My Vampire Beloved Husband
Chapter 67: Silent Secrets

Chapter 67: Silent Secrets

Naomi’s body slowly began to calm as her breath steadied. She had been caught off guard, overwhelmed by the unexpected intrusion.

She hadn’t even noticed when he had arrived. In fact, she should have heard the slightest noise, but all she could hear was the pounding of her own heartbeat, loud and insistent in her ears. She had expected to hear footsteps at the very least, but there had been nothing—he had simply appeared out of nowhere. The shock of it hit her like a sudden wave, leaving her speechless. Still, she couldn’t comprehend how he had moved so silently, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of it. How had he slipped into the room without making a sound?

She tried to steady her thoughts, but the confusion left her in disbelief. It wasn’t just his sudden appearance—it was the way he seemed to possess an almost supernatural calmness, as if he belonged here. Naomi couldn’t help but wonder how someone so composed could enter a room without leaving a trace of their presence.

It wasn’t until she noticed the slight shift in his posture that Naomi realized he was waiting for her to react. She quickly forced herself to focus on him, noticing the calmness that had returned to his eyes. His expression softened, the tension in the air seeming to ease just slightly. Naomi’s racing heart began to slow, but it was hard to shake the feeling that she was in a presence far beyond her comprehension.

"I’m sorry for startling you," he said, his voice warm yet steady, carrying a hint of understanding. His words were kind, but they held an air of authority that Naomi couldn’t ignore.

Before she could respond, Naomi found herself cutting him off. "It’s fine," she murmured, her voice small and filled with self-reproach. "I acted rashly by going to places I wasn’t supposed to." She lowered her head, her gaze falling to the floor, the image of a child caught in the act of wrongdoing. It felt so familiar—this sinking feeling of making a mistake.

She couldn’t help but feel like a fool. Naomi couldn’t believe that she had let her curiosity push her into doing something so impulsive. The embarrassment was almost too much to bear. God, how would she ever face him again after this? But then, his words took her by surprise.

"You don’t have to worry, Mrs. Naomi," he said softly. "We all make mistakes. I understand your curiosity. I would have done the same if I were in your shoes." His voice was calm, sincere, and it wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. Naomi hesitated for a moment, lifting her head slowly, the weight of his words sinking in.

She wasn’t being judged. That alone was something she wasn’t used to. Back home, if something like this had happened, she was sure she would have been mocked and belittled. People would have found a way to tear her down, reminding her of her mistakes time and time again. It would have made her feel worthless. But these words, kind and understanding, caught her off guard. They made her feel... almost human. It was shocking to experience such kindness after everything.

She lifted her head fully now, her gaze meeting his. For the first time since they had met, Naomi felt a weight lift off her shoulders. He wasn’t judging her. In fact, he was reassuring her in a way that made her feel more at ease than she had in a long time.

"You don’t have to worry," he added, his tone gentle yet firm. "If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask."

Naomi nodded, her mind still processing this unexpected kindness. It was hard to believe that someone—especially a man like him—could be so considerate. It felt foreign to her, but she found herself warmed by his words. He was offering her comfort in a way she hadn’t felt before.

"Are you my husband’s bodyguard?" she asked before she could stop herself. The question felt almost too direct, but it was out now.

Rylan nearly laughed at the thought. It was clear he had never been mistaken for a bodyguard before. While he did serve as Zylan’s personal assistant, the term "bodyguard" was too far from the truth. Zylan didn’t need anyone to protect him. He was more powerful than Rylan could ever hope to be. The very idea made him chuckle nervously, imagining how Zylan would react if he heard his wife referring to him that way.

"No," Rylan said with a small, nervous laugh, shaking his head. "I’m more like his assistant," he explained with a slight grin. It felt strange to correct her like this, but he was glad that the misunderstanding could be gently resolved without any of Zylan’s cold glares or reprimands.

Naomi nodded, trying to process the new information. She had assumed so much already about him and his role, but now that she understood better, she felt a little more at ease. A moment of silence passed before Rylan spoke again.

"Why don’t we go outside?" he suggested, his voice light and inviting. "I could show you some of Mr. Zylan’s favorite flowers."

Naomi nearly choked on her saliva. Zylan? Flowers? She hadn’t pictured him as someone who would be interested in something as delicate as flowers. How was that even possible? He was a man who was constantly surrounded by power, danger, and secrets. How could he possibly have a favorite flower?

