Chapter 24 #3
Silas’s arm remained steady around my waist, his chest warm against my back, his breathing calm and even whilst mine refused to settle. As much as I disliked him, I couldn’t blame him for this. He had simply shown me the truth and let it destroy me all on its own.
Eventually, his hand slipped away from mine, and the cursor stopped moving across the screen.
I stared blankly at the contract for another few seconds before finally whispering, “You could have lied.”
The mask tilted slightly.
“You could have edited videos. Faked contracts. Manipulated all of this somehow.” My throat tightened painfully. “But you didn’t.”
Silence answered me.
Slowly, carefully, Silas stepped back from the desk. The sudden absence of his warmth sent a chill across my skin almost immediately, which was horrifying enough on its own. Before I could spiral over that too, his gloved hand gently closed around my elbow.
A silent request.
I let him pull me to my feet.
My legs felt unsteady beneath me, my body heavy with exhaustion and shock as he guided me back across the hidden room. I barely looked at the walls this time. Barely noticed the photographs or the endless evidence of obsession surrounding me.
The hidden door slid shut behind us with a soft mechanical sound, sealing the room away once more.
I tried to pull away, to get some space, to go over to my bed and mull over what I had seen. But Silas’s hand tightened on me, and when I looked at him, he shook his head slowly.
This time it was my turn to cock my head in confusion, and I swear I heard a laugh from beneath that silver mask.
He kept hold of my elbow as he led me from the basement, his pace slow enough for me to keep up without stumbling. It was only halfway up the stairs that I realised this was the first time I had left the basement since waking up down there.
The thought should have made me feel relieved.
Instead, I just felt numb.
The manor upstairs was almost painfully normal compared to what lay beneath it. Warm lighting glowed softly against dark walls and polished floors. Expensive paintings hung throughout the corridors, the house decorated beautifully in a way that reminded me far too much of my own home.
As we walked, I noticed people occasionally appearing in the distance. Staff, guards, servants. Every single one immediately lowered their gaze the second they saw Silas approaching.
Nobody spoke to him.
Nobody acknowledged me.
The silence followed us through the manor, and I couldn’t help but wonder how long Silas had lived this way. It was no wonder he didn’t speak, when silence was clearly weaponised here.
I found myself watching Silas as we walked. The way he moved through the halls with absolute certainty. The way people shifted out of his path instinctively. The way fear seemed to cling to him so naturally that nobody dared challenge his presence.
And yet his hand remained steady against my arm the entire time, grounding me each time my thoughts threatened to spiral again.
Eventually, he stopped outside a large wooden door near the far end of the corridor.
For a second, neither of us moved. And then, without a word, he pushed open the door, and my breath caught in my throat.
The room inside was beautiful.
Soft cream walls, the smell of paint still lingering faintly in the air.
A huge bed covered in fluffy blankets. The bed was so large, it could have easily slept four of me.
Tall windows draped with dark curtains, shielding out the light.
I was grateful for that, because my eyes were struggling to adjust to natural lighting, having spent God knows how long underground.
Shelves lined the walls, already filled with books and pictures.
I should have been more concerned that those framed pictures were the same ones I had in my room at home.
But I wasn’t. For whatever reason, I really wasn’t.
Fresh flowers sat in a vase near the fireplace, and clothes were folded neatly across the end of the bed.
Though it was obvious this was a freshly furnished room—as evident by the paint smell still lingering—it was also painfully obvious that this hadn’t been rushed and thrown together at the last minute. Each item had been meticulously chosen with me in mind. It was intimate.
Silas gave a gentle tug of my elbow, pulling me further into the room, and then dropped my arm completely, allowing me to inspect in my own time.
I walked over to the bed, running my fingers along the insanely soft quilts, noting that Silas remained standing in the doorway behind me.
It was then I noticed a small digital clock on the bedside table, with a built-in calendar.
He was giving me back time.
He was offering me freedom.
And yet, it was clear he planned for me to be here. For me to stay here.
When I finally turned back toward him, the silver mask was already watching me. I suspected it had never stopped.
And then, after one final lingering glance, Silas stepped backwards and quietly closed the door behind him, leaving me alone in the first room that had felt remotely safe in a very long time.