Chapter 2 Shadows in the Manor

The first rays of morning light pierced through the heavy curtains of the De Laurent mansion, casting a golden glow on the marble floors. Lila stepped into the grand foyer, her heels clicking softly against the tiles. The house was already bustling with maids, some dusting the ornate furniture, others arranging fresh flowers in vases or preparing for the day’s meals.

“Good morning, Lady Lila,” one of the maids greeted as she passed, her voice polite but warm.

Lila managed a small smile in return, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She had barely slept. Her mind had been consumed by the cryptic note Damien left behind and the circulating photo of her birthmark. The question of how and why he had taken it without her noticing and lingered like a shadow.

She was about to head upstairs to her room when her father’s voice boomed from the drawing room.

“Lila!”

She paused mid-step, her stomach twisting. With a sigh, she turned and entered the room. Elias De Laurent was seated in his usual spot by the fireplace, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit despite the early hour. A maid was pouring his morning coffee as he fixed his sharp gaze on Lila.

“You’re late for breakfast,” he said coldly.

“I didn’t realize we had a family schedule,” Lila replied, keeping her tone deliberately light as she sat across from him.

Elias’s expression hardened, and he placed his coffee cup down with a soft clink. “This is no laughing matter. You’re a De Laurent, everything you do is scrutinized by the public. I don’t want to wake up to more tabloids dragging our name through the mud because of your reckless behavior.”

Lila tensed, the familiar weight of his disapproval settling on her shoulders. “I wasn’t aware my every move was your business,” she said, her voice sharper than intended.

Elias’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t test me, Lila. You’ve already earned a reputation as the youngest, most beautiful heiress after Clara. But instead of upholding that image, you’ve become notorious for getting into trouble and rejecting every suitor I’ve introduced.”

“And you think that’s a bad thing?” Lila shot back, her tone icy. “That I refuse to be auctioned off like Clara was?”

At that moment, Clara entered the room, her soft, elegant presence diffusing some of the tension. She was dressed in a pale blue gown that complemented her golden hair, her every move exuding grace.

“Papa, please,” Clara interjected, her voice calm but firm. “It’s too early for arguments.”

“Stay out of this, Clara,” Elias snapped, though not as harshly. “Your sister needs to learn that her actions have consequences.”

“Like marrying a duke to appease you?” Lila muttered under her breath.

Elias rose from his chair, his commanding presence towering over her. “You will not speak to me that way. As long as you live under my roof, you will conduct yourself with dignity. Is that clear?”

Lila’s jaw tightened, her hands clenched into fists. “Crystal.”

Elias stared at her for a moment longer before waving her off. “I have business to attend to. Make yourself presentable for lunch. We’ll have guests, and I won’t tolerate any more of your antics embarrassing this family.”

With that, he strode out of the room, leaving the air heavy with tension.

Clara sighed, taking the seat Elias had vacated. “Why do you provoke him?” she asked softly, pouring herself some tea from the silver pot on the table.

“Because someone has to,” Lila replied, slumping back in her chair.

Clara gave her a pointed look. “You’re not helping yourself, Lila. Papa may be strict, but he’s still our father. You know how much he values the family’s reputation.”

“Reputation,” Lila said bitterly. “That’s all he cares about. Not us, not our happiness. Just how we look to the world.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Clara’s voice was quiet but firm. “I didn’t marry the duke out of love, but at least I did what was expected of me. I brought peace to the family. You, on the other hand, seem determined to fight every step of the way.”

“Because I refuse to be like you,” Lila snapped, immediately regretting her words when she saw the hurt flash in Clara’s eyes.

“I didn’t have a choice, Lila,” Clara said softly. “But you still do. Don’t waste it.”

For a moment, silence hung between them, broken only by the distant hum of activity from the maids in the next room.

“I’m sorry,” Lila said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Clara smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just... try to stay out of trouble today, alright? For my sake.”

Lila nodded reluctantly, though deep down she knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

Later that morning, as the maids bustled about preparing for lunch, Lila retreated to the library—a quiet sanctuary away from her father’s watchful eyes. She sank into one of the leather armchairs, scrolling through her phone.

The photo of her birthmark was still circulating online, the reward for identifying her too high to ignore. She clenched her jaw, her mind swirling with anger and confusion.

Damien Vasilis.

She couldn’t shake the memory of his smirk, his smooth words, or the way he had managed to slip under her defenses. What was his game?

A sudden knock at the door startled her. One of the maids entered, her expression nervous.

“Lady Lila, there’s a package for you at the front door. It was left anonymously.”

Lila frowned, rising from her seat. “Did you see who delivered it?”

The maid shook her head. “No, miss. It was just there when I went to check the mail.”

Lila followed her to the entrance, where a small black box sat on the marble floor. The maid hovered nearby, clearly uneasy.

“Thank you,” Lila said, picking up the box. “You can go.”

Once alone, Lila examined the package carefully. There was no note, no indication of who had sent it. She hesitated for a moment before opening it.

Inside was a single object: a silver key.

Her pulse quickened as she turned it over in her hands. It looked old, the metal slightly tarnished, but there was no clue as to what it unlocked.

And then she saw it, a small piece of paper tucked into the lid of the box.

‘It’s only the beginning, kardia mou.’

Her breath caught. Damien. ‘How the hell did he know this address?’

Her grip on the key tightened as her mind raced. What was he trying to tell her? What did this key open?

The sound of the maids chattering in the distance barely registered as she stood frozen in place, the weight of the mystery pressing down on her.

One thing was certain: Damien Vasilis wasn’t done with her yet.