Chapter 15

Damien opened the heavy oak door to find Aron standing on the porch, drenched by the relentless rain. “It’s raining. We didn’t hear anything from inside,” Damien thought. The light from the hallway cast a golden glow on Aron’s soaked form, making his worried expression all the more evident. Damien’s sharp eyes immediately recognized him. It was the same man from the café, the one Elara had grown inexplicably close to.

“Yes, she does live here,” Damien said after a moment’s pause, his voice steady but tinged with reluctance. He sighed deeply, his jaw tightening. “Why are you looking for her?”

“I heard she sprained her leg, so I came to visit her,” Aron replied, his concern apparent in the tremor of his tone. The genuine care in Aron’s voice sent a pang of irritation through Damien, though he suppressed it. As much as he disliked this uninvited intrusion, he couldn’t dismiss Aron outright. Elara valued this man’s friendship, and Damien wouldn’t risk hurting her by being unkind to him.

“She’s inside. Come in,” Damien said finally, his words clipped but polite. He stepped aside reluctantly, his body language betraying his discontent.

“Thanks,” Aron said with a brief smile, stepping into the mansion’s grand foyer. The two men walked toward the living room, the silence between them as thick as the storm outside.

When they entered, Elara was perched nervously on the couch, absently fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Her head snapped up at the sound of footsteps, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw Aron rushing toward her.

“Elara!” Aron’s voice echoed through the room as he closed the distance between them. “What are you doing here?” she stammered, standing abruptly despite the bandage on her leg.

“Be careful. Why are you standing? Just sit down,” Aron said, his voice filled with concern as he reached out to steady her. The casual intimacy of his gesture made Damien’s fists clench involuntarily.

Aron set his bag on the couch and placed a small plastic bag on the table. “How did you get injured?” he asked, his gaze lingering on her bandaged leg.

“Oh, it’s nothing serious,” Elara replied dismissively. “I just slipped in the bathroom. Don’t worry about it.”

“YOU’RE SAYING AS IF SPRAINING YOUR LEG WAS NOTHING,” both Damien and Aron said in unison, their voices overlapping in an unintentional harmony that made Elara chuckle despite herself.

“Don’t worry, guys. I’m perfectly fine,” she said, a touch of pride in her tone. “Damien took great care of me.” A small blush crept onto her cheeks as she glanced at Damien, who averted her gaze, clearing his throat.

“That’s nice to hear,” Aron said, his smile faltering slightly. “But who is Damien?”

“Oh!” Elara exclaimed, realizing she hadn’t introduced them. “Aron, this is Damien, the owner of this mansion. Damien, this is Aron, my friend from the café.”

“Oh, the owner! Well, nice to meet you,” Aron said, extending his hand. Damien hesitated for a fraction of a second before accepting the handshake. Their grips tightened simultaneously, an unspoken challenge passing between them.

“Uh… that’s enough of a handshake,” Elara said nervously, scratching her cheek as she noticed the tension building.

“Elara, I brought some cake for you. Give it a try,” Aron said, reaching for the plastic bag on the table.

“Aron, you didn’t have to,” Elara said, her voice soft with gratitude.

“Oh, come on. Just taste it,” Aron insisted, his enthusiasm evident.

Elara took a small bite, and her eyes lit up with delight. Aron’s smile widened, but his expression shifted as he looked around the room. “Did I interrupt something?” he asked, noting the flowers, popcorn, and champagne scattered across the living room.

Damien’s voice was cold and unwavering. “Yeah, we were having a small movie date, you see. So, yes. You certainly interrupted us.”

“Date?” Aron’s brow furrowed as he glanced between Damien and Elara.

“Date??” Elara thought, her cheeks flaming. “Uh…" Yeah, we were just watching a movie,” she said, quickly offering Aron a drink to diffuse the tension.

The room was filled with light conversation as Aron and Elara caught up. Damien, however, kept glancing at the clock. His unease kept on growing. When the clock struck six, Damien spoke up. “Elara, it’s time for you to get some rest.”

“Yes,” she agreed, turning to Aron. “How about you go home now? It’s getting late.”

Aron frowned. “What? So early? It’s barely been ten minutes. And it’s raining heavily outside.”

“She needs to rest.” Damien interjected sternly.

Ignoring Damien, Aron turned back to Elara. “Come on, Elara. Can I stay a bit longer, please?”

Elara hesitated. “But…”

“Please?” Aron insisted, his eyes pleading.

“Okay, but only a couple more minutes,” she relented, unable to refuse.

Damien’s frustration was palpable, but he said nothing. His restlessness only grew as the clock inched toward seven. “Hey, can I use the bathroom?” Aron asked.

“Yes, of course. Go up the stairs and use the first..” Elara said.

“Second room. Use the second room.” Damien interrupted his voice firm. He couldn’t risk Aron entering Elara’s room and stumbling into anything unusual.

As soon as Aron disappeared up the stairs, Damien turned to Elara, his voice low and urgent. “There’s only twenty minutes left, and your friend seems to have forgotten his way home.”

Elara chuckled at his irritation. “I think it might be better if he stays. Shadow wouldn’t act recklessly in front of someone else. Aron might actually help us tonight.”

Damien shook his head, his concern evident. “What if it hurts both of you? We can’t take that risk, Elara.”

She placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “I can’t keep ignoring you as Shadow forever. It’ll only make things more suspicious. Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out together.”

When Aron returned, Damien excused himself, retreating to his room. He couldn’t allow either of them to witness what was coming. As Elara invited Aron to stay for dinner, the rain outside turned into a torrential downpour, thunder rumbling ominously.

The clock struck seven. Elara’s gaze darted toward the timepiece, her heart pounding in anticipation. Somewhere in the shadows of the mansion, a dark presence stirred, waiting to make itself known.

What was going to unfold that night remained a mystery, but one thing was certain: the storm outside was nothing compared to the tempest brewing within. The air grew heavier, the room colder, as the mansion seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the inevitable chaos to come.

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