A STRANGER IN THE DARK

Althea’s POV

It started with the lights.

A flicker.

Then complete darkness.

I had just stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, when the power cut out across the entire mansion. No thunder. No warning. Just black.

I reached for my phone. Dead. I could’ve sworn I charged it.

My heartbeat quickened as I stumbled through the room, my fingers brushing against the wall in search of the door.

Then—I heard it.

A floorboard creaked outside.

Someone was there.

"Damian?" I called, my voice trembling slightly.

No answer.

I opened the door a crack. The hallway was pitch black. And quiet. Too quiet.

I took a step forward… then another… and then—

A hand grabbed my arm.

I screamed.

A second later, a flashlight turned on—bright and blinding.

“It’s me,” Damian said, holding the light to his chest, his other hand still gripping my arm tightly. “Don’t scream like that again. You’ll wake the entire staff.”

I yanked myself free. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“You shouldn’t be walking around half-naked during a blackout,” he snapped, eyes darting to my towel before quickly looking away.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “You’re unbelievable.”

He didn’t respond.

Just turned and began walking down the hall.

“Wait—what’s going on?” I asked. “Is this normal for your perfect mansion? Lights going out in the middle of the night?”

“No. Which is why I’m checking the security system.”

That was when I noticed it—he looked…tense.

And Damian never looked tense.

We reached the control room at the far end of the hall. He unlocked the keypad and we stepped inside.

The monitors were dark.

Completely wiped.

“Someone shut it down manually,” he muttered.

My stomach dropped.

“You think someone broke in?”

He didn’t answer right away.

But then, he turned to me slowly and said, “I think someone wants you afraid.”

---

Damian’s POV

She wasn’t just a pawn anymore.

She was bait.

And someone knew it.

I replayed the message from earlier in my head. “She fits beside you better than your last one.”

It wasn’t a joke. It was a threat. And this blackout—it wasn’t random. It was deliberate. Someone wanted her vulnerable. Scared.

It was working.

She stood in the corner of the room, arms wrapped tightly around herself, eyes scanning the shadows like they could swallow her whole.

“What happened to your last one?” she asked suddenly, her voice quiet.

I turned toward her.

“You said ‘your last one’… your last what?”

I hesitated. For a heartbeat, I almost told her.

Almost.

Instead, I said, “You don’t want to know.”

She stepped closer. “Why did you marry me, Damian? Really?”

My jaw tightened. “We already made a deal.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Silence.

We stood there in the dark, the air between us heavy with unsaid truths.

“I married you…” I began, voice low, “…to keep you alive.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“Someone wants you gone, Althea. And I’m the only person who can protect you right now.”

She shook her head, backing away. “You’re lying.”

“You know I’m not.”

That was when the monitors flickered—static.

And for one brief moment, a face appeared on the screen.

Hooded. Unrecognizable.

But the voice that echoed through the speaker was chillingly clear.

> “You chose the wrong husband, Althea.”

Then the screen went black again.

And everything inside me snapped into survival mode.

---

Althea’s POV

The room felt colder.

Not just from fear.

But from the realization that I was now part of something far more dangerous than a fake marriage.

I wasn’t just his wife on paper anymore.

I was a target.

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