Chapter 133 Shadows in the Basement
DAVID
The sound of gravel crunching beneath the car tires faded as I stepped out into the cool night air. My guards hauled Western out of the vehicle, his body slumped but still exuding defiance. Shadows danced across his bruised face under the pale glow of the outdoor lights. Without a word, they dragged him toward the basement door, the sharp clink of their boots echoing against the stone walls.
I turned to the maids waiting by the entrance. “Take Mrs. Williams to a guest room,” I instructed, my voice calm but firm.
Before they could move, her soft voice interrupted. “Can I see Sofia before I sleep?”
Her words tugged at something deep within me. Sofia. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to hearing Bella called that, even if it was her given name. I managed a smile, masking my unease.
“I’ll bring her to your room,” I promised gently.
She gave a small nod, her face weary yet hopeful, and followed the maids inside.
Beside me, Janet shifted her weight impatiently. Her silence didn’t fool me; her gaze flicked toward the basement, where Western was being secured. If I let her go alone, I might find Western’s lifeless body before I had the chance to extract the information I needed.
“Basement now, or do you want to wait for me?” I asked, my tone light but knowing.
Janet’s lips curled into a sly grin. “I’ll wait. But don’t take too long,” she added, her voice carrying an edge that made my guards glance nervously at her.
I left her in the foyer and climbed the stairs, each step quick but measured. At Bella’s door, I knocked softly. There was no response, but I pushed the door open anyway. She was curled under the blanket, her small frame tense. The moment her eyes met mine, she yanked the covers over her face like a sulking child.
“I’m sorry, Bella. Can we talk?” My voice was careful, almost pleading.
“I’m not interested,” she shot back, her voice muffled but sharp.
I chuckled softly. “I got your mom back. She’s waiting for you.”
The blanket dropped in an instant. Her wide eyes searched mine, disbelief etched on her face. “Are you serious?”
I nodded. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect her before, but she’s here now. She’s safe.”
Her reaction was immediate she flung herself into my arms, holding me so tightly I could hardly breathe. Her warmth, her scent, her trembling hands it was enough to crack the armor I wore daily.
“I love you, David,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
My heart swelled, and for a moment, everything else melted away. “Do you want to see her?” I asked softly.
She nodded, wiping at the tears streaming down her cheeks. I took her hand, guiding her toward the guest room. She knocked lightly, but as soon as the door opened, she bolted inside, throwing her arms around her mother.
I lingered in the doorway, watching their reunion. Something in me softened—a rare vulnerability I couldn’t afford to show often. Quietly, I closed the door and made my way back to Janet, who was pacing in the living room.
“You’re late,” she muttered, crossing her arms.
Without a word, we headed to the basement. As we descended, the air grew colder, the scent of damp stone mingling with faint traces of blood and sweat. Elowen’s voice stopped us halfway down.
“David, can I come?” she asked, her tone hesitant yet determined. “I need to see my father. Just once more.”
I studied her face. Despite her bravado, there was a fragility in her eyes. “Fine,” I said, motioning for her to follow.
The basement was dimly lit, the single bulb casting jagged shadows on the rough concrete walls. Western was tied to a chair, his wrists bound tightly, his face a mask of defiance despite the swelling around his eye. Peter was next to him, smirking as if he had already won some unspoken game.
“Well, well,” Peter drawled, his gaze locking onto me. “You actually got him. Didn’t think you had it in you, Copperfield.”
Western spat on the floor, his glare venomous. “And what now? You think tying me up changes anything?”
“More than you’d like,” I said, my voice low but steady.
Peter’s smirk widened. “You know, I told him everything every little thing I did for you, Copperfield. Because I knew this day would come. And thanks to you, my daughter’s now stuck in this cesspool of a life.” He jerked his head toward Elowen. “You didn’t keep your promises.”
Western laughed bitterly. “You’re pathetic, Peter. I paid you every cent I owed, and you gambled it away. That’s why your daughter ended up here.”
Peter’s calm demeanor shattered. He lunged forward, his bindings creaking under the strain. “You bastard!” he roared. “You ruined my life, and now you—”
His voice faltered as he caught sight of Elowen. His smirk returned, cruel and taunting. “Do you think your father’s a good man, Elowen? Do you honestly believe he’s any better than me?”
Elowen stiffened, her voice trembling. “What do you mean?”
“Peter,” Western growled, panic flickering in his eyes. “Shut your mouth.”
Peter leaned back, his grin darkening. “Ask your dear father how your mother died. Ask him why you’ve been lied to your whole life.”
“That’s enough!” I barked, stepping forward.
But it was too late. The seed of doubt had been planted, and Elowen’s eyes darted between Peter and her father, uncertainty clouding her expression.
Elowen's trembling hands balled into fists. Her voice cracked as she repeated, “Dad… is it true?”
Western’s lips parted, but no sound came. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until Peter laughed softly a cruel, mocking sound that echoed off the cold concrete walls.
“You see,” Peter said, his grin widening, “sometimes the monsters aren’t hiding under your bed. They’re sitting at the dinner table.”