Chapter 76 Chapter Twenty Three
Salem’s POV
I have spent the last few minutes scrolling through movies on Netflix, until finally deciding on Stranger Things. I told myself I’d just watch an episode or two, but I got pulled in fast. Before I knew it, I was in the kitchen grabbing a bowl of popcorn, blanket tucked under my arm like I was settling in for the night.
I curled up on the couch, wrapped in my blanket, and let the glow of the screen wash over me.
Hours slipped by and when my eyes finally grew heavy, I realized how late it had gotten. I stood, leaving the empty popcorn bowl on the table, and walked toward Vale’s room.
This time, I didn’t hesitate.
He’d given me full access—no more locked doors, no more rules. Every inch of this mansion was open to me now, and yet his room was the only place that ever felt like safety. Or maybe it was just the scent that lingered there—leather, smoke, and something sharper underneath that always made my pulse stumble.
The door creaked softly as I pushed it open.
I entered Vale’s room.
His scent still lingered—dark cedarwood and something colder, sharper, like smoke after rain. It wrapped around me the moment I stepped in, tugging at my chest. The curtains were drawn, the room bathed in low amber from the bedside lamp.
I crossed to the bed and sat, pulling his pillow to my chest, breathing him in until my throat tightened.
“Idiot,” I murmured under my breath, clutching the pillow tighter. “You could’ve at least called.”
I didn’t realize when my eyes started to burn, or when I sank deeper against the sheets. The movie still hummed from the other room, the glow from the TV flickering faintly through the crack of the door. Eventually, exhaustion took me under.
And that was when I heard him.
“Salem.”
It was his voice—low, steady, but something about it was wrong. Distant. Too even, like he was forcing control over panic.
“Vale?” I whispered, half-asleep.
“Listen to me carefully,” he said. His tone changed—sharper now, urgent. “If you ever hear the security alarm go off, it means someone’s breached the mansion. Don’t wait for me. Don’t look for me. Do you understand?”
My pulse quickened. “What are you talking about? Where are you?”
“Behind the study bookshelf, there’s a hidden door,” he continued, ignoring my question. “Take it. Follow the tunnel until you reach the garden wall—it’ll open to the street. Find somewhere public. A hotel, somewhere with cameras, people around you. If you can, use my credit card and pay the police to stay with you till morning. Do whatever it takes to stay safe.”
“Lucian, please, tell me what’s happening.”
I tried to reach him, but the space between us stretched like elastic, pulling him farther away.
A pause. Then, quieter—“If you hear the alarms, that means they’ve found you so you have to leave.”
My breath caught.
“They?” I echoed. “Who’s—”
But his voice overlapped mine, firm and final. “Promise me, Salem. Don’t be brave. Be safe.”
“Lucian!” I screamed. “Lucian, don’t go—”
The world around me flickered, like glass trembling in the dark. I saw flashes—metal restraints, shadows writhing, the echo of screams buried beneath the ground. Lucian’s face, pale with strain. Blood. Chains.
I jerked upright, gasping.
The lamp was still glowing softly, the room unchanged but my skin was clammy, and the air felt colder, heavier. The sound of my heartbeat thundered in my ears.
Tears spilled from my eyes before I even understood why. My body trembled. I didn’t need him to say it—I knew. The calmness in his voice, the look in his eyes… Lucian was in danger.
The alarm went off at first like a whisper. A dull, mechanical vibration that barely touched the edge of my hearing. For a second, I thought it was part of the dream. But when the glass on the nightstand trembled, I knew it wasn’t.
I froze, my mind blank. Then his voice echoed again in my head from the dream — If you ever hear the security alarm go off, it means someone’s breached the mansion. Don’t wait for me. Don’t look for me.
“Vale?” My voice cracked as I looked around the dim room. The sound was louder now, pulsing like a heartbeat under the walls.
I didn’t waste another second.
The study was dark when I stumbled in, but I knew where to go. My fingers brushed over the spine of a thick black book, and I pulled it down. A soft click. The bookshelf shifted an inch, revealing a thin gap.
