Chapter 5

MINE

The booming sound of the grandfather clock in the corridor echoed across the huge manor as midnight approached. I lay wide awake in bed, feeling as though my head was spinning with ideas and emotions. Instead of being comforting, the silk sheets now felt suffocating against my skin. The memory of dinner lingered in my mind, with the tension, loaded looks, and barely veiled threats hidden beneath polite conversation. It replayed in my thoughts, each iteration deepening the pit of fear in my stomach.

I turned onto my side and looked at the elaborate vanity across the room. In the low moonlight streaming through the heavy draperies, I could just see my reflection — a pallid ghost with wide, troubled eyes. Looking back at me, I hardly recognized myself. Was I the cleaned-up daughter of a criminal lord? The future bride of an even more dangerous man?

Muttering "Screw this," I slung my legs over the side of the bed. As I padded across the room in near-darkness, fumbling for my bathrobe, the soft carpet muffled my feet. I shrugged it on over my silk pajamas, feeling the cool air shiver up my bare legs and spine. Perhaps it wasn't just the cold causing shivers.

I slid to the door, pressing my ear against the smooth wood. The kind of silence that screamed secrets and peril. Turning the doorknob, my hand shook, and I winced at the barely audible click as it opened.

The corridor opened out before me like a vast black tunnel lined with antiques and valuable artwork. Dad referred to family heirloom items. I knew better now. Every piece most likely had a bloody past and was paid for with life rather than money. I moved discreetly. Years of sneaking out to parties had finally had a purpose. My heart hammered so fiercely that I knew the entire house would wake from it.

Doubt tore at me when I got to the secret passage's hidden door. Was I really doing this? This was insane. Should I be discovered, I had no idea about the fallout. But something kept me moving ahead. Was it an inquiry? A terrible sense of obligation? Perhaps also the great need to comprehend the world I was married into.

My fingertips discovered the secret clasp, cool metal against my damp flesh. "Am I really doing this?" My voice was just a breath in the stillness as I whispered to myself. I paused, poised on the brink of a choice that might decide everything.

I took a deep breath and pushed. The panel groaned softly as it slid open to reveal the dark secret passageway. I immediately smelled the musty scent — a mix of ancient wood, dust, and long-buried secrets. It was a stark contrast to the floral perfume I was wearing, which reminded me of the two worlds I was straddling.

My heart raced as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I made out a familiar silhouette.

"Ava!" I hissed, a mix of irritation and relief in my voice. "What are you doing here?"

My sister turned, her eyes wide with a mix of exhilaration and anxiety that I knew all too well. I could see the mischievous sparkle in her eye even in the low light — the same one that had gotten us into trouble more times than I could count.

"Same as you, I guess," she said, with a slight smile on her lips. "Couldn't sleep; couldn't stop thinking about everything."

I approached, steadying my quivering hand on the cool stone wall. Up close, I could see Ava's tense posture and her fingers slightly shaking as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Though she tried hard not to show it, she was just as afraid as I was.

I shook my head and mumbled, "This is insane. We shouldn't be here. If Dad discovers-"

Ava interrupted, "But we are here," she said, her voice low but forceful. Something tougher and more determined replaced the mischief in her eyes. "Come on, Kylie. You know you want to know what's going on. We are entitled to know what we are signing into."

Before I could protest much more, muted but definite voices floated through the wall. Ava and I looked at each other, a quiet conversation flowing between us in a heartbeat. Then, one at a time, we stared down the peepholes.

Before us spread the lounge, glowing warmly from the fireplace. Shadow and light moved across the men assembled there, transforming familiar features into hideous masks. My nose wrinkled at the aroma of aged whiskey and expensive cigars coming through the wall.

Lysander sat in his regular chair, one hand loosely holding a tumbler of amber liquid. With a comfortable but vigilant stance, like a predator at rest, he looked every inch the master of his territory. His face's angular planes were captured by the firelight, creating dark shadows that gave him an older, tougher look.

"What is happening?" I struggled to catch every detail, my lips hardly moving as I inhaled.

Ava answered with an equally gentle tone. "Lysander and his soldiers are here right now. Everyone else departed following... you know."

I knew, but the memory of raised voices, broken glass, and the distinct sound of a gun being cocked rushed back. I pushed back a shiver.

Lysander's voice, icy and forceful, cut into my thoughts. "Gentlemen, we have to talk about tonight's events."

The room's tension turned up a degree. I watched Dorian curled on the sofa, a smile flickering on his lips as he spun his empty glass with soft ice clinking. "Oh, come on, Lysander," he said, his voice gentle but his eyes piercing. "It wasn't entirely terrible. The cuisine was first-rate; the beverages were flowing; the company" I knew he was thinking about me when his eyes strayed to the door. "Well, let's say your fiancée is rather a vision."

My cheeks burned. How dare he!