Between Shadows and Silk Sheets

Chapter 1

Evelyn Taylor awoke with a start, momentarily disoriented, but reality jolted back in: he was in an enormous, lavishly decorated master bedroom. The ceiling lights glinted off the opulent decor, illuminating the blue-toned plush bed where he was still nestled under soft, silk sheets.

The sound of a low, disdainful voice broke through his fog. "Who said you could get in bed with me?"

Blinking rapidly, he focused on the figure looming at the foot of the bed. Tall and imposing, the man stood like a dark statue, looking down at him with an intense expression, his rigid posture hinting at supreme confidence. The light captured every angular feature of his face, a striking contrast of cold porcelain skin against raven-black hair, and his deep-set eyes glinted with a steely edge that sent a shiver down Evelyn's spine. He looked like a character straight out of a high-stakes thriller, handsome with an aura that screamed danger.

Evelyn couldn't help but feel a rush of mixed emotions—fear, intrigue, and an undeniable rogue wave of attraction. Seriously? The first thing I wake up to is this walking definition of "tall, dark, and handsome"? This was not the orientation he had expected after stumbling headfirst into this absurd situation.

What on earth happened? One moment he was living his uneventful life, and the next, he was trapped in the body of Amelia Howard, the designated pawn in a twisted power play between two rival families—the Howards and the Browns. And today marked the very beginning of the scheme where he was to quietly tank Edward Brown, the family's fiercest adversary.

Great, just great.

As he propped himself up on one elbow, Evelyn felt his heart race. This day—his wedding day—was supposed to be a low-key disaster in which he would simply play the sacrificial lamb. But now, standing in front of him was the very man whose downfall was orchestrated around his existence.

"Listen," he started, trying to sound composed despite the nerves bubbling inside him. “Do you normally barge into your clingy bride’s dreams, or just when she has no idea what's going on?”

Edward's expression flatlined, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—was it amusement? “You think you're clever, huh?”

Evelyn shrugged, trying to reclaim some of his scattered confidence. “I don’t make it a habit to sleep with guys who look like they just walked out of a noir film, but here we are.”

Edward stepped closer, a predatory gleam lighting up his dark gaze. “You have no idea how the game is played. I want to know how much you actually know.”

Evelyn tilted his head, a playful smile creeping onto his lips. “Surprises abound! Let’s just say I’m ready to be the best little pawn you’ve ever had.”

A challenge flickered in Edward's eyes. “Let’s see how long you last.”

Evelyn adjusted his position, folding his arms behind his head—he found the plush mattress far too accommodating. “I’m excited—let's make it interesting. You, me, and a little chaotic fun.”

Edward crossed his arms, leaning against the frame of the thick door like he owned the place—which he probably did. “You're a strange one.” He shook his head, his lips curling into the slightest smirk.

“You're one to talk,” Evelyn quipped back, suddenly exhilarated by the exchange. This was not the battle he had imagined.

Fate had thrust them together under impossible circumstances, but if he had to play this role, he’d at least enjoy the view—the view being Edward, who was gaining a dangerous edge in intrigue.

As the moments ticked away, an electric tension hung between them. Outside, a world of boardroom scheming and treacherous alliances awaited, yet here in this moment, both were unmasked.

Whatever the past had been, this was now a twisted game of revenge and power. The Howards had a grand scheme orchestrated, but that script was about to get a rewrite.

The door to the master bedroom swung shut with a definitive bang, sealing them in an uncertain future together. Who would emerge victorious? The ruthless power-brokers or the pawn placed to ruin them?

Evelyn grinned wickedly. If he was going to be the forsaken lady, he'd do it with flair.

Chapter 2

Evelyn was slender, almost fragile.

With understated politeness, he replied, “It’s not like we didn’t have a wedding. The Howard family just kind of packed me up and shipped me over, remember? You weren’t around when they arrived. The butler told me to wait in the room for you.”

“Packed me up” was a surprisingly vivid choice of words. It captured both his position in the Howard family and their marriage in one fell swoop, painting a clear picture of his situation.

