Chapter 24 Eliza
Eliza
The hallway was quiet.
Too quiet.
My hand hovered over the doorknob to Jasper’s office; my pulse hammered behind my ribs. I didn’t even know why I was shaking. I just had to look around. Yes, I was snooping. Yes, I’d stolen a key from one of the maids to get in.
But this was more than guilt. It was instinct. The locket burned against my chest. It was the last place for me to look before I had to leave, and I knew I wouldn’t get another chance.
Something was in there.
Something she wanted me to see.
I pulled the locket away from my chest, afraid it would leave a mark it was so hot. I let out a breath. I was betraying Jasper. If he caught me snooping, I was fucked.
The key slid into the lock with a soft metallic click.
I stepped inside, eager to get out of the hallway’s unprotected view.
The air was cooler, sterile with a hint of leather and wood.
Everything in here was Jasper: dark wood, iron hardware, sharp lines.
No windows. I quickly flicked on the light switch, disappointed when no light came on overhead.
Before the door closed and the light from the hallway disappeared, I ran to the corner and turned on a small table lamp that barely did anything more than cast a deep amber glow across the space, adding to the eerie feel.
The door whispered shut behind me. I returned to it and turned the lock.
Ten minutes. In and out.
My eyes scanned the room. Cabinets, shelves, files. I moved fast to the desk.
Top drawer. Locked. Of course it was.
I slid open the one beneath it. More files. Financial records, some land deeds. Dull, and nothing that would help Hester.
Then my breath caught as I sat slowly in the desk chair, heart pounding. I opened the file and tilted it toward the low glow of the lamp.
Oh my god.
A witness statement.
“Female matching description seen by employee near the cliffs morning after disappearance. Pale coat. Disoriented.”
My fingers trembled across the pages. There was a map with the cliffs circled in red with a bold X.
A police report caught my eye as the locket heated to a painful temperature.
“Blood recovered from Jasper Blackwood’s shirt. Matched to Hester Blackwood. No remains found. Presumed voluntary departure or accident.”
Then at the bottom:
“Estate searched. Garden grounds cleared. Cadaver dogs negative.”
I read it again. Then again. It didn’t make sense.
My hands were trembling so fiercely it was hard to read. The locket at my chest suddenly flared cold. I dropped the file in my lap and snapped the locket open—pale limbs beneath a red rose.
The door clicked open in the darkness in front of me.
I froze, unable to see anything. Every nerve in my body screamed to run. The file was still on my lap. The door I’d come through was still shut. I’d locked it.
Run.
But I couldn’t move. Could hardly breathe.
Jasper’s voice was soft: “Find what you’re looking for?”
I turned slowly. Caught like an animal in a trap, about to beg for my life. Of course he had a key to his own office.
He stood in the shadows, watching me with unreadable eyes, his hands at his sides. No rage. No shock. Just calm, terrifying stillness.
“Breaking into my office?” he asked. “Looking for what? Proof I’m dangerous?” His voice moved closer. I could barely see him cloaked in darkness. “Or hoping I’d catch you? Punish you?”
I opened my mouth but only strangled, breathy sounds came out.
He reached me, coming into the soft amber glow of light. His hand removed the file from my lap with cold, casual precision. He set it on the desk and turned his gaze on me. My legs were trembling. I couldn’t have run even if I’d tried. Was he going to hurt me?
He stepped between my legs, pushing them open, hands still at his sides. No threat, but his body filled the space like one.
“You think I killed her?” he asked, voice so low the hair on the back of my neck rose.
I shook my head.
“Liar.” His tone darkened. “You read that file and panicked. Thought maybe you were next.”
I swallowed, eyes wide. Something about him screamed danger, like a thread was about to snap in him.
He smiled. Slowly. Filthily. And then his hand was between my legs.
Oh god.
I gasped. His hand brushed the skin under my shorts, and he pressed through my underwear. He dragged two fingers over the heat of me and paused. Smirked.
“You’re soaked.” He pushed inside of me without warning—deep, sure, and deliberate.
I whimpered, legs parting instinctively at his touch. The fear and lust swirled together, fueling my reaction in a terrifying, thrilling mix.
“Worried I’m a killer,” he murmured, “and still letting me inside you.” He moved his fingers slow and hard, curling against me just right. “You like it, don’t you? The not knowing.”
I bucked into his hand, my breath ragged.
“Makes you come harder.” He leaned in, towering over me. “Makes you wetter.”
I came with a muffled cry, biting my lip until I tasted blood. What was wrong with me?
He didn’t stop until I was shaking. Then he pulled his fingers out, wiped them slowly, deliberately on the hem of my shorts, looked me dead in the eyes.
“If I ever wanted to hurt you, Eliza…” He paused.
All I heard was the heaviness of both of our breathing.
“…you wouldn’t get a warning.”
My stomach dropped as he stepped back and turned his back to me dismissively.
“Go. Before I remind you why you really should be afraid of me.”
I stood on shaking legs, unable to think. At the door, he stopped me.
“Eliza?”
I looked over my shoulder.
His voice was quieter now, still dark but with something softer threaded through. “Put the file back where you found it. And don’t ever lie to me about what you’re looking for.” Then he added, without turning around, “You’re mine. You want to know something? You can just ask me next time.”
My head spun. That night we ate dinner together again, but we were quiet. He didn’t bring it up, just left me to unravel in my thoughts—thoughts that were about to get much, much worse.