Chapter 83 Zachariah

Chapter 83 Zachariah
Elara’s POV

The guard’s grip on my arm was bruising, his fingers digging into my skin with a strength that made me wince as he dragged me through the seemingly endless corridors of the mansion. My feet stumbled to keep up with his long, determined strides while another guard followed closely behind, ensuring there was no chance of escape. Every turn we took only deepened the sinking feeling in my stomach. The heavy silence between them frightened me more than any shouting ever could. It felt deliberate, like they wanted me to sit with my fear and let it grow.

Neither of them spoke a word.

They didn’t need to.

I already knew exactly where they were taking me.

Zachariah.

The massive double doors at the end of the hallway slowly came into view, looming like a final judgment. One of the guards knocked twice before pushing them open, and I was marched inside without any ceremony or explanation. My pulse hammered wildly against my ribs as I tried to steel myself for whatever punishment or interrogation waited on the other side.

The office looked exactly as I remembered it — elegant, orderly, and dangerously quiet. Zachariah sat behind his enormous desk with a fountain pen in one hand, his attention completely absorbed by the document in front of him. He didn’t acknowledge our presence at all. He didn’t even glance up. The only sound in the room was the quiet scratch of his pen moving across the paper, as though nothing else in the world — certainly not me — deserved even a fraction of his attention.

I waited, heart pounding.

The guards waited too, standing rigidly on either side of me.

Still…

Nothing.

He finished signing the page with a deliberate flourish before placing the pen neatly beside the stack of documents. Only then did he lift his head, his dark eyes settling on me with a calm, almost clinical curiosity that sent a fresh wave of unease through me.

“Explain,” he said simply.

His voice wasn’t loud or angry. It was simply expectant, like he already knew I would answer and was merely waiting for the formalities to be over.

The guard beside me spoke immediately, his tone respectful but firm. “We found her in the restricted corridor, sir. She attempted to enter the lower holding cells without authorization. She ignored direct orders to stay away.”

Zachariah listened without interrupting, his expression never changing. When the report ended, he gave a single, small nod. “You may leave.”

The guards hesitated for a moment, clearly surprised.

“…Sir?” one of them ventured carefully.

“I said…” His tone remained perfectly calm, though there was an edge of impatience beneath it. “You may leave.”

Neither man questioned him again. They bowed their heads and quietly left the office, closing the heavy doors behind them with a loud, final click that echoed through the room like a prison sentence.

Now…

It was just him.

And me.

I forced myself to stand perfectly still, refusing to let him see how badly my hands wanted to shake. Every instinct screamed at me to look away, to lower my eyes, to make myself smaller, but I refused to give him that satisfaction. If he intended to break me, he would have to work a lot harder than this. I wouldn’t make it easy for him.

For several long, agonizing seconds, he simply watched me.

Not with anger.

Not with amusement.

With quiet, unnerving curiosity.

“You seem incapable of following rules,” he said at last, his voice low and measured.

I didn’t answer. My throat felt too tight, my mind racing with a thousand fears I refused to voice.

A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, though it never reached his eyes. “Yet…”

He leaned back comfortably in his chair, studying me like I was a puzzle he was slowly piecing together.

“You’re still alive.”

The words settled over the room like ice. He wasn’t threatening me. He was simply stating a fact, almost as though he found my continued survival… interesting. His fingers tapped lightly against the polished armrest of his chair.

“Tell me something.”

I remained silent, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my ears.

“Why do you keep risking your life?”

There didn’t seem to be any point in lying. My voice came out quieter than I wanted. “Because I want to leave.”

For the first time, a quiet laugh escaped him — not mocking, but almost thoughtful, like my answer had genuinely intrigued him. “Everyone wants to leave.”

His dark eyes never left mine. “Very few are willing to die trying.”

The silence that stretched between us felt heavier than before. I couldn’t understand him at all. He wasn’t behaving like the monster I had imagined in my head. That somehow made him even more frightening, because I couldn’t predict what he would do next.

He rose slowly from his chair and walked toward the enormous window overlooking the estate. His hands rested casually behind his back as he gazed out into the darkness beyond the glass.

“You intrigue me, Elara.”

My heart skipped a beat.

He knew my name.

“I’ve watched people beg,” he continued without turning around. “I’ve watched them cry. I’ve watched them bargain for their lives.”

Finally, he looked back at me, his expression unreadable. “You’ve done none of those things.”

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. “I’m not interested in begging.”

“No.” A faint smile returned to his lips. “I noticed.”

He walked back toward his desk with that same unhurried grace. When he spoke again, it was almost absentmindedly. “No whipping.”

The words confused me.

He pressed a small brass bell sitting on his desk. Moments later, two guards entered the room and stood at attention.

“You called, sir?”

Zachariah never looked away from me. “No confinement.”

The guards exchanged a quick, uncertain glance. Clearly, that wasn’t what they had expected.

Then he delivered the decision that made every muscle in my body tense with disbelief.

“From tomorrow…” He paused for a moment, as if savoring the weight of his words. “…she serves me personally.”

The room fell completely silent.

One of the guards looked up before quickly lowering his gaze again. “As you command, sir.”

I frowned, my mind reeling. Serve him? Why? I had expected punishment. Pain. Maybe even a prison cell. Not… this.

Zachariah finally looked at the guards. “Make sure she’s available whenever I require her.”

“Yes, sir.”

He dismissed them with a small wave of his hand before returning to the paperwork on his desk as though I no longer existed. “Our conversation is over.”

One of the guards stepped forward to escort me out. “This way.”

I didn’t move right away. My eyes remained fixed on Zachariah, confusion and defiance warring inside me. “Why me?”

The question slipped out before I could stop it.

His pen paused mid-signature.

For several long seconds, he said nothing. Then, without looking up, he answered quietly, “Because puzzles deserve closer inspection.”

A strange chill crept down my spine. I had no idea what he meant by that, but somehow I knew my life inside this mansion had just become far more dangerous than before.

Before the guards could lead me away, another knock sounded at the office door..