He noticed Edward’s brow twitch slightly at his words. The intensity of Edward’s gaze deepened just a fraction.

Evelyn didn’t feel particularly moved by the moment—after all, this was how the original author had written it. The story seemed too focused on business conflicts to waste ink on the marriage of a minor character, so they had chosen to skip over it entirely.

That was how he found himself here, sent directly over after a casual dinner with the Howards—not unlike a guy crashing at a friend’s place after a night of gaming.

“So, you just fell asleep,” Edward said, his voice low. “In my bed.”

Evelyn flushed, “I’m sorry. It was just too comfy.”

He had waited too long after arriving; sitting on the bed had lulled him into sleep.

“Is that right?” Edward’s dark eyes were fixated on him, but it felt more like a warning than flirtation, as if he already knew the answer but wanted to test him. “I thought maybe you were looking forward to something.”

“Looking forward to what?” Evelyn was caught off guard by how suggestive the conversation had become.

He glanced over Edward’s broad shoulders, taut waist, and long legs. “Is that something that can even happen?”

Edward didn’t take his eyes off Evelyn’s face, his brow furrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

Evelyn bit his lip. “I hope this isn’t going to be something I have to hide from.”

This was supposed to be a safe space after all.

Edward simply stared.

The two were enveloped in a tense silence, the air thick with unspoken words. Just as Evelyn prepared to say something to break the quiet, he saw Edward suddenly lean one leg against the edge of the bed.

The distance between them closed, and the deep gray of his tailored trousers stretched taut, hinting at the powerful muscles beneath. Evelyn’s heart raced as he stared at the intruding leg. “You can’t be serious…”

“Who are you?” Edward’s voice sliced through the moment, cool and sharp.

“Um…” Evelyn looked up and found himself locked in a gaze with those piercing black eyes, searching and penetrating.

The instinctive thought creeping in was that he had let his guard down—maybe the real “Amelia” was slipping through the cracks. But that couldn't be right; they were both characters in a story, and they were meeting for the first time today. What was there to expose?

He held his ground. “I’m Amelia.”

Edward’s stare remained unwavering.

He realized Edward wasn’t seeking a name but rather the essence of who he was supposed to portray. Taking a moment to consider, Evelyn’s expression shifted into realization: oh, was he really supposed to recite that cliché line…

Typical for a character in a novel, right? Time to play along.

Evelyn replied, “I work for Mr. Brown.”

A classic line from the genre; the obligatory “I’m loyal to my boss” line.

The silence hung between them for a while until Edward’s lips curled into an ambiguous smile. “My guy.”

Evelyn responded, “Right.”

Edward shut his eyes for a moment. His “guy” indeed, just like the memories of a past life flashed before him: betrayals by friends and family, partnerships falling apart, his empire crumbling… all leading him to that moment, the shattering glass of a car crash, the red splatter of blood.

The fading sounds of screeching brakes echoed in his mind, pain radiating through his body.

He thought about what he had done wrong—always striving, but never enough—until that last moment when he realized it was all just “fate.” No matter how much he fought, he was always meant to be a stepping stone for the Howard family.

That thought ignited a fire in him.

Edward opened his eyes again, and his gaze fell on Evelyn’s neck—exposed, delicate, almost pale. The skin, sun-deprived and too thin, revealed the faint outline of blue veins beneath.

It was tempting, vulnerable.

Suppressing the tumult of feelings inside him, Edward spoke with a hint of amusement, “Oh, and how do you plan to prove that?”

Evelyn, oblivious to the intensity of Edward's focus on his neck, followed the train of thought. Prove it? Did he really have to?

His eyes darted across Edward's strikingly handsome face and his chiseled frame. That tension in his trousers…

Whoa, was it even possible?

In a moment of reckless contemplation, he leaned back, flopping onto the plush covers. He stretched out his arms, inviting, as if trying to reel Edward in.

Caught off guard, Edward blinked, a mix of surprise and something darker flashing across his features.

Evelyn gave him a playful smile, “Come on, what else could I do?”

“….”

For the third time that day, silence filled the expansive bed.

