Chapter 4

Maria's POV

The past three days had been a blur, filled with relentless training sessions and exercises. I felt like a shell of myself, both literally and figuratively. I was tutoring Lucia non-stop; how to walk, how to speak, how to behave. I taught her Isaac's favorite phrases, his favorite food, Elias's favorite dishes. And all the while, I wore a calm, detached expression, never allowing Elias or Carla to sense that anything was amiss.

But it was as though Elias knew something was going on. Suddenly, I was assigned three additional guards. Not to watch me, per se, but to accompany me everywhere. It wasn't unusual, Elias had enemies, but their arrival couldn't have come at a worse time.

Meeting with Lucia became a mission on its own, given how closely I was being monitored. Still, I made it work.

I told Elias I was planning to start a business, that it was meant to be a surprise, so I was meeting with potential partners over drinks every evening. He believed me. Though surprised, he didn't question it, which honestly was even more unsettling. He only asked if I needed anything, to which I shook my head. I didn't want him poking into it too deeply. I already had more than enough money on his golden card to fund any imaginary business.

His men followed, but they always waited outside while Lucia and I slipped behind the restaurant to train.

"I really can't do this shit, Maria. Why do I need all this training just to be like you?" Lucia groaned on day two.

I was just as frustrated. We only had one day left, and she still wasn't getting anything right.

I pulled out my phone and typed:

"It's not that hard, Lucia. You know Elias is high-profile. You have to talk, look, move, and carry yourself a certain way, well, not talk, since you're supposed to be deaf, but still..."

I showed her the message. She let out a loud groan, bent forward, and planted her hands on her knees.

"I can't do this, Maria. I really can't," she muttered, turning to leave.

I grabbed her hand, urgently signing for her to wait. Then I typed again:

"Please, Lucia. You're all I've got. I promise, just one more session and you'll be perfect. Look, we even have the same body shape now."

"That's because you've basically been feeding me everything," she shot back.

I typed again:

"The only thing left is for you to master my walk. I'll write everything else down for you to check when you forget. But this, you have to get this right. Elias knows every single thing about me. We can't give him a reason to suspect."

She read the message with a tight frown, lips pressed into a thin line. I could see her mentally weighing her options.

"Fine," she muttered. "Let's get this over with."

That was yesterday.

Now it was 2 p.m., and I had a function with Elias in two hours. Lucia would be attending in an identical outfit, with the same hairstyle. That was when we would switch.

That was the plan.

I had spent the past three nights tossing and turning, going over every detail. My time with Isaac had become so dedicated that Elias had noticed. But, as usual, he said nothing. I'd even started joining Elias at the dining table for breakfast and dinner, just to watch his face. Normally, I'd eat alone afterward or in my room.

I was nervous, unbelievably so, and again, I was sure Elias could tell. But he still said nothing, which only made my thoughts spiral further.

So many questions ran through my mind.

Was I doing the right thing?

What if Elias finds out?

What about Isaac? Would they even notice I was gone?

That last thought shattered something inside me.

Lucia and I looked so alike, same voice, same build. I even gave her my body cream and perfume so we'd smell the same. There should be no difference. And yet... it broke me to think I could be replaced so easily.

Make up your mind, Maria. Isn't this what you wanted? To be forgotten?

Then why does it hurt so much?

I was doing my usual routine with Isaac, teaching him new words and good manners, when a knock sounded at the door.

Elias poked his head in. Upon seeing him, my heart skipped.

"Dadda!" Isaac screamed, abandoning his book and running to him. Elias smiled genuinely, and picked him up, spinning him around in the air.

"Hey, buddy. How are you today?" he asked, balancing him on his hip.

"I'm fine. Mummy teach me words," Isaac stuttered adorably, still struggling at three years old.

Elias smiled at him, then turned to me. His smile dropped. My heart plummeted with it.

He stared at me for a long moment, his eyes gleaming in that familiar, unreadable way. Then he gently set Isaac down. Isaac ran straight back to me, and I hugged him tightly. I never missed a chance to hold him, especially now that I knew I'd be gone soon.

But Elias kept watching. His gaze felt like a spotlight on my skin, making me squirm.

I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes. I didn't know what I'd find there. Why was he still standing there? Why was he looking at me like that? He was supposed to hate me. He did hate me.

Did he know something?

Isaac asked for chocolate, and since I'd promised him one after his lessons, I nodded. He sprinted out into the hallway past Elias. I stood to follow, but as I tried to walk by him, Elias reached out and caught my wrist, gently, but firmly. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. His touch sent a shock of warmth and electricity through me.

