Chapter 14
The Flame
When I woke again, I still wasn’t sure how much time had passed.
It could have been hours. It could have been an entire day.
The room never changed enough for me to tell.
The lighting remained dim and steady, the stone walls just as cold and oppressive as before, and the silence stretched on endlessly without interruption.
No birds outside. No traffic. No voices drifting through windows.
Nothing.
Just me, this room with its thick walls, and whatever waited beyond that metal door.
My body still ached, though not quite as viciously as before.
The painkillers were gone from the tray beside the bed, along with most of the soup.
I vaguely remembered forcing myself to eat after Silas left because the dizziness had become unbearable, but after that, everything blurred together again into heavy sleep and fractured nightmares.
Frank’s blood across the dashboard, the silver mask lowering towards me, Luca’s messages—they all blurred together in a kaleidoscope of images, until I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t.
At one point, Luca had been wearing the mask, texting me, telling me he couldn’t keep me safe if I continued to ignore him.
I rolled onto my back with a groan, staring blankly at the ceiling as anger slowly replaced the fear that had consumed me earlier.
This was real.
He had actually taken me.
And somewhere above me, the world was still turning whilst I rotted away underground like some dirty little secret.
I sat up carefully, wincing as stiffness pulled through my ribs.
The engagement dress clung uncomfortably to my skin now, dried blood and dirt stiffening the ruined material.
I smelled awful. My makeup had long since smeared away, leaving dark marks beneath my eyes and dried mascara streaked across my cheeks.
Pathetic.
I dragged my fingers through my tangled hair with a frustrated hiss before forcing myself out of bed again.
This time, my legs held.
Barely.
I limped slowly around the room, taking in every tiny detail I had missed before. The bookshelf had no books. The wardrobe was still shut. There were no visible vents, no visible cameras either, though I knew better than to believe I wasn’t being watched.
The thought made my skin crawl.
“Enjoying the show?” I snapped suddenly, glaring up toward the ceiling.
Silence answered me.
I laughed bitterly under my breath.
Keep it together, Isabelle. You can’t afford to lose your mind now.
The thought grounded me because I was right. I had to keep my wits about me. It would be easy to succumb to panic and madness down here, trapped and alone. I couldn’t let that happen. Not if I wanted to stand a chance of escaping here without the aid of a body bag.
A metallic click echoed through the room again, and my entire body stiffened instantly.
The lock disengaged.
I took two quick steps backwards as the heavy door opened, my pulse hammering painfully against my chest whilst Silas stepped inside once more.
The silver mask immediately found me, looking me up and down, checking over every inch of my body—but not in a leering way.
Though how I could tell that without seeing his face, I wasn’t sure.
But he never lingered on one particular area.
It was as though he were assessing my mood, my physical health, and my wounds, all in one quick look.
He carried another tray in one hand this time, whilst a folded pile of clothes rested over his other arm.
I stared at them in confusion before anger surged straight back to the surface.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Silas crossed the room calmly, completely unaffected by my tone, and placed the tray onto the table beside the bed before setting the clothes down carefully beside it.
My eyes raked over what he had brought—loose joggers, an oversized soft shirt, some fluffy pink socks and underwear.
The sight of them made me want to hurl—or to throw them in his face and tell him to stick them where the sun doesn’t shine. Because clothes meant this wasn’t coming to an end. Clothes meant that he wanted me to be comfortable.
Clothes meant that he planned for me to stay here for as long as he wanted.
“You think I’m changing into those?” I demanded, my voice rising sharply. “You think I’m just going to settle in and make myself comfortable whilst everyone searches for me?”
The mask tilted slightly.
I hated how much that tiny movement unnerved me.
“People are looking for me,” I continued, taking another step towards him despite every instinct screaming at me not to. “My family, the police, Adrien—someone is going to find me, you psychotic fuck!”
Nothing.
Not a single reaction.
The silence only made my anger worse.
“You really are fucking insane,” I spat. “What is this? Some sick fantasy? Keeping me locked underground like an animal?”
Still nothing.
The silver mask remained fixed on me whilst I spiralled in front of him, my chest heaving harder with every passing second.
“Say something!” I shouted suddenly.
The sound bounced harshly around the room.
Silas didn’t even flinch.
That eerie stillness remained completely intact, his arms relaxed loosely by his sides as he simply stood there, taking every ounce of my fury without reacting to any of it.
I hated him for it.
Hated how impossible he was to read.
Hated the way he watched me like he was studying something fascinating instead of listening to a woman whose entire life he had just destroyed.
“You don’t get to do this to me!” I screamed, shoving hard against his chest.
The movement instantly sent pain shooting through my ribs, but adrenaline drowned most of it out.
Silas barely moved.
I shoved him again, harder this time, my hands fisting in the expensive material of his suit jacket.
“You don’t get to just take people!”
Nothing.
No retaliation. Not even a flicker of anger. He didn’t even seem like he was restraining himself. He simply absorbed my outburst.
The lack of reaction only made me more furious.
I hit him then—a proper slap across the side of the mask, the sound cracking loudly through the room. My palm stung instantly, and I had to fight the urge to shake it off.
Silas’s head turned slightly with the impact before slowly returning to face me. My breathing became ragged beneath the weight of that silver stare.
“Fight back!” I shouted desperately. “Yell at me! Threaten me! Do something!”
The mask cocked to the side once more.
Thinking.
Observing.
Learning me whilst I stood there falling apart in front of him.
Tears burned painfully behind my eyes again, humiliating me further.
“I hate you,” I whispered shakily. “Do you understand that? I will never stop hating you.”
For the briefest moment, his gloved hand tightened slightly at his side.
There it was. That tiny movement again. The sign of his displeasure. I saw it clearly this time and recognised it for what it was.
It was a weakness. A chink in his armour. A sign that he wasn’t the statue he portrayed.
A smug sense of satisfaction ran through me, and I filed away that piece of information for later use.
But just as I had been observing him, he had been watching me watch him. And somehow I had the horrible feeling he knew exactly what I'd noticed. He stepped forward suddenly.
It wasn’t quick, nor was it aggressive. But it was movement. Intentional movement and that alone had me instinctively shuffling backwards until the backs of my knees hit the bed.
My pulse stumbled violently.
The silver mask lowered slightly as he looked down at me, close enough now that I could see my own terrified reflection staring back at me from the polished metal.
I stopped breathing.
The room felt impossibly small with him standing this close.
Then, without warning, his gloved hand lifted slowly towards my face, and I flinched hard enough to nearly lose my footing. Something unreadable shifted in the dark hollows behind the mask before his hand lowered again.
He turned towards the table instead, picking up the painkillers from beside the tray before placing them down closer to me.
Another silent instruction.
Eat.
Take the painkillers.
Recover.
“What do you actually want from me?” I whispered.
Silence answered me again.
Silas turned and walked towards the door without another glance back.
And for some reason, that made me even angrier than if he had threatened me at gunpoint.