"Really?" Naomi asked, her voice a mixture of disbelief and curiosity. It was clear she didn’t quite know how to process this new piece of information. Zylan, a man of such complexity and power, liking flowers? She couldn’t help but wonder what kind of flowers someone like him could possibly appreciate.

Naomi began to walk down the stairs, but the thought of Zylan’s hidden interests kept swirling in her mind. She felt a deep flush rise in her cheeks as she realized how curious she was becoming about him. Maybe this was the beginning of understanding him—or at least trying to.

As she stepped outside, Naomi felt the warm afternoon sun filtering through the trees, casting long shadows and a golden hue across the mansion grounds. The modern, extravagant mansion stood behind her, its sleek glass windows reflecting the sunlight like a mirror. It was a mansion built with luxury and grandeur, and yet, in that moment, Naomi felt oddly out of place here. The soft breeze tugged at her golden hair, sending it flowing behind her like a shimmering ribbon. The sunlight seemed to accentuate the beauty of her hair, making it glow as if she were part of the very world around her.

"I had no idea my husband was into flowers," Naomi said, almost sheepishly. Her cheeks were still pink from the embarrassment of the earlier conversation, but she was starting to feel more comfortable, like she could actually have a normal conversation here without fear.

Rylan chuckled softly, the sound warm and gentle. "He isn’t really into flowers," he said, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "He just likes a particular one, which he looks at from time to time. Though he’s never said it outright, I’ve concluded that it’s his favorite. He’s not someone who gets interested in things easily."

Naomi nodded thoughtfully, her mind still racing with questions. She was beginning to think there was so much more to Zylan than she had ever imagined. She laughed softly to herself as a memory resurfaced. "You just reminded me of my friend Rose. She always assumes things I like are my favorites, even if I don’t say it. She’s always trying to figure me out," Naomi said, giggling softly, unaware of the shift in Rylan’s expression.

The brief mention of Rose made Rylan’s face tighten ever so slightly, his expression unreadable. He knew exactly who Rose was, and the memory of her name caused a fleeting moment of tension to build in his chest. But Naomi was still oblivious to the effect her words had on him.

****

Meanwhile, inside the mansion of a certain place, Zylan sat in a spacious room. His legs were crossed with an air of casual authority, his posture commanding yet relaxed. The room around him was furnished with dark, luxurious materials—sleek leather chairs and polished wood surfaces, all bathed in the soft glow of ambient lighting. The modern elegance of the room contrasted with the tense atmosphere that hung in the air.

Across from him sat the vampire lady. Her presence was striking, her movements graceful, but there was something about her that spoke of far more experience than her youthful appearance suggested. She exuded an aura of mystery, and though she seemed to be in her early twenties, there was a weight to her that made her seem older. The room, despite its beauty, felt heavy with a silence that was more suffocating than peaceful.

"This shouldn’t be happening unless something triggered it," her soft voice echoed through the silence, smooth and soothing, yet unnervingly cold. Her tone had a quality that could make any man fall to his knees, yet Zylan remained unfazed. His cold, uninterested gaze never left her, his eyes boring into her with an intensity that made her feel exposed.

"Go on," he said, his voice low, almost impatient, urging her to continue.

She stood, her movements fluid and controlled, walking with purpose toward a transparent glass drawer. She opened it with a delicate touch, her fingers brushing over several objects inside before selecting a small, black bottle. It gleamed faintly in the low light, a sharp contrast to the surrounding darkness. She approached Zylan, handing him the bottle with a certain elegance.

After the death of Zylan’s ex-wife, Noelle, he had been cursed. One side of his hair was a deep, inky black—his natural color—while the other had been permanently stained golden blonde. It was a constant reminder of the forbidden act he had committed, a curse he could never escape.

"This will change it, temporarily," the lady explained, her voice steady despite the heavy tension in the air.

Zylan’s eyes narrowed as he studied the bottle, his expression unreadable. "How can I change it permanently?" His voice was cold, chilling in a way that made the Leek-vampire shiver, despite the confidence she usually held. She had powers no one could rival, yet in his presence, she felt a deep, unsettling force. It wasn’t in his actions—it was in his aura. His power was unmistakably dangerous.

The lady sighed, knowing that what she was about to say was impossible. "It can be changed permanently, but only if..." She paused, her gaze lingering on him, aware that her next words would either be met with disbelief or fury.

Zylan’s eyes remained fixed on her, waiting.

"If only you could break the curse."