Chapter 78: I thought I knew him

Elara’s POV

My heart stopped.

Vincent.

For one impossible, beautiful second, the entire room disappeared. The guards, the servants, the Master, the suffocating walls of this nightmare mansion — everything faded away until there was only him standing in the doorway. Relief crashed over me so suddenly that my knees nearly gave out. He was here. Somehow, against all odds, he had found me. I was going home.

His eyes found mine almost instantly.

There it was — that tiny pause. Barely a heartbeat. But I saw it. Shock flickered across his face so quickly I almost convinced myself I’d imagined it. Then it was gone, replaced by the same cool, unreadable mask he always wore, the one that said he owned every room he walked into and expected the world to adjust around him.

For a split second, I felt a rush of joy. But then he looked right through me. Like I was just another face in the crowd. Like I didn’t matter. That stung worse than anything.

“Vincent,” the Master greeted smoothly, crossing the room with an easy smile. “You’re earlier than I expected.”

“The roads were clear,” Vincent replied, shaking his hand firmly. “I saw no reason to waste daylight.”

“I appreciate punctuality.”

“As do I.”

Their conversation flowed with practiced ease, like two men who had known each other for years and understood exactly where the lines between respect and caution were drawn. There was no hostility, no forced politeness. They spoke like businessmen who were used to negotiating dangerous things over expensive liquor and even more expensive secrets.

I couldn’t understand it.

Why wasn’t he saying anything?

Why wasn’t he looking at me again?

Why wasn’t he demanding to know why I was standing here in a servant’s uniform inside this house?

My pulse hammered painfully against my ribs as the fragile hope I’d been clinging to slowly slipped through my fingers. Maybe he hadn’t recognized me. No — that was a lie. He had looked directly into my eyes. He knew exactly who I was.

So why was he pretending I didn’t exist?

The Master poured two glasses of amber liquor and handed one to Vincent. “I trust the journey wasn’t unpleasant.”

“I’ve endured worse.”

A quiet chuckle escaped the Master. “I never doubted it.”

They continued talking. Every word sounded painfully ordinary compared to the storm raging inside my chest. I stood frozen with the other servants, waiting — praying — for Vincent to interrupt the conversation, to point at me, to demand an explanation. He never did. Not once.

Finally, the Master set his glass down. “I think we’ve discussed enough for now.” He glanced toward us. “The servants may leave.”

The older housekeeper bowed immediately. “You heard him.”

One by one, everyone turned toward the door. I hesitated for just a second. Maybe… maybe Vincent would stop me. Maybe he’d call my name once the others started walking.

Nothing.

Not a single word.

I lowered my head and followed the others out of the room, every step heavier than the last. By the time the door closed behind us, the fragile hope I’d been holding onto had shattered into something sharp enough to cut.

The servants’ quarters felt colder than before.

Raye sat beside me on the narrow bed without speaking, giving me the space I hadn’t asked for but desperately needed. Around us, the other maids quietly folded laundry, polished silverware, or prepared uniforms for the evening, moving through their routines like people who had long ago accepted that this place had stolen every piece of freedom they once had.

I stared down at my hands.

He found me.

He looked at me.

He walked away.

The thoughts kept repeating until I wasn’t sure which one hurt the most.

“Elara…” Raye’s voice was barely above a whisper.

I looked at her.

“You know him, don’t you?”

For a long moment, I couldn’t answer. Finally, I nodded once. “I… thought I did.”

The words tasted bitter. Because I wasn’t so sure anymore.

A sharp knock interrupted the heavy silence. The older housekeeper stepped inside. “On your feet.”

Everyone stood immediately.

“The Master is hosting a private dinner with his guest. Expect to be on your best behavior. No mistakes. Just concentration.” She called me and Raye with some girls.“Y’all be among those serving tonight.”

The dining room looked nothing like the underground prison hidden beneath the mansion.

Soft candlelight danced across a long table, crystal glasses sparkling beneath an enormous chandelier. The scent of expensive wine mixed with freshly prepared food drifting in from the kitchen. Everything about the room radiated elegance and wealth, but all I could think about was Vincent. Maybe I shouldn’t have let myself hope.

The Master sat at the head of the table. Vincent occupied the seat to his right. And for the entire meal, he never once looked at me. Fuck it. I was done with him the moment I got out of this place.

Two other men in tailored suits completed the gathering. They spoke quietly among themselves, discussing. I kept my eyes lowered as I carried a bottle of wine toward the table, instructed by one of the chief maids.

“Stop.”

The Master’s voice was calm.

I froze instantly, my hand hanging in the air as I was about to pour in some wine in his glass.

He studied me for a moment before a faint smile crossed his lips. “You’ve adjusted rather quickly.”

I said nothing.

Silence stretched between us. His smile widened ever so slightly. “Still refusing to lower your eyes.”

Before I could react, he lifted my chin with one finger. Not gently. Not cruelly. Simply… examining me. His gaze moved across my face with detached curiosity.

“Interesting.”

My stomach twisted. My eyes, which had been locked on his, shifted toward Vincent. I couldn’t look away from him. He didn’t remove his gaze from me, but his expression remained perfectly composed. Only the hand wrapped around his whiskey glass betrayed him. A faint cracking sound reached my ears — so quiet no one else seemed to notice. One drop of amber liquor slipped over the rim and landed silently against the polished table.

The Master finally released my chin.

“I underestimated her,” he said, glancing toward Vincent. “She’s proving more interesting than I expected.”

Then Vincent tore his gaze on me and calmly lifted his glass. “She’s one of your servants.”

Four simple words. Nothing more. Nothing less.

They struck harder than any slap ever could.

One of your servants.

That was all I was to him.

That was all he saw.

I lowered my eyes before anyone noticed the sting behind them. Of course. What had I expected? That he’d walk into the lion’s den and rescue me in front of everyone? That he’d risk his own life for mine?

I felt foolish. Hopelessly, painfully foolish.

“You can set the wine down. I’ll summon you when I need it,” the Master said.

I did as I was told and moved to stand with the other servants near the wall. I glanced at Raye — she was serving food, moving in and out of the room quietly. Dinner continued as though nothing had happened.

I forced my hands to remain steady despite the ache growing heavier inside my chest.

When the meal finally ended, the Master leaned back in his chair. “That will be all.”

His gaze swept across the room. “Take the servants away.”

Then he looked toward the guards stationed by the doors. “You as well.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he reached for another bottle of whiskey. “My longtime acquaintance and I have a few matters we’d prefer to discuss in private.”

No one questioned the order. One by one, we bowed our heads and filed silently toward the door.

I didn’t look back.

I couldn’t.

Because if Vincent truly didn’t care…

I wasn’t sure my heart could survive seeing it again.

But one thing was for sure — I was done hoping on him. I’d have to find a way out on my own.