CHAPTER 4: Harrison's Visit

Leya sat alone in her room, the soft light from the lamp casting enough glow to chase away the shadows that seemed to cling to the walls. The air was thick and suffocating as if the mansion itself were alive, pressing down on her from all sides. She sat down leaning against the headboard, her fingers straying aimlessly across the embroidered patterns of the bedspread while her mind fell back to recollections of the time past.

The nights had become her only solace, those scant times when she could be left to her thoughts alone, away from the freezing stare of Harrison, the chain of belittling remarks from Vivian, and the constant prying eyes of Eleanor. It was in this quiet that she remembered what it had been like to be herself, before marriage, before the death of her father, before the walls of this mansion closed in on her as though in a prison.

And as it was the case, her thoughts took her back to her father's study. She could almost envision him now, sitting behind the desk, his smiling countenance making all things safe and secure. For her, he had always been bigger than life, an influence of strength and character. She could almost hear his voice now, the deep rumble of it as he spoke of the future, of her dreams of being an artist and a writer, the life he was building for them.

But that future had died with him.

His death had been the first fissure in her life's foundation, the first inkling that all she knew was fragile, temporary. Then came debts, bankruptcy, and along with it, that relentless pressure which pushed her mother into a quiet desperation. Even today, Leya could hear those frantic whispers late in the night, the sound of her mother's voice on the phone, pleading for more time with creditors.

And then… Samuel Blackwood had arrived. He'd walked into their lives to save the day, but Leya now knew the cost had come in much too high. He hadn't saved them, he'd only imprisoned her in a prison of another kind. One made of cold smiles and cruel intentions.

Her gaze drifted to the door of her room, its thick wood a barrier between herself and the rest of the house. Somewhere beyond it, Harrison moved through the mansion, a storm waiting to break. She knew all the signs only too well: the tightening of his jaw, the sharpness in his voice whenever he spoke to her, the resentment that seemed to burn in his eyes every time they held hers.

He hated her. She knew that now. But it wasn't just hatred, it was something deeper, something more dangerous. It was as if her presence in his life had lighted a fuse, one that was smoldering its way toward an explosion.

Leya exhaled a heavy, mournful sigh and slid down into her bed as the weight of it weighed heavily upon her. She had agreed to this marriage to protect her family, but she could only imagine at what cost: the coldness in Harrison's eyes, the way he spoke to her as if she was nothing but an inconvenience, was that the life she gave up her dreams for?

She thought about her siblings, their faces floating in her mind, reminding her why she was doing this to protect them and give them a future. Yet, in this cold and sterilized mansion, she wondered if she had just made the biggest mistake. How much longer could she bear it? How much longer could she continue pretending this life, this marriage, was anything but a cage she'd willingly walked into?

The knot in her chest twisted, like it always did every night as the hours ticked closer to midnight. But that's not quite all it was. It was Fear too. Fear of what would happen if she ever let her defenses down, if she ever let herself trust anyone in this house. The Blackwoods weren't a family one could trust. That much she had learned.

In the darkened study on the far side of the mansion, Harrison sat behind his desk, his fingers tapping in slow beats upon the gleaming wood. The room was still; save for the soft crackling of the fire in his hearth, the silence was unbroken. His mind and thoughts were quite another story altogether.

He had never wanted this marriage.

The thought crackled through his mind for what must have been the hundredth time riding on the back of another wave of fury. Samuel had done this to him, chiseled him into a marble statue of control just as he had done so many times during his life. And now he was trapped. Trapped in this sham of a marriage with a woman he barely knew and certainly didn't trust.

Leya.

Her name spoken rankled down his spine. She wasn't what he expected. Not that meek, timid woman he thought she would be. No, there was something to her something which made him uneasy. Too collected, too poised, too strong, irritating him in the manner in which she held herself regarding everything as though his coldness did nothing to her.

But it did. He could see it in the way she flinched ever so slightly when he spoke to her in that acerbic tone. He could see it in the way her eyes flickered with hurt before she quickly masked it. And for those same reasons, he wasn't quite sure of, that just served to make him angrier.

"She thinks she is better than this," he growled, his fingers curling into fists on the desk.

But she wasn't. Leya Anderson was just one more piece of his father's game, and he was not about to let her act above it. He would make her pay for agreeing to such a marriage to be in on this scheme. And she would learn he wasn't a man with which to trifle.

He leaned back in his chair, letting his eyes settle on the fire that danced in the hearth. His mind went dark as memories he had thought long buried rose once again to the surface like a visitation from his ghosts of the past: of betrayal, of lies, of the tearing of his life asunder before. It would not happen again.

His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed as he thought of Leya. She was a menace. Not in the bald sense, perhaps, but there was something about her that unsettled him. He didn't trust her. And he wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

"I will not let what happened before… happen now."

The words hung in the air, thick with unspoken meaning. Unspoken aloud, reverberating in his head, a promise to himself. A warning.

Whatever games Leya thought she was playing, whatever plan his father had set in motion, Harrison was determined to come out on top. He had once been blindsided by someone he thought he could trust. But not this time.

This time, he was ready

Back in Leya's Room

Leya wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders, a shiver running through her despite the warmth of the room. She couldn't shake this feeling that came over her like something was coming, some darkness she was not prepared for.

She had seen the way Harrison had looked at her tonight, the anger bubbling away just below the surface. She could feel the tension rising between them, like a growing thickness in the air. And though he'd said little to her of late, she knew it was resentment, his frustration, cold determination to make her life a misery.

She didn't know why; she didn't understand what had happened to him, to make him this way older, bitter, cruel. But one thing was for sure: whatever storm was coming, she had to be ready.

And as she closed her eyes, trying to push thoughts away, a thought couldn't help but seep into her mind … how much longer until it unraveled?

A low, menacing growl seeped through silent corridors and exploded in Leya's sleeping chamber. Leya's eyes snapped open; her heart jumped to her throat. The sound was soft, yet unmistakable, the slow, deliberate tread of someone outside her door.

Her breath caught as she sat up in bed, the darkness of the room suddenly claustrophobic, the air heavy with an unvoiced threat.

Was it Harrison?

Or was it something worse?

The footsteps came closer, heavier, more intentional, more measured. Then they stopped right outside her door.