C7 Crack beneath the promise

And just like that… days turned into weeks, and weeks melted into months.

The world had begun to move again around Vivian Dary, but she herself was stuck in place…caught between memories of the stormy night that changed everything and the uncertain quiet that followed.

She sat hunched over her laptop in her softly lit bedroom, the scent of lavender drifting from a candle flickering nearby. Her fingers danced across the keyboard, the soft click, click, click echoing through the calm. Across from her, Cecilia sat on her bed, her eyes buried in a thick notebook filled with notes and dreams.

Vivian’s voice broke the silence.

“But you can still get a good-paying job with your degree. Why do you still want to go for your master’s?” Her tone was low, hesitant, her eyes never fully leaving the laptop screen.

Cecilia looked up, closing her notebook with a soft thud. A small smirk touched her lips, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You wouldn’t understand, Viv. You’ve got a golden ticket waiting for you…your father’s empire, your family name. Me? I have to earn everything I get.”

Vivian chuckled softly. “That’s not true.”

Cecilia raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Let’s be honest…if you were the CEO and had to choose between someone with a degree and someone with a PhD, who would you hire?”

Vivian puffed her cheeks playfully, then grinned. “I’d hire you, of course. As my personal assistant. That way we could gossip all day, talk about boys, and complain about our old lecturers.”

Cecilia laughed but shook her head. “You’re impossible. This is the real world, Vivian. I’m not chasing another degree for the title. I want to create something that’s mine….be my own boss.”

She turned her laptop toward Vivian. “So, tell me, which country do you think would be best for my master’s? Canada or the UK?”

Vivian leaned forward, but before she could respond, her face suddenly tensed. One hand flew to her mouth. “Oh no…” she murmured, bolting upright.

Cecilia frowned. “Vivian?”

But before she could move, Vivian rushed to the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind her.

Cecilia blinked, startled. “Are you okay? Do you need water?”

From inside, a muffled voice replied, “I’m fine!”

Moments passed. The silence stretched uncomfortably. Cecilia exhaled, shaking her head, and went back to her laptop. But before she could resume typing, Vivian’s phone buzzed on the bed beside her.

The screen flashed once, then again…Wedding Planner.

Cecilia’s brows furrowed. “Wedding… planner?” she muttered under her breath. She told herself it was nothing…maybe one of those spam calls.

Then Vivian emerged from the bathroom, pale and trembling slightly, dabbing her face with a towel.

“Vivian, you look awful,” Cecilia said, standing. “You need to see a doctor.”

“I will,” Vivian replied quickly, voice faint. “Tomorrow, I promise. It’s probably nothing serious.”

“How long have you been feeling like this?”

Vivian avoided her eyes. “A few weeks. Maybe more.”

Before Cecilia could say another word, Vivian darted back into the washroom again.

Cecilia sighed, rubbing her temples. “Something’s not right with her,” she murmured.

To distract herself, she turned toward Vivian’s laptop…the one sitting unlocked on the table. Her own laptop had just frozen, so without thinking twice, she reached for Vivian’s.

The screen blinked awake. And what Cecilia saw made her blood run cold.

An open document titled “Vivian & Victor – Wedding Plan.”

Folders filled with dress designs, guest lists, venue photos, and budget sheets neatly labeled “Reception – Paris, M15.”

Cecilia’s heart stuttered. “Oh my God…”

Just then, the bathroom door burst open.

“What are you doing?!” Vivian’s voice was sharp, panicked. She snatched the laptop away, clutching it to her chest.

Cecilia froze, caught between guilt and fear. “Vivian… are you planning a wedding?”

Vivian’s face hardened. “Why were you going through my stuff?”

“I wasn’t snooping!” Cecilia protested. “My laptop froze, I just…Vivian, answer me. Are you planning a wedding?”

Vivian looked away. “No. I mean… it’s for a friend.”

Cecilia crossed her arms. “A friend? Since when do you organize weddings?”

“Just let it go,” Vivian said softly, turning her back. “It’s not what you think.”

“Vivian,” Cecilia pressed, her tone dropping, “is it Victor?”

Vivian went still.

The silence said it all.

Cecilia’s voice trembled. “You’re marrying him?”

Vivian turned slowly, eyes flashing. “So what if I am?”

Cecilia’s jaw dropped. “Vivian, have you lost your mind? After everything that happened? After how your father nearly…”

“Don’t bring my father into this!” Vivian snapped, her tone slicing through the air.

