Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
BAILEY
Every step deeper into the house has my body screaming to run.
These corridors are new to me, but still, familiar smells linger in the air.
Sir’s expensive cologne mixed with a sterile, clean scent that stings my nostrils.
I’ve never quite understood the power of smell to recall memory until recently.
It’s visceral and automatic, bringing those thoughts to the front of my mind even when I try my hardest to push them down.
I need to keep moving, one step in front of the other. I need to be strong—for Leon. For his mom.
We follow him down a long hall full of oil paintings of probably dead men.
All of whom I’d hope didn’t share Alfred’s same fucked up values.
I want to ask about Ms. Harrington. It was rare that I’d go five minutes in the main house without seeing her severe frame haunting the room.
Her absence feels wrong. Either Alfred sent her away before we arrived, or something worse happened to the woman who brushed my hair and tried to teach me table manners while her boss systematically destroyed my soul.
Can’t say I’d mourn her, even if she was most likely manipulated by Alfred too.
“You know, Leon,” Alfred chats as we walk, “I always wondered what it would take to awaken your true nature. Turns out, it just required the right motivation.”
I hate his voice. It makes me sick. That calm, pretentious tone he used when he was teaching me how to be grateful. How to be compliant. How to be perfect for his warped vision of what Leon needed.
Leon’s hand squeezes mine, and I know he’s thinking the same thing I am. This is all wrong, Alfred is literally insane. But we have to play along. We have to get to his mom.
Finally in a dark corner at the very back of the estate we reach a door I’ve definitely never seen before. It looks like it’s made from heavy steel and has a large electronic lock on the outside.
He pulls out a key card from his pocket and faces Leon with a smile I wish I could claw off his face.
“Before we proceed,” he says, “I want to be clear about what you’re agreeing to.
This isn’t just about taking over operations.
It’s about understanding that sometimes we have to make choices that others would consider distasteful. ”
I watch Leon’s face carefully. He’s gotten better at hiding his emotions, but I can see the rage simmering beneath the surface. The muscle in his jaw ticks once, and it’s barely perceptible, but I know him well enough to catch it.
“I understand,” Leon lies smoothly.
“No, Leon! Don’t do this!” I add, trying to make his act more believable. “There’s other ways.”
Alfred’s eyes dart to me, and he smiles like he’s just won a prize.
I guess in his mind, he has. “It’s touching that you’re still holding on to that strong moral compass, Bailey.
Keep that. It’ll be of good use to Leon someday.
” He sounds so condescending, it takes everything in me to keep playing into the act.
“But Leon is finally learning what it means to be a man. Sometimes we have to make sacrifices for the greater good.”
I let my voice crack. “He’s not like you. He’ll never be like you.”
“Doubtful,” he says. “He’s already crossed a bridge he can’t uncross. Killed, tortured, committed arson. Tell her, Leon. Tell her how you’ve changed.”
Leon’s grip on my hand tightens. A silent warning that what he’s about to say will sting.
“He’s right.” His voice is laced with ice. “I’m not the same person I was eighteen months ago.”
When he meets my gaze, I blink up at him. Neither am I.
“Excellent,” Alfred says, scanning his card. The lock disengages with a soft beep. “There will be plenty of time to talk once I retrieve the paperwork. But first, a promise is a promise…”
The heavy door swings open, revealing a narrow staircase that descends into darkness. My stomach lurches, anxiety pulling at my chest, screaming at me to run.
“It looks ominous, I know,” Alfred jokes. “Quite less inviting than the rest of the house. But don’t worry, Bailey. Very few people get taken down here. Only the ones who refuse to comply. You were always my good girl. Not like that friend of yours, Polly.”
An involuntary sound escapes my lips as he speaks Polly’s name. Oh God. She was sent down there. I can’t go. I won’t. I know I shouldn’t reply. I shouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a response but I can’t help it.
“What happened to her down there?”
“She served her purpose, darling. Just as everyone does, eventually. After you,” he says pleasantly, gesturing for us to go first down the staircase.
“You first,” Leon says, giving my knuckle a quick brush with his thumb.
Alfred raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by Leon’s attempt at control. “How gentlemanly. Very well.”
He starts to go down, one step at a time, into the darkness. I don’t want to follow, but I also refuse to leave Leon’s side. So I go next, keeping my hand securely wrapped around his.
