Chapter 9: She Boy She Knew Is Long Gone

The villa was enveloped in a peculiar kind of quiet. It wasn’t the peaceful hush of night or the calm of the countryside—it was a silence that pressed in, holding secrets in its corners.

Mara lay awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to the soft patter of rain outside. It was both soothing and unsettling. The bed was too big, the blankets too heavy. Sleep never came easily here.

Finally, she sat up and slipped out of bed. Barefoot, she padded into the hallway. The marble floor was cold, making her shiver as she hugged her arms around herself. She told herself she was just restless, but in truth, she wanted to know what happened behind the locked doors Damon always walked through.

Damon had warned her not to wander. “Don’t go where you’re not called, Mara. Not everyone here is trustworthy.” His words echoed in her mind like a relentless warning.

But she kept walking.

Halfway down the corridor, faint voices slipped through the cracks of a closed door. It was Damon’s study. The same room where he had revealed pieces of his past. But now, the tone of his voice was different—sharper, colder.

Mara pressed her back against the wall, careful not to make a sound. A thin line of light spilled out from the door, along with words that sent chills down her spine.

“…we have a traitor inside,” Damon’s voice said, low and deadly.

Her breath caught.

Another man spoke. She didn’t recognize the voice. “We’ve narrowed it to three. Someone’s feeding Morales information. The attempted ambush last week wasn’t luck. They knew patrol routes.”

Silence fell, followed by the sound of Damon setting down a glass. “If that’s true, we need to expose them before they strike again. I don’t care how much it takes.”

The other man hesitated. “And what about the girl?”

Mara’s heart raced. The girl. That was her.

“What about her?” Damon's voice turned harsh.

“She’s in the middle of this. If Morales knows about her, he won’t stop until—”

“He won’t touch her.” Damon’s words sliced through like steel. “I’ll burn down every city block before I let him near her.”

The silence that followed was heavy, pulsing. Mara pressed her hand over her mouth, fighting to keep quiet. Her heart pounding.

The other man lowered his voice. “But if the traitor is inside, Don… they might already be close to her.”

Mara’s knees weakened. Her first thought went to Isla, then Elias. The faces of those she had just begun to trust suddenly seemed shadowed by doubt.

Damon pushed his chair back. She could picture him standing tall over the man across from him. “Find the rat,” he ordered. “And make sure everyone sees what happens to them. Slowly. No one betrays me and and breathes after.”

Mara flinched at the cruelty in his tone. She remembered the boy who once stole mango ice pops with her on summer afternoons, who laughed until his stomach hurt. That boy was gone, buried under this man who gave orders like death sentences.

As their voices dropped even lower, she knew she had to leave. Carefully, Mara stepped back from the door, praying the old wood wouldn’t creak. Every little movement felt loud, every breath a danger.

She made it back to her room and shut the door quietly, pressing her back against it. Her hands trembled as she slid down to the floor.

A traitor. Inside the villa. Watching her.

Her skin prickled as if invisible eyes were on her. Damon’s warning replayed in her head: Don’t trust anyone.

She thought of Isla's warm smile and Elias's quiet honesty. She thought of the cook Damon mentioned, nearly poisoned. None of it felt safe anymore.

And worst of all—if Damon found the traitor, what would he do? She had heard enough tonight to know the answer. The man he had become didn’t forgive. He destroyed.

Mara curled up on the cold floor. She wanted to believe she could still see pieces of the boy she once knew, but tonight reminded her: Damon lived in shadows now, and those shadows were swallowing her whole.

Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance. Inside, the villa felt alive with secrets she wasn’t meant to uncover.

For the first time, Mara wondered if safety with Damon was truly safety at all—or just another kind of prison, one built on fear and whispers in the walls.