Evelyn lay there, the deep blue comforter contrasting with the stark white of his skin. His cheeks warmed, a shy smile revealing two small canines. The dark depths of his eyes sparkled, almost jewel-like.

He exuded an aura of innocence, yet the invitation he had just made was anything but pure.

The image had shifted from that of the cold, calculating character he was meant to portray to someone entirely different—someone vibrant and alive.

Edward’s gaze was intense, turbulent.

Evelyn chuckled softly to himself, basking in the odd but charged energy of the moment. If only Edward would just make a move. As if sensing his impatience, a hand suddenly clasped around his chin.

Edward leaned down, his tone dangerously measured, “Let’s see just how much you’ve got left to offer…”

Snap.

Chapter 3

Evelyn Taylor shifted beneath him, arching her back and adopting a more enticing pose. “I don’t know about this little surprise you have for me,” she said, her voice playful yet laced with challenge.

Edward Brown's mouth fell slightly open, caught off guard.

His hand, still gripping her chin, kept her gaze locked on him. The pad of his thumb brushed over her smooth skin, and she felt a faint flicker of movement in his touch.

He was pensive—revealing his inclination for role play. How intriguing; she found herself liking it too.

Five or six seconds ticked by in stony silence.

“Can we move on to the next step?” she asked gently, urging him forward.

The grip on her chin loosened as he sat upright. Rubbing his temples, he took a deep breath, as if trying to gather his thoughts. “You—never mind, just go home.”

Evelyn flipped over again to face him, the sudden movement letting sarcasm drip from her voice, “Don’t you need to prove something?”

“No need,” he said stiffly.

What was going on? Moments ago, everything had seemed fine.

She hesitated, raising an eyebrow, “... are you perhaps not able to?”

In the novel’s world, Edward Brown was devoid of emotional connections. After marrying Amelia Howard, he relegated her to a guest room and dove headfirst into work—neglecting her entirely. That neglect had allowed Amelia to slip through the cracks and play her games behind the scenes.

What a bloody mess.

“Amelia Howard,” Edward’s voice darkened, laced with irritation.

So he couldn’t reciprocate the playful tension; typical, she thought.

Evelyn quickly smoothed over his ruffled feathers. “I don’t either. It’s not a big deal.”

Edward shut his eyes, clearly not keen on sinking into this kind of mess.

Evelyn swung her legs over the side of the bed, gliding past him toward the door. “If you’re not ready, I won’t force you. I’ll just find somewhere else to sleep.” Her words dripped with maturity and consideration, almost noble, like a devoted wife handling a delicate situation.

A bit too noble, she mused.

A vein throbbed in Edward's temple, and he couldn't help but call out, “Come back.”

She halted.

He turned, a chilling smile curving on his lips. “I’m not ready,” he continued before she could respond. “Fine, you can sleep here tonight.”

He nearly forgot—now wasn’t the time to sever ties with the Howard family.

Internally, Edward chuckled at the irony: it was supposed to be their “wedding night,” and a couple was expected to share a bed. Since the Howards were putting on a show, he might as well play along.

Evelyn bounced back onto the bed, testing the soft comfort beneath her. This mattress was divine; if she had her way, she wouldn’t shift an inch.

As she bounced playfully, she asked, “What about you?”

A faint, mischievous smile tugged at the corners of Edward’s lips. “I’ll be sleeping here too.” He strode over to the bedside and flicked the switch, plunging the room into a twilight ambiance lit only by a small lamp.

The dim light shaped his figure, illuminating a lean frame that was deceptively muscular beneath his crisp white shirt. The fabric clung to his back, the shadows creating an enticing play of light against his collar and waist.

When Edward turned to look at her, the warm glow caught the sharp angles of his face, shadowing his brow in an almost brooding depth.

Evelyn swallowed hard, her heart racing at the sight.

“Ha…” he laughed coldly, a response to her earlier challenge. “We’re sharing a bed. Don’t get so anxious you can’t sleep.”

The tension thickened in the air as he retreated to the bathroom.

