Chapter 24: The Smile He Lost

"He's been asking for Nathaniel Ashford," Damien repeated.

The rain outside seemed to stop all at once.

I stared at him, waiting for the rest.

"Who is he?" I asked.

"The clinic wouldn't tell me over the phone."

"They only said he survived the crash."

"That's impossible."

"The police report listed only one victim."

"I know."

"Then someone lied."

Neither of us spoke.

Three years of grief suddenly felt incomplete.

If another person had been inside that car...

Everything we believed about the accident could change.

"When are you leaving?"

"Now."

"I'm coming with you."

"No."

"You don't trust me."

"Not yet."

"Then give me one reason to."

He looked directly at me.

"Because if this witness is real, whoever tried to silence Nathaniel may try again."

"That includes you."

"I've survived three years already."

"Don't test your luck."

He turned toward the staircase.

"Stay here."

"Damien."

He stopped.

"If you learn anything about my brother..."

"You'll know before anyone else."

Then he walked away.

I remained on the balcony until the sound of his car disappeared beyond the gates.

Behind me, Rose approached quietly.

"Madam?"

"Yes?"

"Mr. Ashford looked different."

"Different how?"

"He wasn't angry."

"He looked... frightened."

I didn't answer.

Because Rose was right.

For the first time since I married Damien, fear had replaced certainty.

Not fear of losing the company.

Not fear of the scandal.

Fear of the truth.

I returned to my room and locked the door.

Nathaniel's diary lay open on the bed.

I turned another page.

Most entries described meetings, numbers and account transfers.

Then one sentence caught my attention.

"Damien smiled today."

I frowned.

The next paragraph continued.

"People misunderstand him."

"When he forgets the company, he laughs easily."

"Vivian brings out the best in him."

"I hope she never loses that smile."

My chest tightened.

Nathaniel had liked Damien.

Long before our wedding.

Long before the accident.

He had trusted him.

Another page.

"Something changed after Richard called Damien into the board meeting."

"Since then, he watches everyone before speaking."

"Even Vivian."

"Someone is teaching him fear."

Richard.

Damien's father.

I underlined the name with my finger.

Another missing piece.

A soft vibration interrupted my thoughts.

My phone.

One new message.

Unknown number.

"Don't trust the witness until you know who paid his hospital bills."

No signature.

Just another warning.

I immediately called the number.

It was switched off.

Five minutes later, another message arrived.

"Ask Damien why he stopped smiling three years ago."

I read the sentence again.

Then again.

Nathaniel had written about Damien's smile.

Now a stranger mentioned it too.

Coincidence didn't exist anymore.

Someone wanted me to ask that exact question.

Hours passed.

Near midnight, headlights swept across the curtains.

Damien had returned.

His footsteps were slower than usual.

A few moments later, there was a knock.

"Vivian."

I opened the door.

His shirt was wrinkled.

His tie was gone.

Dark circles framed his eyes.

"The witness disappeared," he said.

"What?"

"By the time I reached the clinic, his room was empty."

"Discharged?"

"No."

"Taken."

"By whom?"

"Someone signed him out using forged medical papers."

"Did anyone see them?"

"Only one nurse."

"She described two men."

"Did she recognise them?"

"No."

"But she remembered one detail."

"What detail?"

"One of them kept asking whether the patient had spoken to Nathaniel's sister."

A chill travelled down my spine.

"They know about me."

"Yes."

"They always have."

He reached into his coat pocket and removed a small transparent evidence bag.

Inside lay a silver cufflink.

The engraved crest caught the bedroom light.

I recognised it immediately.

It belonged to Ashford Holdings.

"They found this beside the empty hospital bed," Damien said.

"Only executives receive these cufflinks."

"How many people have one?"

"Seven."

"Including you?"

"Including me."

"Then someone wants you blamed."

"Or warned."

Our eyes met.

For the first time, we were asking the same question.

Not as husband and wife.

Not as enemies.

But as two people standing inside the same trap.

Damien looked at the cufflink one last time before speaking.

"Vivian..."

"I think I've spent three years hating the wrong person."