuse me?"

Damien's eyes flashed dangerously. "She's safer here than anywhere else in this mansion."

Kiara scoffed. "Oh, really? You expect me to trust you with her? In your room, while she's unconscious?"

Damien exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Kiara, she was attacked. She's my wife. Whether you trust me or not is irrelevant."

Kiara hesitated, torn between her frustration and the undeniable truth in his words.

"Fine," she finally muttered. "But if you so much as—"

"Go to sleep, Kiara," Damien cut her off.

Kiara shot him a glare but eventually left.

As the door clicked shut, silence settled over the room.

Damien turned back to Ava, his gaze unreadable. He sat at the edge of the bed, watching her. Slowly, without thinking, he reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair from her face.

His fingers lingered for a second too long.

Ava shifted slightly in her sleep, her breath hitching.

Damien's jaw tightened.

Whoever had dared to harm his wife…

They were going to regret it.