The Blackmail contract Bride - Chapter 50: Chapter 50

Lena POV:
I lay on my back, gazing at the ceiling, tracing the cracks with my eyes.
I wasn’t quite sure what I was searching for—perhaps a distraction or maybe just trying to occupy my mind with nothing at all.
The room was enveloped in a thick quietness. It didn’t feel soothing; it felt heavy, a silence that pressed down on me, making each breath a bit harder to take.
Sleep eluded me. I remained still and weary, listening to Dominic’s rhythmic breaths beside me.
His hand rested on my stomach, warm and unmoving, as if it naturally belonged there. Like everything that had transpired over the past day had somehow vanished.
As if the events of the last twenty-four hours hadn’t shifted the dynamic between us entirely.
I felt the urge to pull away.
But I didn’t.
Not because I felt alright.
But because the thought of moving seemed too overwhelming, too noisy, too definitive.
So I stayed put. Just staring, waiting, gripping the blanket as if it could anchor me to reality.
One thought echoed relentlessly in my mind, sharp and unrelenting.
Emma.
At some point, I finally slipped into sleep.
And in my dreams, I found myself in a long, white corridor that stretched on endlessly.
Doors lined either side, yet each one was firmly locked.
I called out for Emma repeatedly, but my voice only bounced back to me, unanswered.
That’s when I spotted her.
She was a distance away, small and pale.
She didn’t say a word, just stood there, observing me.
A tall figure in black loomed behind her. His face was obscured, but somehow, I knew it was Dominic.
I sprinted towards her.
Just before she disappeared, she uttered a single phrase.
> “Too late.”
I jolted awake, gasping for air.
My heart raced as if it might burst from my chest.
My face was soaked, and my hands trembled.
I wasn’t certain if I had screamed, but when I looked over, I saw Dominic awake, watching me with uncertainty.
I turned away, wiping my cheeks dry. “Just a dream.”
His voice was soft. “You were crying.”
I stayed silent.
He got up without saying a word, and for a moment, I thought he was leaving.
But soon, he returned.
He handed me a glass of water.
I hesitated for a moment before accepting it.
Our fingers brushed against each other briefly, and we both recoiled, startled by the contact.
He settled at the edge of the bed, avoiding my gaze.
He didn’t speak or try to console me.
He simply sat there.
This time, the silence between us wasn’t cold, but it certainly didn’t feel safe either.
It was just… quiet.
And for once, I didn’t feel the need to defend myself.
That realization frightened me more than I anticipated.
Morning came, bringing sunlight that seeped through the curtains.
I had no desire to get out of bed. But staying there only deepened my sense of despair.
So I forced myself to shower. The hot water offered some relief, and I lingered until my skin turned pink and my fingers began to prune.
When I stepped out, I noticed a tray of food waiting outside my door.
Beside it lay a note.
> I’ll be in the study. If you feel like talking.
—D.
I found myself staring at it for a long while.
I really didn’t want to go.
But I ended up going anyway.
Not because I longed for him.
But because I simply couldn't bear being alone in that room any longer.
As I stepped into the study, I noticed Dominic at his desk, sifting through a folder.
He stood up the moment he saw me.
“You actually came,” he said.
“Don’t make a fuss about it,” I replied.
“I won’t,” he assured me with a nod. “I figured you’d want to talk.”
“I really don’t.”
He chose not to press the issue.
I wandered over to the bookshelf, trailing my fingers over the book spines without actually taking in any of the titles.
“Did you get any sleep?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Do you genuinely care?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Even if it’s hard for you to believe.”
I stayed silent.
The quiet felt uncomfortable.
I picked up a book, flipped through its pages absentmindedly, and then placed it back on the shelf.
“Was that room always there?” I inquired.
He looked puzzled. “What room?”
“The storage room down the hall.”
He hesitated for a moment.
“It was where I kept things that were private,” he explained.
“Like Emma’s medical records?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Why would you keep them there?”
“I wanted to keep her safe.”
“From me?” I pressed.
“No. From those who wouldn’t care if she vanished.”
His words only deepened my sense of unease.
Later that afternoon, I wandered to the garden behind the mansion.
It used to belong to Mira.
The roses were blooming far too early this year.
Maybe it was the weather, or maybe everything was just chaotic now.
I watched a butterfly alight on a flower and stood still for longer than I intended.
I found my mind drifting.
Thinking about leaving.
About changing my name.
About running away with the baby.
But then I recalled how Dominic had looked the night before.
He hadn’t seemed strong.
He’d looked terrified.
Before dusk, I returned to my room.
The curtains were pulled open. The bed was neatly made. A fresh tray of food sat on the table.
Next to it was a sticky note.
> No cameras in your room. Not anymore.
—D.
It didn’t really make me feel any safer.
But it stirred something inside me.
I found myself standing in front of the mirror for a long time.
My reflection looked different, drained, pale.
I didn’t recognize myself.
And I didn’t feel like the person I once was either.
That realization frightened me more than anything.
I crawled into bed early.
Not because I was eager for sleep.
But because staying awake would mean confronting questions.
Questions that I wasn’t prepared to face.
Like what I'd do if Dominic finally opened up to me.
Or worse, what I’d choose if he didn’t.
And I forgave him all the same.