Chapter 9: A Flicker of Change
The days after the gala felt like a slow, unyielding march. Aria woke up each morning to the quiet hum of the estate—too quiet, too still. The usual buzz of servants and staff did little to fill the vast emptiness she felt in the house. It was as if the place itself was holding its breath, waiting for something, anything, to break the silence.
She could hear Elias's footsteps echoing down the hall at all hours, always moving, always distant. He was a man perpetually on the move, buried under the weight of his empire, and yet, there were moments when she could feel his presence just outside her door, hovering like a phantom. It made her skin prickle, and she would always find herself holding her breath, praying that he wouldn't knock, wouldn't speak, wouldn't remind her of the contract that bound them together.
But it was only a matter of time before their paths crossed again.
That evening, Aria was seated at the long, ornate dining table, her fork poised halfway to her mouth when the door opened. She froze, unsure if she should acknowledge him or stay silent. Elias stepped in, his dark suit perfect as ever, his expression guarded. But this time, there was something different—something she couldn't place. The usual icy detachment in his gaze seemed… strained.
"I'll be dining in my office tonight," Elias announced, his voice carrying an edge of finality. "You can eat without me."
Aria hesitated, wondering if she should protest, but she quickly realized that her words would be meaningless. She nodded and returned to her meal, not out of compliance, but because it felt pointless to try to reach out anymore. It wasn't as though he ever gave her room to speak, anyway.
---
Later that night, after dinner, Aria wandered the estate again, her mind restless. She could feel the weight of the silence pressing on her chest. The grand piano in the parlor caught her eye. She hadn't played in weeks—months, maybe—but the urge hit her suddenly. She needed to feel something, anything, to break through the monotony of her days.
She approached the piano, her fingers brushing the keys gently. The sound that filled the room was soft but powerful, a melody she hadn't realized she still remembered.
---
Half an hour passed before the door behind her opened, and she froze, her fingers halting mid-chord.
"Aria." Elias's voice was unexpected, breaking the silence in the most jarring way.
She turned to face him, unsure of what to say. He stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, his arms crossed. His gaze softened just a little, though his face was still unreadable.
"Are you… listening?" he asked, his voice lower now, quieter.
Aria blinked, her heart pounding. "I didn't think you'd be here."
"I don't come here often," he replied. "But…" His eyes flicked to the piano before returning to hers. "You used to play?"
"Not really," Aria said quickly, lowering her hands from the keys. "I haven't in a long time."
Elias didn't respond immediately. The tension between them was thick, almost suffocating. She wasn't sure what was happening, or what had caused this sudden shift. The Elias she knew wouldn't care about something as trivial as her piano playing.
But tonight, something was different.
"I didn't know you could play," he said, stepping closer. The closeness was unfamiliar, almost intimate. "I always assumed you were… distant."
Aria's brows furrowed. "Distant?"
Elias met her gaze, and for a moment, there was something almost vulnerable in his eyes. "I've seen how you keep to yourself. It's…" He paused, then sighed. "It's hard to understand."
Aria didn't know what to say to that. The space between them felt impossibly small, yet the distance was as wide as ever. She was still just a stranger to him—an obligation. A contract. Nothing more.
"Do you… ever get lonely?" she asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper. She wasn't sure where the question came from, but it was too late to take it back.
Elias didn't answer right away. His eyes held hers, and for a moment, she thought he might walk away, that he'd retreat into his world of control and distance. But instead, he took another step forward, closing the space between them entirely.
"Yes," he said quietly. "I get lonely."
The words hung in the air, unspoken and heavy. Aria's heart beat a little faster, a strange mixture of confusion and something else stirring inside her.
But before she could say anything else, Elias turned away, his mask returning.
"Get some rest," he said, his voice cool once more. "We have a meeting tomorrow."
And with that, he was gone.
---
Aria stood there for a long time, the piano keys still lingering with the echo of the music. She didn't know what to make of their conversation, or of Elias's rare admission. It was fleeting, almost as if he regretted it as soon as he spoke.
But for the first time in a long while, Aria felt something stir inside her. A flicker of hope? Or maybe just the beginning of something she wasn't ready to understand.
Either way, she couldn't help but wonder: was it possible that Elias Xian, the man who had built walls taller than any she'd ever seen, could be just as trapped as she was?