The Threads Of Deceit

Chapter Three: Fractured Loyalties

The air in the house was suffocatingly thick with tension the next morning. Lucas's injuries were concealed beneath the tailored suit he wore as he descended the staircase, each slow step a painful reminder of the previous night’s events. He appeared stoic as ever, but beneath the surface, a storm brewed.

Downstairs, Ellie moved quietly through the kitchen, the comforting scent of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. She hadn’t slept well; the image of Lucas limping home, bruised and broken, haunted her throughout the night. Her eyes kept darting toward the stairs, anxiously awaiting his reappearance. When his heavy footsteps finally echoed in the hallway, she straightened, forcing herself to remain calm.

Vivian, however, was already seated at the breakfast table, her perfectly manicured nails tapping rhythmically on the surface. Her eyes flickered to Lucas as he entered the room, her lips curving into a sweet yet disinterested smile. She sipped her coffee leisurely, as if nothing were amiss, her demeanour cold and detached.

"Good morning, darling," Vivian purred, not bothering to look up from her phone as Lucas sat across from her. "I trust you had a restful night?"

Lucas grunted, his gaze flicking to Ellie, who was now pouring his coffee. Her hand trembled slightly as she handed him the cup, but she avoided eye contact, determined to maintain an appearance of normalcy.

Vivian didn’t seem to notice. "I have a meeting with some of the gallery investors later today," she continued, her tone laced with artificial cheerfulness. "You’ll need to make an appearance. They’re expecting you."

Lucas clenched his jaw, gripping the coffee cup with an intensity that betrayed his calm facade. "I’m not going anywhere today," he muttered, taking a sip of the scalding liquid without flinching.

Vivian’s eyes narrowed. Finally, she looked up from her phone, her voice sharpening. "Lucas, we discussed this. You know how important this is."

"Not today," Lucas repeated, his tone icy, leaving no room for argument. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze cold and unyielding.

Vivian bristled but said nothing, irritation simmering beneath the surface. She tapped her nails on the table, frustration palpable. "Fine," she finally snapped, her smile now tight and forced.

“I think we need to talk more about what happened last night,” Lucas said, his voice low.

“Not now, darling,” Vivian purred, her demeanour shifting to one of feigned innocence. “Why don’t we get upstairs for some time alone? We can discuss it then.” She threw a sly smirk toward Ellie. “I’ve missed you.”

Ellie moved around the kitchen in silence, her heart pounding as she tried to stay out of sight. She could feel the tension rising between Lucas and Vivian, each word exchanged like a sharpened blade. Despite her own fear of getting caught in the crossfire.

Lucas rose abruptly. "No, I’m off to some place," he said curtly. "I won’t be home until late, so don’t wait up."

Vivian barely nodded in response, her eyes dark and stormy as she watched him leave. The moment the front door clicked shut behind him, the air in the room shifted. Tension crackled between Vivian and Ellie.

Ellie turned her back to Vivian, busying herself by scrubbing the already spotless counter, but she could feel Vivian's gaze, heavy and brooding. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out what to say—how to address the growing tension between them without overstepping.

"Ellie," Vivian’s voice broke the silence, sharp and commanding.

She froze, her heart skipping a beat. Slowly, she turned to face her. "Sit," Vivian ordered, gesturing to the chair beside her.