CHAPTER TEN Red
CHAPTER TEN
Red
I shouldn’t be here.
Not in this house. Not in this situation. And definitely not standing behind a damn pillar, heart pounding like a caged bird while I watched him.
The man of my nightmares. The man who killed Adrian.
He stood in the centre of the foyer as he barked into his phone.
Twenty minutes. That’s how long he’d been pacing, threatening whoever was on the other end.
His posture was rigid, his fingers clenched around the device as if he could crush it.
The way his jaw ticked, the sharpness in his tone—it was almost hypnotizing.
Almost.
Then, with a final, growled command, he ended the call. His expression remained unreadable, but the tension in his body told me enough. Someone had pissed him off.
Good.
I held my breath as he strode toward the front doors, his long, deep brown trench coat swaying with each step. Two men flanked him—tall, broad, armed. Bodyguards. Just like I suspected.
The door opened. A rush of cold air slipped inside. He didn’t even glance back before stepping out.
Then came the sound I’d been waiting for.
The deep, guttural roar of his car.
I counted the seconds, pulse drumming in my ears. Ten… fifteen… twenty…
Gone.
I exhaled sharply, my grip loosening on the smooth stone pillar. My legs felt shaky, but I forced myself to move. One cautious step after another, I crept toward the grand staircase, my bare feet soundless against the marble.
The front door loomed ahead.
I knew better than to think escape would be easy. This place was a fortress, trapped between an unforgiving sea and a dense, endless forest. He wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t keep me here without precautions.
Still, I had to try.
I reached for the handle, fingers grazing the cool metal—
Locked.
Of course.
I swallowed the curse burning in my throat. This wasn’t unexpected. I just needed a new plan.
Think.
I was running on scraps of information. Last night, I’d slept—no, hidden—through dinner just to avoid him. Elena had brought me food, even though I’d pretended to be lost in sleep. This morning, when she’d come to wake me, I’d faked it again. She bought it.
I’d spent hours holed up in my room, trying to figure out my next move.
And now, here I was. Dressed in yet another ridiculous excuse for clothing, creeping around like some pathetic little prisoner.
My fists clenched.
I was a prisoner.
No more playing the terrified captive. If I wanted out of here, I needed to be smart.
And that meant understanding him.
Where did he go when he wasn’t here, making my life hell? What kind of business required those hushed, brutal conversations? Who was afraid of him enough to tremble at the other end of a phone line?
Answers were in this house.
His bedroom. His office. His secrets.
I pivoted on my heel, turning away from the door. My heart pounded as I moved deeper into the mansion, the eerie silence wrapping around me like a second skin.
I needed to be quick.
And unseen.
My nerves thrummed, every hair on my body standing on edge as I passed room after room, my gaze darting to every shadow, every darkened corner.
This place wasn’t just a house. It was a lair.
And I was trapped inside it.
The house was too quiet.
Not the peaceful kind, but the wrong kind. The kind that made my skin crawl like I was being watched, even when no one was there.
My bare feet whispered against the marble as I moved, slipping past dimly lit hallways and cold, lifeless rooms. There weren’t many people here. Just Elena, a few maids I hadn’t even seen properly, and the guards who lingered in the darkness.
For a man who acted like he owned the world, this place was unnervingly empty.
No, this wasn’t home. It was a prison. A well designed one.
I swallowed and pushed down the uneasy feeling clawing at my chest. I didn’t have time for this. I needed to find his room, his office… something that could tell me who the hell he really was.
My gaze flickered between the doors lining the corridor. Heavy. Solid. Expensive.
I pressed a hand against one, testing it.
Locked.
I moved to the next.
Locked.
Of course, the bastard wouldn’t make this easy.
I exhaled sharply, frustration simmering under my skin. I didn’t know how long he’d gone, but if he caught me snooping, I doubted I’d get away with just a warning.
I groaned in frustration and pushed until I reached the end of the hall.
Then I saw it.
A door unlike the others.
Bigger. Heavier. The kind that belonged to someone who had something to protect.
Bingo.
I reached for the handle and—
It turned.
Not locked.
Adrenaline spiked through me as I eased it open, slipping inside before I could second-guess myself.
The scent hit me first.
Dark, woodsy. A mix of leather, expensive cologne, and something deeper – something him. It wrapped around me like a rope. Scratching against my insides and killing me.
I swallowed down the shudder crawling up my spine and forced myself to move.
The room was massive, but not grand, the way I expected. No vanity, no pretentious decorations. Just dark walls, heavy curtains, and sleek functional furniture. A king-sized bed in the middle, black sheets rumpled, like he didn’t sleep much, or when he did, it was violent.
To the right, there was a fireplace. To the left was a bookshelf lined with titles I didn’t have time to care about. Against the far wall, there was a desk.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I didn’t waste time. I hurried across the room, fingers grazing the surface, searching for anything—notes, documents, a laptop—anything that could tell me what kind of monster I was dealing with.
Nothing.
I yanked open a drawer.
Empty.
Another.
Papers. Plain white sheets. Useless.
Damn it.
I turned toward the bookshelf, skimming over the spines. Nothing unusual. Nothing screamed hidden secrets. But something – a feeling, a sixth sense, or maybe just my damn gut warning me – told me there was something off.
I stopped. My gaze lingered on one book. It was out of place. Too new. The edges weren’t torn, and the cover was metallic. It looked untouched. Why would someone have a metallic book? Was it just for decoration? He didn’t seem like a man who would do something without a reason.
I hesitated. My pulse quickened, and I slowly reached for it. My fingers just brushed over the metallic book, and the second I pulled it from the shelf, a soft click echoed through the room.
I froze.
A chill ran down my spine.
A hidden door.
My pulse skyrocketed.
The bookshelf groaned as it shifted. The entire structure moved, and I yelped and jumped back, watching with wide eyes.
I stared.
What. The. Hell.
I should’ve backed away. Should’ve left, pretended I saw nothing, and continued my pathetic excuse of an escape plan.
But I didn’t.
Because this bastard had secrets, and if there was one thing I hated more than him, it was being left in the dark.
I inhaled sharply, forcing my feet forward. The hidden doorway was narrow, but enough to accommodate a person or two. I stepped through even though every nerve in my body screamed at me to stop.
The moment I turned the corner, my breath caught.
A red room.
Not just red—crimson. Dark. Sinister. Like a warning carved into the walls themselves.
Leather straps. Chains. Cuffs hanging from the ceiling. A sleek black table lined with polished instruments that gleamed under the soft light. Some familiar. Some… horrifyingly foreign.
A whip coiled neatly at the centre. A bench with restraints. A cage.
A fucking cage.
A sick feeling curled in my stomach.
This wasn’t just some rich man’s indulgence.
This was control. This was discipline. This was power, wielded by a man who enjoyed watching people squirm.
I swallowed, forcing my legs to move as I stepped closer, as if some invisible force dared me to understand what kind of monster I was dealing with.
Why wasn’t I surprised?
Of course he had a fucking torture chamber in his house. Of course he had an entire room dedicated to breaking people, bending them, and moulding them into whatever he wanted.
I should’ve expected this.
My stomach twisted.
I could picture it too easily—the way his stormy gaze would darken with something unreadable, the way his voice would drop to that terrifyingly low register, murmuring commands that no one dared to disobey.
Had he brought people here? Women?
I squeezed my eyes shut, bile rising in my throat.
The worst part?
I didn’t know what unsettled me more. The fact that he had this room.
Or the fact that I wasn’t entirely shocked.
Because deep down, I already knew he was the kind of man who enjoyed taking, owning, and controlling.
But now, I had proof.
And if I wasn’t careful, I’d be next.