The walls somehow feel narrower with each step, or maybe it’s just me, but it’s definitely cooler down here, more damp too.
My breathing becomes shallow as I picture Polly being pulled down these stairs. How scared she must have been. How alone.
Focus on Leon. Focus on getting out of here.
At the bottom of the stairs, Alfred flips a switch and harsh fluorescent lights flicker to life. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust but once they do, I have to clutch Leon’s shoulder to keep my knees from buckling.
A windowless hallway stretches in front of us, lined with two doorways opposite each other. They have similar looking doors as the one leading down here, metal with some kind of locking mechanism. The difference is, these doors have a small round window at eye level.
This place is a prison meant to break people. Polly… I can’t believe she survived this place.
“Here’s where the real work happens,” Alfred says with pride. “Where defiance is corrected.”
Bastard.
I don’t want to walk forward. This is all too much already. Leon’s hand is the only thing keeping me from losing it.
He leads us to the doors. One peek in the window of the first shows an empty cell, thank God. But the small cot, concrete walls, and prison toilet in the corner are bad enough to make me nauseated. Polly was in there. How many other people’s lives has he destroyed?
“Your mother is in here,” Alfred says, stopping at the door on the right and pulling out his key card again.
As the lock beeps to open the door, I catch a glimpse of Leon’s mom through the window. She’s sitting on the edge of the cot, staring at her hands. She looks so small and scared. I know Leon’s holding back a burst of rage from the change in his posture.
“Ada, darling,” he calls through the opening door. “You have visitors.”
Her head snaps up at the sound of her name, her expression going from despondent to relieved as she sees Leon. But then her eyes dart to mine, and her brows furrow.
“Alfred! What did you do? Why am I in here? I want to go home! Leon? Is that you? Who’s with you?” Her voice turns panicked with each word.
I can’t imagine what she must be feeling. There’s relief at seeing Leon, confusion about me. Anger. Fear. Probably a mix of both. I have no idea what’s going through her mind, but I know the panic in her voice too well.
Leon lets go of my hand and cautiously steps into the cell.
Ada practically throws herself into his arms. “I don’t understand what’s happening,” she says against his shoulder.
“Alfred said you were in trouble, that he was helping you. But this place...” She pulls back to look at him, her eyes wide with confusion. “Leon, what is this place?”
“Ask him,” Leon says. He gestures to Alfred, who’s leaning against the doorframe watching this unfold as if it’s some kind of heartwarming family reunion and not a nightmare he orchestrated.
Ada looks at me again, studying my face. I see her mouth open slightly, like she’s about to say something, but then she closes it.
“I still don’t understand,” she says finally, looking between Leon, Alfred, and me. “What’s going on? When I woke up, I was in there… What is this place?”
Leon rolls his lip ring between his teeth, gathering his thoughts. “Mum, it’s time to go. I’ll explain later.”
He holds her under her arm and helps her to the door. She’s clearly disoriented and probably dehydrated. Leon has this look in his eye when he glances my way. I know he’s planning something. I just wish I knew what, so I can help.
“Don’t forget we still have business to discuss upstairs, Leon. The women can wait in the—”
“No,” Leon abruptly cuts him off. “They don’t leave my side.”
Alfred’s expression shifts to show the darker side of him behind the mask he wears for the world. The side of him I’ve seen many times. “I don’t think you’re in a position to make demands, son.”
That’s when Leon moves.
It happens so fast I almost miss it. One moment he’s helping Ada toward the door, the next he’s stepping aside and slamming his shoulder into Alfred. Alfred stumbles backward, caught off guard, and Leon uses the momentum to drive him further into the cell.
There’s a struggle. Alfred shoves Leon hard against the wall, his face contorted with rage. “You ungrateful little bastard!” he sneers, swinging his arms attempting to get a hit in.
But Leon ducks under the punch, like a practiced fighter.
Alfred may be calculating and manipulative, but he’d never win in a show of physical strength, especially not in his condition.
Leon sinks his fist into Alfred’s stomach, forcing him to double over, then brings his knee up to connect with Alfred’s jaw.
My heart pounds as I watch it all unfold. I know Leon’s fine. He has the upper hand, but still, a fight is a fight.