Chapter 6

A Glimpse of Vulnerability

Nighttime always made the place feel different. Every creak in the floorboards seemed to be hiding something, the air became thicker, and the shadows lengthened. With the odd tone from the study still replaying in my head, I was unable to fall asleep again. Things are not always as they seem. Those words buried themselves deep within me, gnawing at me like an unremovable splinter.

The cold stone floor soaked through my slippers as I walked the corridors in my silk robe. The house's grandeur transformed into something nearly menacing in the darkness, transforming it into a maze. Halfway to the library, I became aware of a dim illumination emanating from Jack's study, one of the rooms along the corridor.

I was overcome by curiosity. With a thumping heart, I edged closer. Just enough of the door was open for me to have a glimpse. There was Jack, perched on his desk's edge. But he wasn't working. In his palm was a tumbler of amber liquor, and his neck was loosely tied with a tie. A picture was in his other hand.

His eyes hovered over the photo, and I froze. His normally angular, icy features were softer, the lines of his face engraved with the weight of whatever it was he was feeling. It was almost heartbreaking how human he seemed. I had never seen that side of him before, and I was unable to turn away.

However, his gaze shifted upward and met mine. The cold mask I had become accustomed to quickly replaced the discomfort. Setting the photograph down as if it had burnt him, he straightened.

"Can’t sleep?" Sharp and exact, his voice pierced the quiet.

As I entered the room, my heart was pounding. "I was not trying to interrupt. The light immediately came to me.

He looked at me with that calculating look as he tilted his head. "And you thought you’d spy on me instead?"

"No," I hurriedly said. "I just..." Afraid to continue the phrase, I pointed to the desk. The image of a mother and a boy grinning at the camera drew my attention. It was obvious that the youngster resembled Jack when he was younger.

"Who are they?" I was unable to stop the question from slipping out.

Jack clenched his teeth and moved to block my view of the picture. "None of your concern."

His tone was cold, which hurt, but it made me even more irritated. "Hey, Jack, I live here now. Stop excluding me, at the very least, if we're going to act like husband and wife.

He hastily buried the spark of something in his eyes, perhaps sorrow or wrath. "Amelia, this marriage isn't real. Our arrangement is not to be confused with anything else.

"I am not the one who is confused," I retorted. "You are the one concealed behind locked doors and mysterious letters. Isn't everything as it appears? What does that signify, Jack?

I thought for a second that he might tell me, but then his face clouded. He moved passed me, however, and made his way to the door. "Go back to bed."

"Jack—"

He turned away from me and paused in the doorway. "Amelia, stay away from things you don't comprehend. That's a safer option.

He then left, leaving me in the study by myself with more questions than answers.

I couldn't stop it. Jack was out of the home the following day, so I returned to the study. There it was, hidden under a pile of papers, the snapshot. I took it out and looked at the picture more intently. The picture seemed to be brightened by the woman's pleasant smile and black hair. Standing next to her, the youngster wrapped his arm around her waist and gazed at the camera with a mixture of pride and naivete.

The image felt a little... strange. As if it had been handled too often, the photo's edges were frayed and the backdrop was blurry, as if it had been altered. In an attempt to find a clue, I turned it over and noticed a faint inscription on the back: Together forever.

I turned the picture over again and scowled. They were who? And why did Jack keep this photo a secret that he was unable to reveal?

Something else caught my attention when I put the picture down again: a folder hidden inside an open drawer. I paused, my heart pounding. Even though Jack's warning kept repeating in my head, I was powerless to resist. When I opened the folder after taking it out, I saw a pile of papers. Legal documents, birth certificates, and even an old newspaper clipping.

I was shivering when I saw the headline: Sterling Heir Involved in Scandalous Disappearance

Before I could continue reading, I froze as I heard footsteps in the corridor. My pulse thumping, I rushed to shoo the folder back into the drawer. No sooner had I straightened than the study door flew open, and Jack was standing there, his face huge.

"What are you doing?" He had a low, menacing voice.

"Nothing," I blurted out, attempting to control my breathing. "I was just—"

"Don’t lie to me, Amelia." With an intimidating presence, he took a step closer. "I warned you to stay out of things you don’t understand."

With a trembling voice, I shot back, "Perhaps I wouldn't have to if you didn't keep so many secrets." "Jack, what's causing your fear? That perhaps I will discover your true identity?"

I briefly believed he may blow up when his eyes narrowed. However, he suddenly did something unexpected: he laughed. However, the chuckle was not sincere or affectionate. I couldn't exactly pinpoint it, but it was bitter and chilly.

He said, "You have no idea what you’re playing with," in a foreboding tone. "But if you’re so determined to dig, don’t come crying to me when you are disappointed in what you find."

With a sinking sensation in my chest, I stood there as he turned and left. Jack Sterling was concealing something larger than I had anticipated. And I began to question whether entering his world had been a grave error for the first time.

I returned my attention to the folder that was poking out of the drawer as the study door clicked shut behind him. The fear of what I might find was almost as overwhelming as the urge. Standing there, I struggled to balance my need for answers with my growing awareness that the truth might cost me more than I was willing to pay.