The first notes crept in just as Aria was drifting to sleep.

She bolted upright, sheets twisting around her legs. The melody was faint but unmistakable. It was Debussy's "Clair de Lune," the same piece Evelyn used to play when they were children. Moonlight streamed through the balcony doors as Aria swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her bare feet recoiling from the icy marble.

The study door creaked when she pushed it open. Aria hadn't planned to snoop, but sleep had become impossible after hearing the piano. Moonlight filtered through the tall windows, illuminating the dust motes swirling around Damon's massive mahogany desk. The bottom drawer resisted at first, then gave way with a reluctant scrape.

Inside, nestled between a dried gardenia and a monogrammed cigar case, the photograph lay face down. Aria's breath caught when she turned it over. Evelyn stood on the deck of a yacht, her red dress whipping in the wind, one hand tangled in Damon's hair as he kissed her neck. They looked drunk on each other. Happy.

The door hinges groaned.

Aria barely had time to register Damon's silhouette before the photo was ripped from her hands.

"That drawer was locked for a reason." His voice was dangerously calm.

She watched his throat work as he tucked the frame into his inner pocket. The way his fingers lingered over the spot where Evelyn's face had been.

"Was that the last time you saw her?" Aria asked.

Damon's jaw tightened. "Go to bed, Aria."

She walked slowly out of the study. A lot of questions were on her mind and she will find the answers.

….

"Tea for you, Miss Evelyn"

The cup rattled against its saucer as Katerina caught herself. Aria watched the maid's knuckles whiten around the tray.

The correction came too quickly. "Miss Aria. Forgive me."

Aria lifted the cup slowly, watching the liquid tremble. "How long did you work for my sister?"

Katerina's gaze darted to the security camera in the corner. "I….I should check on the.."

"Do I look like her?" Aria interrupted.

The maid's throat moved as she swallowed. In the silence, a drop of tea splashed onto the tablecloth, blooming like a bloodstain.

“I'm so…sorry..ma'am”, Katerina stammered as she bent over to clean the stain.

…

Aria's finger slipped on middle C note of the keyboard, the sound too loud in the cavernous music room. The echo bounced off the vaulted ceilings, dying somewhere near the grand windows where Damon Vasilis stood, silhouetted against the moonlight. He didn't turn. Didn't react. Just watched the grounds below as if she hadn't made a sound.

"Again."

His voice carried across the room without raising. Aria flexed her fingers, the unfamiliar stretch of tendons protesting. The sheet music blurred before her eyes, Chopin's Prelude in E Minor, the notes swimming like black insects on the page.

Her second attempt fared no better.

"Wrists higher."

The cold tip of Damon's walking stick pressed between her shoulder blades, forcing her spine straight. Aria sucked in a breath through her nose, leather and cedar and something faintly metallic. The stick withdrew, but the phantom pressure remained.

Blood bloomed on her index finger when her nail caught the ivory edge. She wiped it quickly on the black silk of her dress, the stain disappearing into the fabric. The next chord came out mangled, her injured finger stumbling.

Suddenly, Damon was there.

His hands covered hers on the keys, shoving her aside without ceremony. The same melody poured from his fingers, alive now, dangerous, the notes sharp as knives. Aria watched his wedding band glint under the candelabra's light, the gold worn thin in places.

She reached for a dropped pencil and her elbow knocked the piano bench lid ajar.

Evelyn smiled up at her from a silver frame, frozen mid-laugh at this very piano. The photo disappeared before Aria could react, the bench lid slamming shut under Damon's polished oxford.

The metronome's ticking filled the silence Damon left behind. He wound it too tight, the relentless click-click-click synced with Aria's pulse. Across the room, his fingers drummed against his thigh in perfect time.

The pencil snapped in her grip on the third attempt.

Damon exhaled through his nose, the first crack in his composure. From his breast pocket, he produced a fresh pencil, the cedar scent clinging to his fingers as he placed it on the stand.

One of the candles guttered out during Moonlight Sonata, darkness swallowing half the keyboard. Aria fumbled the next chord. Twice.

Damon moved suddenly, but instead of criticism, there was only the click of his monogrammed lighter, the flame catching in his dark eyes as he relit the wick.

The clock chimed midnight fifteen minutes early.

Aria's hands froze. Damon checked his pocket watch, the frown line between his brows deepening. He said nothing, but his next correction lacked its usual edge.

"Again. From the top."

On the seventh night, something shifted.

The notes flowed without stumbling, her fingers finally finding their place. Behind her, Damon's grip tightened on the piano bench, not in anger, but something that looked like pain.

Aria didn't look up from the keys. "Did Evelyn play this one too?" She asked.

The temperature dropped. Damon's cufflinks clicked against the piano lid as he pushed away.

The door slammed hard enough to make the strings hum.