WHISPERS IN THE DARK

The city pulsed with life outside the penthouse, but inside, the air felt thick with unspoken words. Rain lashed against the towering glass windows, the distant hum of thunder vibrating through the walls. Evelyn stood by the fireplace, arms crossed, trying to steady the storm within her that rivaled the one outside.

Adrian had left early that morning without a word, and now, as the clock ticked past eight, she still hadn't heard from him. Not that she expected to.

She should have been used to this silence by now. The absence. The coldness. The aching realization that she was simply another person in his life, not someone who mattered, not someone who he turned to when things felt too heavy. It didn't matter how many nights they'd spent in this penthouse, how many shared moments felt real. It always came back to this—her alone.

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. She frowned. The doorman usually called before sending anything up.

Curious, she walked over and opened the door. A staff member handed her a sleek black envelope with a golden seal. "For Mr. Adrian Carter," he said. "It was marked urgent."

Evelyn accepted it hesitantly, murmuring a polite thanks before shutting the door. She turned the envelope over in her hands. There was no return address, only Adrian's name in elegant cursive.

Something about it felt… off.

She moved to the kitchen, her fingers carefully breaking the wax seal. Inside was a thick ivory invitation card embossed in gold.

The Annual Sterling Foundation Charity Gala

Hosted by The Sterling Family

Her breath hitched. Isabella Sterling.

Of course.

Evelyn clenched her jaw, barely suppressing a bitter laugh. This was no coincidence.

Isabella wanted her to see this.

The gala was in exactly one week—an exclusive event attended by the city's elite. The last time Evelyn had been at such a gathering, she had stood by Adrian's side, playing the role of his perfectly poised wife while Isabella floated around the room like she belonged there more than Evelyn ever did.

Evelyn traced a finger over the invitation, debating whether to toss it away.

But then, something caught her eye.

On the back of the card, written in the same elegant script, was a message.

"You were never supposed to be his wife."

The words sent a sharp chill down her spine.

Her fingers tightened around the card, her heart hammering.

What the hell did that mean?

Who wrote it?

Her mind immediately went to Isabella. This was exactly her style—subtle, cutting, a perfectly placed knife to the ribs.

But something about it… felt deeper.

Evelyn swallowed hard, reading the words again and again, as if the ink itself held answers.

She suddenly felt lightheaded, her grip on the invitation unsteady.

She had spent years trying to understand why Adrian had married her—why their relationship had felt like a cage rather than a choice. She had convinced herself it was about power, about obligation.

But this note suggested something else entirely.

Something she wasn't supposed to know.

A door clicked open behind her. Evelyn's head snapped up, pulse still erratic.

Adrian.

He stepped inside, drenched from the rain, his black coat dripping onto the floor as he loosened his tie. He barely spared her a glance before setting his keys down on the counter.

He didn't notice the invitation in her hands.

For a moment, she just watched him, her thoughts racing.

Did he know?

Was he hiding something from her?

Adrian turned, finally meeting her gaze, his expression unreadable. "What's wrong?"

Evelyn hesitated, her grip tightening on the invitation.

She could ask him. She could demand answers.

But something in her told her not yet.

Instead, she took a slow breath and forced a smile. "Nothing. Just a long day."

Adrian studied her for a second longer before nodding. "I'll be in my office."

And just like that, he disappeared down the hall, just as distant as ever.

Evelyn stared at the card in her hands, its weight heavier than it should be.

One week.

That's all the time she had to figure out what the hell was really going on.

She wasn't going to be played again.

No matter what it took.

But as the minutes ticked by, Evelyn's thoughts were tangled. This wasn't just about the note. She had been questioning the foundation of her marriage to Adrian for so long, and this invitation—this cryptic message—felt like a direct warning.

If she was going to find out the truth, she had to go in with open eyes. She had to stop being afraid of confronting the reality of what had always been there, hidden in the shadows.

As she stared at the invitation, she couldn't shake the feeling that this gala would change everything. The night everything would come to light.

But the question lingered—what was Isabella's real game?

And why, after all this time, was she still so intent on making Evelyn's life a battlefield?

Evelyn had the invitation. Isabella had made sure of that. And now, Evelyn had one week to prepare for the storm that was coming, knowing it would destroy the little sense of peace she had left.

And when the night of the gala arrived, she would be there. Ready.

But what she would find? That she didn't know yet.