After a quick wash-up in the next room, Evelyn returned to find Edward still in the shower, the sound of water splattering echoing through the door. Through the frosted glass, she could make out his tall silhouette moving just out of sight.

She lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind churning with thoughts.

Her current situation felt precarious. She wasn’t a Howard or a Brown, firmly caught in the crossfire of the two families.

Amelia Howard was the adopted daughter of the Howards, brought into their fold two decades ago based on some so-called prophecy about her “bringing fortune.” After twenty years, they had deemed it the right time to use her as a pawn in their games.

Then, Edward Brown rocketed to fame in the business world, and the Howards knew their opportunity had come.

They sent Amelia to destroy the Browns, effectively sidelining Edward. After the Brown family’s downfall, he had found himself embroiled in a tragic car accident orchestrated by the Howards, while Amelia was tossed aside like a used tool, disappearing from the narrative long before her time.

To soften the blow for readers, the author had added an elaborate mental monologue for Amelia before her demise—something to make her sacrifices seem noble and justified.

But Evelyn couldn’t help but choke back her horror at that narrative.

This was one twisted game among nature's predators, crafted with the dexterous hands of manipulation.

“Vroom vroom…”

The sudden buzz of her phone pulled her from her reverie.

She reached for it, shaking off cobwebs of thought, to find a message from a familiar name: **Oliver Howard**.

Oh, here comes the mastermind of manipulation.

Oliver Howard was the eldest son of the Howard family and the architect behind Amelia’s placement within the Browns. He had made a career out of wielding power over others in the darkest of ways.

Over the years, they had used Amelia like a puppet, calling it “nurturing,” when it was nothing more than constrained obedience.

The one calling the shots? Oliver, with his psych degree and his puppeteering prowess.

Evelyn’s heart dropped at the implications; a cold shudder ran through her as she made an adjustment to her contacts, renaming Oliver's entry to **Master Manipulator** before opening the unwelcome text.

Chapter 4

"Are you asleep yet?" Percival Masterson's message buzzed through the stillness of the night.

Evelyn Taylor paused, staring at her phone. The clock read nearly midnight, and she had a feeling that Oliver Howard wasn’t genuinely concerned about her sleep schedule. More likely, he was checking if she’d fallen asleep next to Edward Brown.

She lazily twitched her fingers over the screen, a small smile creeping onto her lips.

"Yeah."

There was a brief silence on the other end before he replied.

"So soon?"

His tone was laced with disbelief—as if he couldn’t fathom that Edward Brown had any sort of hold on her.

Evelyn stifled a laugh, her fingers flying across the screen. Just as she was about to hit send, the bathroom door swung open. A steamy cloud infused with the scent of lavender filled the space, and she looked up to see Edward stepping out.

He was wrapped in a plush bathrobe, steam radiating off him, his damp hair sticking to his forehead. As he strolled across the carpet, he left behind a trail of water droplets. When he reached the edge of the bed, he leaned in, his dark eyes narrowing. “Who are you texting?”

Evelyn’s phone buzzed again, the Messenger app still bright on the screen.

“My brother.”

He scrutinized her with a look that could cut glass. “So late, what’s he asking about?”

“He can’t sleep. He misses me.”

“...What?”

Edward’s voice shifted, a curious edge creeping in that hinted at something deeper.

Evelyn handed him her phone. “See for yourself.”

He lowered his gaze, the glowing screen casting shadows under his brow.

After a moment, he scanned the short exchange, his expression shifting as he studied the remarks.

"Percival Masterson: Are you asleep yet?

Evelyn Taylor: Yeah.

Percival Masterson: So soon?"

His brow furrowed as he stated the obvious, “What’s the significance of this ‘first time’?”

“First time getting married,” she replied casually. “It’s exhausting.”

Edward blinked, a hint of surprise tinting his voice. “You’re just tired from the wedding?”

Evelyn shrugged her shoulders, reclaiming her phone to send her draft. Before she could send it, Edward’s voice rumbled again, “Percival Masterson?”

She giggled, “Just a nickname between siblings.”