I paused and turned, meeting his gaze. My eyes reflected desire, confusion, and fear. His pupils were blown wide, he looked intoxicated, but I knew better. Elias didn't do drugs. He didn't drink excessively. He never did anything reckless.

And yet right now, he looked at me like he wanted me, with a raw hunger that shook me to the core.

He opened his mouth to speak but quickly closed it again, like he'd just remembered I was "deaf." That realization should've felt normal by now, but it felt wrong somehow.

He turned me around, brushed my black hair over my shoulder, and pressed something cold against my neck. I sucked in a sharp breath. His hands were warm, almost too warm, and the contrast made my skin prickle.

He clasped the necklace delicately, then pushed my hair back in place. My fingers moved instinctively to feel it. The metal was smooth, elegant, expensive.

He turned me around again to face him. His eyes were still on the necklace, and something about the way he looked at me made my knees go weak.

"Beautiful," he whispered. "You are so beautiful."

I watched his lips as he spoke, though I didn't need to. I could hear him. Every word landed like a weight on my chest, breaking me and healing me at once.

Tears slid down my cheeks before I could stop them. He gently wiped one away, probably thinking they were tears of happiness. Maybe they were, in part. But they were also tears of regret. Because everything I'd ever wished for; his attention, his tenderness, was suddenly being handed to me.

On the very day I'd chosen to walk away from it.

Life had a wicked sense of humor.

My body trembled with a mix of longing and heartbreak. Elias leaned forward and kissed the top of my head, his fingers brushing the necklace once more before he turned to leave.

And that was when I let the rest of the tears fall, freely and without apology.

I joined them in the sitting room after carefully dabbing concealer over my swollen, tear-puffed eyes. I didn't want Elias to see that I'd been crying. Not because I was hiding it, but because I didn't even know how to explain the reason behind the tears.

Elias was already on the couch, cradling Isaac on his lap and feeding him small pieces of chocolate. The warm smell of it hung faintly in the air, comforting but distant. Two pairs of eyes turned to meet mine.

Isaac's lit up immediately, full of innocent glee. My little boy, always happy to see me, always my soft place to land.

But Elias's eyes... his were unreadable. Dark and quiet, holding a kind of storm behind them that refused to come forward. I couldn't tell if he was angry, curious, or something far more complicated.

I cleared my throat softly and stepped further into the room, trying to gather myself.

The air between Elias and me was thick, stifling. Tense in a way that it never was before. Elias and I didn't have tension, not like this. Not this slow-burning silence that felt like it would ignite if either of us said the wrong thing.

I still couldn't wrap my head around what happened upstairs. The gift, his look. That single touch.

None of it made sense.

It made me ache all over. Especially between my thighs, God help me.

What was wrong with me?

As heartbroken as I felt, as confused and crushed and silent as I'd been all day... I was still aroused.

And it was humiliating.

It just went to show how long I'd been starved of my husband's affection. How touch-starved I had become that the lightest flick of his fingers brushing my hair could melt me down to nothing. One second of him remembering I was his wife, and I'd turned to putty.

I couldn't stay in that room, not while his eyes were still on me like that. Not while my body was still burning with need and shame and everything in between.

So I walked past him and into the kitchen, pretending I didn't feel his gaze on my back.

My throat was dry, parched from crying. I needed something, anything, to distract me from the ache that had settled low in my belly.

I poured a glass of cold water and gulped it down quickly, the chill of it almost shocking, almost helpful. I exhaled, pressed my palms briefly against the counter to steady myself, then made my way back into the living room.

Elias was still there, his body relaxed against the couch as though none of this was unusual. Isaac had already begun to doze, his head tucked gently under his father's chin. Elias's hand was idly running through his son's curls, slow and tender.

But the moment I stepped into the room, his fingers stilled. He looked up at me again, waiting. Watching.

That same unreadable expression. That same quiet intensity.

I took a breath and signed carefully.

"Thank you for the gift. You didn't have to."

Elias didn't answer right away. His eyes just held mine. Focused. Quiet.

Then slowly, he removed his fingers from Isaac's hair and raised his hands.

"You are welcome."

That was all.

No further explanation, no softness. There was no remnant of anything from upstairs.

Just those three words, and that was it.

I stood there for a moment longer, our eyes locked, the silence between us somehow louder than ever. Something passed through me in that second, something warm and cold and terrifying.

Then I broke away first.

I leaned down and pressed a kiss to Isaac's cheek. He didn't stir. His little body was completely at peace, tucked safely into his father's chest.

And then I turned and walked away.

I entered my room, closed the door quietly behind me, and let the breath I'd been holding fall from my chest.

I peeled off my damp underwear and tossed it aside, my thighs trembling with restraint. I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror. I didn't want to.

And then, still aching, still silently unraveling, I got to work.