Veil of Secrets

The gilded doors of the estate slammed shut behind Liana as she stepped into the mansion she was now forced to call home. Despite the lavish marble floors and towering chandeliers, a coldness lingered in the air—one that had nothing to do with temperature.

She glanced behind her once more. Cassian was already walking away, his broad shoulders stiff, his tailored black suit blending into the shadows as if he belonged to them.

“I won’t let you win,” she whispered under her breath.

But what was winning now?

Was it revenge?

Escape?

Or the terrifying possibility that a part of her heart might betray her with warmth?

---

The Cage in Silk

Liana’s new bedroom was larger than her old apartment, with velvet drapes and antique furniture. A king-sized bed stood like a throne in the middle, the crimson silk sheets almost mocking her. There were no bars, but she still felt imprisoned.

She walked to the mirror. Her brown hair framed her face in soft waves, her blue eyes reflecting a storm of emotions. This wasn’t the face of the girl who had died in fire. This was someone new.

Reborn.

Deadly.

And unsure.

A knock on the door startled her. She turned quickly as it opened.

It wasn’t a servant.

It was him.

Cassian.

He stood in the doorway with the arrogance of a king, holding a wine glass and wearing a half-unbuttoned shirt that revealed the edge of a tattoo on his collarbone.

“You’re sulking,” he said.

“I’m strategizing,” she shot back.

He smirked and stepped inside. “This marriage wasn’t my idea either, princess. But we’ll both survive if you stop glaring at me like I personally murdered your puppy.”

“You’ve done worse.”

His smirk vanished. “Have I now?”

She crossed her arms. “You think I don’t know who you are? I’ve heard what your men do. You’re a walking crime empire.”

Cassian raised a brow, sipping his wine. “And yet, you’re married to me. What does that make you?”

Liana's nails dug into her palm. She wanted to spit the truth in his face—wanted to scream that she remembered him from her past life. That she knew what he did. That he’d stood silently as her family burned.

But she couldn’t reveal that.

Not yet.

---

A Past That Claws Back

That night, sleep evaded her. Liana sat by the window, watching the moonlight dance across the rooftops. In her mind, she walked through memories—some distant, some too fresh. Her father’s laughter. The flames that devoured her home. The scream that never left her throat.

And him.

Cassian.

In the shadows. Watching. Unmoved.

But something didn’t add up.

In this life, Cassian didn’t seem like a man who burned homes for fun. He was cruel, yes. Dangerous. But methodical. Calculated. There were layers beneath his cool exterior—ones she didn’t yet understand.

She needed information.

And information was power.

---

The Visit

The next morning, Liana demanded something rare: an outing.

Cassian raised an eyebrow over his espresso. “You want to go shopping?”

“Yes,” she said with the sweet venom of a viper. “Unless you prefer your wife looking like she crawled out of a battlefield.”

He chuckled and motioned to his right-hand man, Viktor. “Keep an eye on her. Don’t let her wander.”

Viktor, a silent mountain of a man, nodded.

---

The Trap

Liana’s plan wasn’t to shop. It was to bait.

In the luxury boutique on 5th Avenue, she wandered off while Viktor spoke with a clerk. Slipping into the back alley, she took out the burner phone she’d hidden in her boot. She had found it in one of Cassian’s abandoned offices the day before.

She dialed a number she never thought she’d use again.

“Ash?”

There was silence on the line, and then: “Liana?”

“It’s me. I’m alive.”

A gasp. “They told me you were dead!”

“Listen to me,” she said quickly. “I need help. Cassian—he’s not what he seems. I think he’s hiding something. I need proof.”

“Where are you?”

“In his estate. I’ll send coordinates. Just… be careful. If he suspects anything…”

“I’m coming,” Ash promised.

Liana hung up and returned just in time for Viktor to notice her “trying on shoes.” She smiled innocently. He didn’t.

---

The Dance of Wolves

That evening, a formal dinner was held for Cassian’s “business partners.” The entire house transformed into a palace of power plays and veiled threats.

Liana wore a backless black gown with crimson heels. Every step was a calculated act. She smiled, laughed, and whispered false sweetness into the ears of the wolves in tuxedos.

Cassian watched her from across the room, his eyes sharp, unreadable.

When he finally approached, he didn’t say hello. He only leaned close and whispered, “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“So are you,” she replied.

He took her hand and led her to the dance floor, wrapping one arm around her waist with the grace of a panther. “Tell me,” he said as they swayed, “what do you think you’ll find in my shadows?”

“The truth.”

“And if it kills you?”

She looked up at him, defiantly. “I already died once.”

Cassian’s eyes flickered—something raw, something haunted. But it disappeared just as fast.

---

Unveiling the Mask

Later that night, Cassian stood alone on the balcony, staring at the stars. Liana joined him, a glass of wine in hand.

“Why do you look so sad, husband?” she asked mockingly.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he said, “My mother died when I was twelve. My father beat me every day after. The only way I survived was by becoming colder than he was.”

Liana blinked. It wasn’t what she expected.

He continued, “I built my empire out of necessity. To protect what was left. But every empire is built on graves.”

“Is that your excuse?” she asked softly.

He turned to her. “No. It’s my confession.”

---

The Shattered Frame

The next day, Liana received a message from Ash.

“Meet me at midnight. East garden. I found something.”

She didn’t hesitate.

Wrapped in her cloak, she slipped out of the mansion into the foggy garden. The statues loomed like ghosts. Ash emerged from the shadows, holding a folder.

“Cassian’s father was involved in your family’s massacre,” he said. “But Cassian wasn’t. In fact… I think he tried to stop it.”

Liana’s breath caught. “What?”

Ash handed her photos—documents, timelines. All showing a younger Cassian trying to intercept the hit. But he was too late. His father had already sent the orders.

“He’s not your enemy, Liana.”

She stood frozen, her entire reality cracking.

A click echoed.

Liana turned.

Cassian stood at the edge of the garden.

Holding a gun.

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