CHAPTER 10

Secrets Beneath the Surface

Naomi's POV

The mansion's grand halls were eerily silent, except for the soft padding of my bare feet on the marble floors. I'd been wandering for hours, trying to clear my head after the charity event. Camille's harsh words, Roman's unexpected defense, and the overwhelming atmosphere of wealth and power had left me feeling raw and restless.

As I wandered deeper into the mansion, the silence grew thicker, the distant hum of activity fading away. I halted in front of a plain door, inconspicuously nestled in a corner of an otherwise opulent hallway.

The door's simplicity stood out against the surrounding richness, making it seem out of place. It was a smooth surface painted a subdued gray, with no elaborate carvings or gilt knobs. It stood out from the other doors in the mansion, as if the person who created the palace's design had chosen to have this one disappear into the background.

To me, it didn't blend.

I stepped closer, curiosity pulling me in like a magnet. My fingers brushed against the cool metal of the handle, and before I could second-guess myself, I twisted it gently.

Locked.

My brow furrowed. What could Roman possibly need to lock away in a house this big? He had more money than God, a fortress of security, and enough arrogance to think himself untouchable. Yet this unassuming door was locked, hidden in plain sight.

I tried the handle again, tugging a little harder this time, and the sound of the metal rattling against the latch sent a sharp echo down the hallway.

“Naomi.”

The voice was ice sharp, cold, and cutting through the air like a blade.

I whirled around so fast that my heart almost sprang into my throat and I almost fell. Roman's face was as stern and unforgiving as stone as he stood a few feet away.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked slowly, his voice dangerously low.

"I—nothing." I stumbled and stepped back from the door. "I was just taking a look around."

"Looking around," he said, his voice full of disbelief. He moved forward, deliberately and slowly, like a predator closing on its victim. "Do you have a habit of touching objects that are not yours?"

"I wasn't touching anything," I said hastily, the unconvincing lie hanging in the air. "I was just... curious."

"Curiosity." He said, his eyes narrowed as he halted a few steps away, towering over me. "That's risky in this house."

I gulped forcefully as his eyes weighed heavily on me.

“It’s just a door,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt.

“It’s my door,” Roman said, his voice tightening. “And I don’t remember giving you permission to go near it.”

"Permission?" I fired back, my anger erupting. "I don't know I need permission to walk in the hallway in the house where I live in."

As he looked down at me, his jaw tightened, the muscle twitching. You live here, but that doesn’t mean you can do as you like in my home.”

"Your home," I said sourly again. "Of course. How could I forget? This is your castle, and I’m just a prisoner.”

A sardonic, humorless smirk twisted his lips. “If that’s how you see it, then you should know prisoners don’t get to question their captors.”

I scowled at him, hating how easy he could make me feel small, as the words struck me like a slap.

"What's behind the dor?" With a trembling but defiant voice, I asked.

"That is none of your concern," Roman murmured, his voice lowering to a perilous whisper.

"Of course it's my concern!" I lost my temper and snapped. "You expect me to accept everything without question after forcing me into your world and into this arrangement?"

Something I couldn't read flashed in his eyes, perhaps rage, or something darker. "Naomi, you're playing a risky game."

“I’m not playing a game,” I said, my voice trembling with annoyance. “I just want to know the truth. Why is that so much to ask?”

"Because the truth won't change anything," he shouted, his voice piercing the atmosphere like a whip. “All you need to know is that you're here because of a deal.”

His finality chilled me to the bone, but I wasn't ready to give in.

"If you think I'm just going to sit quietly and be your little puppet, you're wrong." With a shaky but determined voice, I said, "I have a right to know what I've been dragged into."

I had to crane my head back to look into Roman's black eyes as he drew closer, his presence looming.

“Let me make this very clear,” he said, his voice deadly calm. "You can't enter that door. You're not going to touch it. You won't near it. Do you get what I'm saying?

"Why?" Despite the knotting of terror in my stomach, I challenged. "What do you fear I'll discover?"

The mask briefly came off, revealing something unvarnished, almost human, in his eyes. However, it vanished as swiftly as it had appeared, to be replaced by the icy, unbreakable exterior he always wore.

“This isn’t a discussion,” he said, his voice hard. “Stay. Away. From. That. Door.”

"What if I don't?" My question was hardly audible above a whisper.

Roman's mouth curled into a smile, but it lacked warmth. "Naomi, don't try me. You won't enjoy the outcome.”

For the first time since our disagreement began, I felt a glimmer of fear not just of him, but of the unknown as the weight of his words hung heavy in the air.

Roman retreated a step while maintaining eye contact with me. "You have a choice," he remarked in a quiet but firm voice. “You have the option of making this arrangement bearable or a living hell. It is up to you.”

His footsteps echoing down the corridor as he turned on his heel and left.

My heart thumping in my chest, I stared at him. A silent question that I can't answer to was the door that loomed behind me. What is Roman hiding l? And why did he want to hide it from me so badly?

I was completely chilled by a single thought that kept repeating in my head as I turned to go.

What would happen if I managed to open the door if Roman was this defensive about it?