Edward scoffed lightly. “Oh really? Brotherly affection at its finest.”

There was a certain absurdity to the exchange—her brother texting late at night, checking in on her after her wedding, while she casually referred to him as Percival.

For a fleeting moment, Edward mocked himself inwardly, his thoughts disorienting.

In his past life, he had been blind to this play between them—this seemingly fragile dynamic. But now, looking at Evelyn—something had indeed shifted.

“Did you want to sleep?” he asked, climbing onto the bed after drying his hair.

The only light in the room besides the bedside lamp was her phone's white glow, illuminating her face, her eyes glimmering with mischief as she played a racing game. One leg dangled off the bed, pant legs rolled up to expose a hint of calf.

“Hey,” he said, trying to catch her attention. “Could you move over a bit?”

Evelyn glanced over, sticking to her side of the bed. “Can’t fit over there.”

“I don’t share my bed,” he stated, a chill in his tone.

She arched an eyebrow, putting her phone down, “You were the one who mentioned sleeping together, and now you’re the one who wants distance?”

He sighed, “Are you playing hard to get?”

“Really?” she shot back, “You think I’m the one leading this dance?”

The amusement sparked in him as he shifted closer, the bed dipping under his weight. He supported himself with one arm next to her, the shift unsettling—his presence too close for comfort.

“What are you doing?” Evelyn asked, her breath catching.

“Just showing you who started this,” he replied, his voice low and teasing, “You’re the one scared of this.”

“Can you blame me?” she shot back.

Just how much danger was buried beneath their banter?

“Just how close do you want to get?” he challenged, feigning innocence.

His lips curved upward, breaking into a smirk that held a hint of menace. The subtle shadows of his face sharpened against the light, drawing her gaze.

Evelyn’s heart raced. Was he really pushing this far? It felt like he was concealing something fierce beneath that robe.

“Enough,” she said, looking away from him, resisting the urge to let her thoughts run wild.

He caught her glance. “Seen enough?”

Evelyn steered her focus away, suddenly eager to tone down the flirtation. “It’s pretty late. Let’s sleep. I’ll let you off easy tonight.”

She shoved her pillow a little farther away, making herself comfortable beneath the covers, her heart still pounding from the tension in the air.

Chapter 5

Edward Brown scoffed quietly, "Give me a break."

Evelyn Taylor had already closed her eyes, murmuring, "Goodnight, Lucinda Ravenshire."

…

As their distance grew, Edward Brown finally lay down beside her.

With a flick, the bedside lamp turned off, and the room slipped into darkness.

Wrapped in the silky softness of the sheets, Evelyn Taylor was soon enveloped by a deep fatigue from her late-night reading, slipping rapidly into sleep.

Time drifted unmeasured as she turned restlessly. A dull thud echoed softly—she seemed to have kicked something warm.

After a moment, her knee lifted again, colliding with… something else.

On the third kick, a strong hand clamped down on her knee. Before that hand could push her away, Evelyn, half-lost between dreams and consciousness, burrowed deeper into her pillow and instinctively pulled the warm figure beside her closer.

The room stilled.

A cold draft coursed under the sheets just as another hand closed around her neck.

“Amelia Howard…”

Evelyn furrowed her brow in confusion, swatting the hand away, and without hesitation, tucked it back into the blanket.

“What’s with the hands-on approach? It’s bedtime.”

“…”

Moments later, a hand pushed her away.

With a soft thud, Evelyn rolled over, and for the rest of the night, there was no more movement.

·

Morning came too soon, barely past eight.

Evelyn awakened, sprawled on her stomach, the other side of the bed already empty. She heard sounds from the bathroom and pushed the door open, directly confronting Edward Brown, toothbrush in mouth.

“Morning,” she greeted cheerfully.

Edward glanced at her through the mirror, his expression not exactly welcoming.

“Didn’t sleep well,” Evelyn said, keeping her voice light.

His mouth curled a bit, foam spilling slightly as he appeared to snicker.