“Then what do you want me to say?” Cecilia’s voice cracked. “You’re brilliant, beautiful, kind…you could have anyone, and yet you’re running back to him! The same man who…”

“Enough!” Vivian’s voice rose, her hand trembling on the laptop. “You don’t know him like I do. You don’t understand us.”

“I understand manipulation when I see it,” Cecilia shot back. “You think love means defending someone who only wants what you have? He’s using you, Viv!”

“Stop it!” Vivian shouted, tears welling in her eyes. “You don’t get to talk about him like that!”

The room fell silent, heavy with unspoken words.

Vivian opened the laptop again, scrolling through a chat. “He loves me, Cecilia. Look.”

Cecilia hesitated, glancing at the screen. Long messages filled the page…paragraphs of sweet apologies and promises.

Vivian’s voice softened. “He made mistakes, yes. But he’s changed. He said he couldn’t sleep knowing he hurt me. He wants to make things right.”

Cecilia shook her head, her voice low and trembling. “Vivian… he’s not changing. He’s just perfecting the art of lying.”

“Get out,” Vivian whispered.

“Vivian…”

“I said get out!”

The finality in her tone left no room for argument.

Cecilia swallowed hard, grabbed her things, and walked toward the door. “Call me when you come back to your senses,” she said quietly.

When the door slammed behind her, the echo lingered like a wound that wouldn’t close.

⸻

That Night

The city skyline glittered beyond Cecilia’s window, but her mind was a blur. She sat cross-legged on her bed, staring at nothing. Her mother, Regina, entered quietly, holding a cup of tea.

“You’ve been quiet all evening,” Regina said softly, sitting beside her. “What’s wrong?”

Cecilia hesitated. “It’s Vivian.”

Regina frowned. “Again?”

“She’s… she’s planning a wedding. With Victor.”

The cup in Regina’s hand nearly slipped. “That boy? The same one who…”

“Yes.”

Regina sighed, setting the cup down. “You should tell her parents. They’re the only ones who can stop this.”

Cecilia shook her head. “I can’t. That would feel like betrayal. Vivian’s already fragile. If she finds out I went behind her back, she’ll never forgive me.”

“Maybe she doesn’t have to forgive you,” Regina said gently. “Maybe she just has to be safe.”

Cecilia looked down at her hands. “She won’t listen to anyone, Mom. She believes he’s changed.”

Regina sighed deeply, her expression weary. “Then pray she realizes the truth before it’s too late. Some lessons, unfortunately, only pain can teach.”

Cecilia closed her eyes, a single tear slipping down her cheek.

⸻

Elsewhere…

Across the city, laughter echoed through the dimly lit VIP lounge of an exclusive bar. The air was thick with perfume, liquor, and deception.

Victor lounged on a leather couch, a glass of whiskey swirling lazily in his hand. Around him sat his friends…men who thrived on arrogance and envy.

“To riches and women!” one of them cheered, raising his glass.

Victor smirked, clinking his glass against theirs. “To smart women,” he corrected. “The kind who come with perks.”

Laughter erupted. A dancer passed by, and Victor slapped her lightly on the hip, making her giggle.

“You’ve really got this Dary girl wrapped around your finger, huh?” one friend said, leaning forward.

Victor grinned. “More than wrapped. She’s head over heels. Everything practically set.”

“Damn, man,” another laughed. “You’re about to become a billionaire .”

Victor leaned back, eyes gleaming. “You don’t get it. This isn’t just about money. Once I’m in, I’m in. Her father’s empire, their shares, their estates… I’ll have access to everything.”

“You think they’ll just hand it to you?”

He shrugged, sipping his drink. “They won’t have a choice once we’re married. Half of everything becomes mine.”

The men burst into cheers, toasting him again.

“Here’s to Victor…the man who hit the jackpot!” one of them shouted.

Victor laughed, tipping his glass. “Gentlemen, I told you before…love is for fools. But power?” He raised his drink high, his smirk cold and calculated. “Power is forever.”

They roared with approval, drowning in music and vice.

But beneath the flashing lights, Victor’s reflection in the mirror behind the bar looked darker than the rest of him—smiling, yes, but something else….

⸻

Meanwhile

Back in her room, Vivian stared at her phone, her thumb hovering over Victor’s contact. Her eyes were swollen, her mind clouded.

She wanted to believe him…to believe that all the whispers, the warnings, the doubts were lies. That the man she loved was not the monster others saw.

Her heart whispered one thing. Her mind screamed another.

And somewhere, deep down, she knew…when love starts costing you your peace, you’ve already paid too much.

But denial was its own kind of comfort.

Vivian took a deep breath, dialed his number, and whispered into the silence, “I love you too.”