The secret door.
Cold air spilled through the opening, sharp with dust and earth. My hand trembled as I pushed the shelf farther aside. The tunnel was narrow, and the steps uneven, but I didn’t care. I clutched my phone, a small bag, and Vale’s spare card, and ran.
Every sound echoed — my footsteps, my breath, the soft thud of my bag hitting my side. I could feel the ground trembling faintly, as if something massive had awakened beneath the mansion.
I didn’t look back. I didn’t dare.
When I finally reached the end, the tunnel opened into the garden wall. I pushed against a metal latch, and the small door gave way with a groan. Cool night air hit my face, and I stumbled out onto the empty street.
The mansion looked quiet from here — too quiet. The lights were off, and not even the wind stirred through the iron gates.
I turned away. I couldn’t look any longer.
\---
By the time I reached the next town, the sky was already breaking into dawn. I couldn’t remember most of the drive — just the endless road and the taste of fear sitting heavy in my mouth.
I checked into a small hotel by the bus station. The kind of place that didn’t ask too many questions as long as you paid upfront. I dropped my bag by the door and collapsed onto the bed, still wearing Vale’s hoodie.
The fabric smelled like him — leather and something faintly metallic. I buried my face in it and whispered, “Where are you?”
No answer. Just the distant rumble of passing cars.
\---
Days turned to weeks.
I tried to live. I really did. I went out during the day, stayed invisible, kept my phone close. I learned the streets of the small town — the quiet park near the river, the bakery that opened early, the diner that played 80s songs all morning.
That’s where I met Ezekiel.
He was sitting two tables away, in a police uniform, stirring his coffee. I hadn’t meant to talk to him — but when I dropped my phone and he caught it midair.
“You’ve got fast hands,” I said, thanking him.
He smiled. “Reflexes. Comes with the badge.”
I smiled weakly, mostly out of habit. “Guess so.”
We started talking after that. Small things at first. He seemed calm and down-to-earth, the kind of man who didn’t feel the need to talk all the time or force conversation when things were quiet. Maybe that’s why I felt safe enough to ask for help.
Not protection.
Just… answers.
I told him about Vale, that he’d gone missing. That I hadn’t heard from him in days. That something felt wrong.
Ezekiel listened carefully. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t ask for proof. Just nodded and said he’d see what he could do. He didn’t ask too many questions either, only the basics—Lucian’s full name, where I’d last seen him, and a few other details. I told him everything I knew.
But the moment I mentioned Lucian Vale, his brows shot up, and his whole expression changed.
“Lucian Vale?” he repeated, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard me right. “You mean the Lucian Vale? The mega billionaire? He’s missing?”
Before I could even respond, he leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Wait—could you be that girl he adopted a few months ago? His… adopted kid?”
I froze.
I couldn’t lie.
But God, I hated hearing him say adopted kid. The word rubbed against me like sandpaper. I wasn’t some charity case or orphan he picked up from the street. I swallowed the irritation, forcing myself to stay calm. Ezekiel didn’t mean it that way—he looked more alarmed than anything, shaken that someone like Lucian Vale could vanish just like that.
To him, Vale wasn’t just some rich man. He was untouchable, the kind of person you never imagined could disappear. And maybe that was what scared me the most.
Since then, he checked on me every few days. Sometimes he’d bring me a cup of coffee, or sit across from me at the diner, scrolling through his phone as if he wasn’t watching me the whole time.
\---
But I wasn’t resting.
I started keeping a notebook — full of fragments from the dreams that wouldn’t leave me alone.
Chains. Screams. Blood. Cold room. Humming sound. Vale’s face—pale, shaking.
Sometimes, I’d see flashes while I was awake too. Reflections in the mirror that weren’t mine. A flicker of metal. A hand reaching out.
Every time I tried to focus, the image slipped away. Like someone had smeared it with fog.
But I knew it was real.
Every night, when I closed my eyes, I could feel him — somewhere far below, like he was calling for me through the ground.
And I couldn’t ignore it anymore.