Evelyn felt well-rested. A good night’s sleep always lifted her mood, and leaning against the doorframe with a beaming smile, she quipped, “You weren’t too nervous to sleep, were you?”

Edward, rinsing his mouth, wiped his face and deadpanned, “Yesterday was an exception. Starting today, you’re moving to the guest room.”

“Oh, okay,” she replied easily.

She spun on her heel to get ready in the adjoining bathroom before joining Edward downstairs for breakfast.

The dining table was grand, capable of seating twelve, while their butler, Frederick Foster, and two maids stood by, ready.

Edward took the head of the table, and Evelyn squeezed into the seat beside him. “I’ll skip sitting across from you. Talking like that is just too much for my throat.”

Edward's voice was disinterested. “I don’t talk while I eat.”

“Lucky for you,” Evelyn replied innocently, “I do.”

So, it was also her voice that strained.

“…Do as you wish.”

Breakfast was quickly consumed, and as Edward stood to leave, he suddenly turned to Evelyn. “You’re coming with me to the office.”

Caught mid-sip, Evelyn set her milk down and licked the remnants of foam off her lips. “What am I even going for?”

Edward didn’t reply, his eyes gleaming with intent.

What was she for? To keep an eye on things.

He wouldn’t make the mistakes he made before; this time, he would keep her close.

Frederick, attempting to ease the mood, chimed in, “Newlyweds, right? So in love…”

“Frederick,” Edward’s cold voice sliced through the air, silencing him immediately.

Evelyn wiped her mouth and stood up, following Edward out. “All right, let’s go.”

Frederick led the way.

As they exited the dining room, a spacious living area unfolded, one side dominated by a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows streaming the soft glow of morning sunlight into the room.

Outside the front door stood a young man in his mid-twenties, unassuming yet solid in appearance—Edward’s loyal confidant, Fletcher Wood.

Frederick paused at the entrance. “Have a good day, sir.”

Then, turning to Evelyn, he added with a grin, “Safe travels, Master Lucas Howard.”

Evelyn halted, raising an eyebrow. “Frederick, let’s switch that up, shall we?”

Edward turned his head, a smirk hinting at his lips, tinged with mockery. “What should I call you then? Mrs. Lu?”

She shot him a coy glance. “Let’s save that for later. It’s all too fresh; it feels a bit cheesy.”

Edward blinked, speechless.

Frederick, still pondering, suggested, “How about Mr. Edward?”

Evelyn pressed her lips together. “Let’s not go all Edward this and Edward that. It feels jinxed." A pause, then she added, "Especially when it’s said too fast,” as if uttering a curse.

An awkward silence fell around the three of them.

It was probably the first time anyone had heard the family name being thrown under the bus.

“Seems like the Howard family treats you well,” Edward said bluntly.

“Better than most, definitely,” Evelyn answered, thinking of her brother.

The name Percival Masterson unexpectedly flashed in Edward’s mind—a reminder.

“…”

Frederick was still caught up on the name issue. “Oh, uh—”

Evelyn, slipping on her shoes, stood up facing the vibrant lawn framed by the large windows. The soft summer light bathed the greenery, rich and alive.

“Just call me Evelyn,” she concluded.

Evelyn Taylor.

No matter where she found herself, no matter the world, she would always be Evelyn Taylor.

Frederick breathed a sigh of relief, casting a light smile. “Very well, Master Evelyn.”

Edward halted in his tracks, briefly glancing back to the entryway.

Evelyn stood there, drinking in the vitality of the garden, her eyes reflecting the brightness of the morning sunlight, alive and radiant, more exuberant than the lush growth outside.

Catching Edward's gaze, she turned to him and gave a bright smile. Her dark eyes shimmered with the morning light, as rare and precious as gemstones.

Edward stared for a moment, and then, shaking himself out of it, started walking again.

Fletcher Wood fell in step beside him, speaking in hushed tones. “Sir, Samuel from the Mason Family is coming by today.”

Edward paused, but the shift was subtle enough that Fletcher didn’t notice.

He lowered his gaze, concealing his expression. “He’s likely here to discuss the Eastport project. Prep what we need.”

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