The Walls Close in

Chapter 7: The Walls Close In

Isla stood in the center of her bedroom, the silence of the mansion pressing against her like a heavy weight. Damien's words still echoed in her mind.

"You're mine now."

The possessiveness in his voice should have terrified her—but it didn't. What scared her was how much those words stirred something deep inside her. Something she didn't want to name.

Shaking off the feeling, she turned toward the window, watching Julian's car disappear beyond the estate gates. He had come here to save her—but how could he protect her from something neither of them fully understood?

A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

"Come in," she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

The door opened, and Damien stepped inside, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever. But beneath that, something darker simmered—a tension he wasn't bothering to hide.

"You shouldn't have let him come here," Damien said, his voice quiet but firm.

Isla met his gaze, refusing to back down. "He deserves answers, Damien. You don't get to decide who I speak to."

His jaw tightened. "Julian isn't just an old lover. He's a threat."

"A threat to who?" she challenged. "You or Victoria?"

His eyes flashed. "Both."

Isla let out a bitter laugh. "Maybe if you told me the truth, I wouldn't need to ask anyone else for answers."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension between them hung thick in the air, pulling tighter with each passing second. Finally, Damien took a step closer, his voice low and dangerous.

"You want the truth?" he said. "Fine. But be careful what you wish for."

The next morning, Isla woke to a cold, empty house. The sunlight filtering through the windows did nothing to warm the chill in her bones. Damien had left early—where, she didn't know. And part of her wasn't sure she wanted to find out.

Pushing the blankets aside, she made her way to the kitchen. A fresh cup of coffee sat waiting on the counter, along with a folded note written in Damien's neat, controlled handwriting.

Stay inside. I'll be back by noon. – D

Isla sighed. Of course, he didn't ask. He commanded.

But she wasn't the kind of woman who followed orders blindly. If Damien wanted to keep secrets, she would find her own answers.

Her thoughts drifted to the hidden study where Damien kept his files on Victoria. Maybe, just maybe, the truth was waiting there.

Isla moved quietly through the east wing, her footsteps light against the polished floors. When she reached the study, she glanced down both ends of the hallway. No one was there.

She turned the handle and slipped inside.

The room was just as she remembered—dark wood, shelves lined with books, and the wall of files Damien had gathered over the years. Isla's heart pounded as she crossed to the cabinet, pulling open one of the drawers.

Her fingers skimmed over the labels until she found the one she wanted. Victoria Hale.

She pulled the folder free and opened it on the desk. Photographs, documents, and letters spilled out, painting a picture of a woman who would stop at nothing to get what she wanted.

One photo caught her eye—a younger Victoria, standing beside a man with dark hair and a familiar jawline. Her stomach twisted.

Damien's father.

Flipping through the papers, she found something even stranger—a marriage license. But not for Victoria and Damien's father.

It was a marriage certificate with Victoria Hale's name on it—and another name she didn't recognize. Elias Bennett.

Her blood ran cold. Bennett.

Her last name.

"What the hell is this?" she whispered to herself.

Before she could process what it meant, the door creaked open behind her.

"I wondered how long it would take before you started digging."

Isla froze. She knew that voice. Smooth, calm, and laced with danger.

Cassian Wolfe.

She turned slowly, her heart slamming against her ribs. Cassian stood in the doorway, one hand casually tucked into his pocket, the other tracing the edge of a silver watch.

"How did you get in here?" Isla demanded, trying to keep her voice steady.

Cassian smiled faintly, his expression too calm. "Let's just say… not everyone in this house is loyal to Damien."

Her stomach twisted. An informant. Someone within the estate had let him in.

"You're lying," she said, though her voice shook slightly.

"Am I?" Cassian tilted his head. "Ask Damien how well he really knows the people around him. Money talks, Isla. And I pay very well."

Isla's mind raced. Who could it be? One of the staff? Someone close to Damien?

"You broke into Damien's house," she said quietly. "Why?"

"To warn you," he answered, stepping further inside. "You think Damien is the one protecting you—but what if he's the real danger?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Why would I believe you?"

He chuckled softly. "I don't care if you believe me. But ask yourself—why is he keeping secrets? And why hasn't he told you the truth about Victoria?"

Her mind flashed back to the marriage certificate. Why hadn't Damien told her his stepmother was connected to her family?

"What do you want?" she demanded.

Cassian took another slow step forward. "To watch Damien fall apart. And you, darling, are the key to making that happen."

Before she could respond, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. Damien.

Cassian smirked. "Think about what I said."

And with that, he slipped back through the door, leaving Isla alone with a thousand questions.

By the time Damien stormed through the front door, Isla was waiting. The folder was still in her hands, the marriage certificate sitting on top.

"You lied to me," she said, lifting the paper. "You knew Victoria was connected to my family. Why didn't you tell me?"

Damien's face darkened as he shut the door behind him. "Where did you find that?"

"Does it matter?" Her voice trembled with frustration. "How long were you planning to keep this from me?"

He crossed the room in three long strides, grabbing the paper from her hand. "I wasn't protecting Victoria. I was protecting you."

"From what?" she demanded.

His eyes burned into hers. "From the truth. If Victoria married someone from your family, that means this goes deeper than either of us thought. And the more you know, the more dangerous it becomes."

Isla shook her head, anger rising in her chest. "I deserve the truth, Damien. I'm not some fragile thing you need to protect."

His hand moved to her wrist, his grip firm but not cruel. "You think this is a game?" His voice was rough, raw. "Victoria will destroy anyone who stands in her way. And now, she knows you're standing in mine."

The air between them crackled with tension. For all his coldness, there was something fierce beneath the surface—something real.

And in that moment, Isla realized the truth.

She wasn't just part of the game.

She was the prize.

And she wasn't about to lose.