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Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Celeste Monroe’s parents had been laid to rest by Damien Sterling himself.
On the day of their funeral, Celeste had locked herself in the closet again.,
When Damien found her, he didn’t force her out. Instead, he opened the closet door and
epped inside to sit with her.
“Uncle Damien,” she whispered, her tear–filled eyes searching his.
“Is it this dark and cold inside a coffin too?”
Her voice wavered as she continued, “I dreamed that Mom asked me to join her in the coffin. She said she’s so cold and scared being in there all alone…”
“That was just a dream,” Damien said firmly.
“Don’t be afraid. You’re not going anywhere. I won’t let anyone take you from me.”
She threw her arms around his neck, her voice soft against his ear.
“As long as you’re with me, Uncle Damien, I wouldn’t even be afraid of being locked in a
coffin.”
It seemed Damien hadn’t forgotten that moment.
Now, he had misunderstood.
He thought Celeste’s cryo–chamber designs were another veiled confession.
“If you don’t like it, I’ll change the design,” Celeste said quietly.
“It’s just a summer project–no need to get upset.”
Damien said nothing, his face cold and unreadable.
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It was Isolde Langley who broke the tension, laughing as she chimed in, “Exactly! Change it to something more cheerful. Coffins are so morbid. A young woman like you shouldn’t be so
dark–be more positive!”
Celeste bent down and gathered the scattered papers.
Then, under Damien’s watchful gaze, she walked over to the trash can and threw the entire stack away.
nly then did Damien’s expression soften slightly.
Later that night, after everyone had gone to bed, Celeste snuck back into the living room.
Quietly, she retrieved the discarded documents from the trash.
As she returned to her room, she froze. Isolde was stepping out of Damien’s bedroom, wearing a silk camisole.
Her shoulders and back were covered in faint, unmistakable marks.
Celeste didn’t need to guess what had happened between them.
She forced herself to look away, repeating in her mind: Don’t look.
Don’t think.
She’s his fiancée.
Whatever they do is normal.
It’s what’s supposed to happen.
Damien loves her.
She makes him happy.
That’s all that matters.
“Celeste,” Isolde called out, her tone dripping with mockery, a stark contrast to her earlier warmth. “Why can’t you look me in the eye? Is it because you still can’t accept that Damien
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loves me and not you?”
Celeste lowered her gaze, her voice calm.
“No, I’ve already accepted it.”
“Don’t lie to yourself,” Isolde sneered, stepping closer.
“You think I can’t tell? The way you look at Damien–it’s not normal.”
She laughed cruelly.
“You call him Uncle Damien, but he raised you. For all intents and purposes, he’s your adoptive father. And yet, you fell in love with him… Celeste, are you some kind of psycho?”
Celeste bit her lip so hard it nearly bled.
She didn’t respond.
Am I a psycho?
she wondered.
No wonder Damien had been so disgusted with her once he realized her feelings.
To the outside world, this love was twisted–something shameful and unworthy.
Isolde’s voice turned even colder as she continued, her words calculated to wound.
“I heard you’re an orphan because your mother went crazy. She stabbed your father over a hundred times in the middle of the night and killed him.”
“Makes sense now–you’re just like her. Psychotic tendencies must run in your family”
Celeste could tolerate insults aimed at her, but she couldn’t bear anyone desecrating her
parents‘ memory.
“Shut up!” she screamed, lunging forward and grabbing Isolde by the throat.
“You don’t know the full story. You have no right-”
Chapter 3
Before she could finish, a sharp, cold voice cut through the air.
“Celeste, what do you think you’re doing?!”
Celeste turned to see Damien standing in the doorway, his eyes blazing with fury.
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