Chapter 22: Secrets in the Cellar

RORY

The mansion at night was a different creature.

During the day, it was all echoing hallways and the soft hum of power, a place where footsteps carried too far and eyes watched from every shadow. But at night… the walls felt closer, the silence thicker. Like the house itself was holding its breath, waiting for something.

I didn’t have a plan when I slipped out of my room. Not a real one, anyway. I just knew I needed to move. Sitting still here meant losing pieces of myself one at a time, and I’d already lost enough.

I padded down the west wing corridor, where the light bulbs flickered more than they should, until I found a door I hadn’t tried before. It was old, its paint chipped at the edges, and the brass handle was cold under my palm. Locked.

Figures.

But just as I turned to leave, I noticed the faintest draft curling around my ankles. I crouched and found it—the seam of air escaping through the gap where the door didn’t quite meet the frame. There was space behind this door.

I pressed my ear to it. Nothing.

Then I heard it.

Not a sound exactly… more like the absence of one. A muffled stillness, thick and heavy, with the faintest scrape of movement.

I should’ve walked away.

Instead, I pulled a hairpin from my pocket. It took longer than I wanted, but eventually the lock clicked.

The door opened onto a set of narrow stairs leading down.

The air grew colder with each step, damp and faintly metallic, like rain on rust. My hand skimmed the wall as I descended, the concrete rough under my fingertips. When I reached the bottom, there was another door—steel this time, with a small square window barred over.

That’s when I heard it clearly.

Breathing.

Slow, steady… but not mine.

I stepped closer and peered through the bars.

A man sat in the corner of a dimly lit room. His hair was a mess of dark curls, his face shadowed, but his eyes—God, his eyes—snapped to mine the second I moved.

We stared at each other, and my heart tripped over itself.

“You’re not one of them,” he said. His voice was hoarse, like it hadn’t been used in a while.

“Who are you?” I asked.

He smiled faintly, but it was the kind of smile that said he knew too much. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is… you shouldn’t be here.”

“Why?”

“Because if they find you talking to me, you won’t walk away.”

Something about the way he said it made my stomach knot.

“How long have you been down here?” I asked.

“Long enough to know what they really are,” he said. “And long enough to know what your father did to end up in their debt.”

My chest tightened. “You know my father?”

His smile widened, slow and grim. “Better than you do.”

Before I could push for more, I heard footsteps above us—heavy, deliberate. My pulse spiked.

The man’s eyes went sharp. “Go. Now.”

But my feet didn’t move. “Tell me what you know—”

“Rory,” he said, low and urgent, “if they catch you here, they’ll put you in the cell next to mine. And you… you won’t last.”

The footsteps were getting closer.

I backed away from the door, my heart hammering against my ribs.

“I’ll come back,” I whispered.

His gaze softened for a fraction of a second. “If you do… bring the truth with you.”

I turned and darted up the stairs, pulling the door shut behind me just as a shadow fell across the hallway.

Kai stood there, one hand in his pocket, his expression unreadable.

His gaze flicked to the door behind me, then back to my face.

“Find something interesting?” he asked, voice quiet enough to make the hair on my arms rise.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

And then he stepped closer, just enough for me to feel the heat radiating off him, his eyes catching the dim light like gold burning in the dark.

“I’ll give you one chance,” he said. “Tell me exactly what you saw down there… or I’ll take you to see it again.”