Chapter 32 Thrity Two
The door closed softly behind him. And the room fell silent again.
Mira sat there frozen, staring at the spot where Salvatore had just been standing.
Her heart was still beating fast.
“…What the hell was that?” she whispered.
Her eyes dropped slowly toward the tray beside her.
The coffee smelled fresh. The eggs were still warm.
He really made breakfast for her. That alone felt disturbing enough.
But that wasn’t what stayed stuck in her head.
It was what he said after.
Stay out of abandoned buildings.
Her stomach tightened.
Mira grabbed the blanket tighter around herself as her thoughts started racing again.
How did he know?
She never told anyone about the west wing.
She made sure no one followed her. At least… she thought nobody did.
Unless…
“No…” she whispered quickly, shaking her head.
Her eyes moved toward the door again.
Was he following her?
Watching her?
Or worse— Was he the one who sent the text?
The thought made coldness crawl up her spine.
Mira grabbed her phone from beside the bed quickly and opened the messages again.
Her thumb hovered over it. Then her mind flashed back to last night.
The dead birds. The photo.
The writing on the glass.
Her chest tightened again.
And then another memory hit her— Salvatore carrying her.
The warmth of his chest against hers.
His hand at her waist.
The way his voice softened when he asked if she was okay.
Mira groaned quietly and dropped back against the headboard.
“…You are losing your mind,” she muttered to herself.
Because none of this made sense.
How could someone terrify her that badly… then turn around the next morning and bring her breakfast like some caring boyfriend?
It was sick and confusing. Except he was messing with my mind then it’s working she thought and annoyed her more than anything.
Mira looked back toward the tray suspiciously.
Then carefully picked up the fork.
“…If I die from poisoned eggs,” she murmured, “I’m haunting everybody in this mansion.”
She took a cautious bite.
Silence filled the room.. then a second passed then another.
Her brows slowly pulled together.
“…Okay,” she muttered reluctantly.”It’s actually good.”
Which was somehow even more offensive.
Mira ate slowly, her thoughts still spinning in circles.
Ghosts.
That was what he said.
The west wing is off limits. There are ghosts there.
A normal person would laugh at that.
But after last night?
After the birds?
After the blood on the glass?
And knowing the kind of reputation Salvatore holds
Nothing about this mansion felt normal anymore.
And Salvatore… his up to something and she was sure of it
Mira stared down at the coffee quietly.
Then whispered to herself—“ You’re hiding something, Salvatore Corvin.”
Her eyes slowly lifted toward the closed door.
“And I’m going to find out what it is.”
Mira leaned back against the headboard slowly, the tray resting across her lap.
Her ankle still hurt. Not enough to stop her from getting to root of why she was in this damn place.
She glanced toward the ice pack sitting abandoned beside the pillow before scoffing softly to herself.
“Great job, Mira,” she muttered. “You almost became a ghost yourself chasing ghost stories.”
Her fingers tightened slightly around the coffee mug.
Someone was messing with her. Someone wanted her scared.
And the worst part? It was working.
Mira exhaled slowly and looked toward the closed door again.
Her mind replayed Salvatore’s face from a few minutes ago.
The way he stood in her room looking hot as hell with shirt sleeve rolled up. Mira face turned red as she thought about it.
The way his voice dropped when he warned her about the west wing.
The way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.
Her stomach twisted slightly.
“You are so up to something,” she whispered.”And I’m going to find out what.”
Everything about him screamed danger.
But somehow… every time she got close to uncovering something, he pulled her in another direction showing her multiple layers of himself she can’t understand.
The dance. Now breakfast in bed.
Like he wanted her distracted. Like he wanted her confused.
And maybe she was.
A little.
But not enough to forget why she came here in the first place.
Mira pushed the tray aside carefully and swung her legs over the bed.
The second her injured foot touched the floor, pain shot through her ankle.
She hissed quietly.
“…Shit.”Her body immediately tried to sit back down.
But she forced herself to stay upright.
“No,” she muttered firmly.
“You don’t get to lie around because your ankle hurts.”
Not when six women are dead.
Not when Salvatore Corvin walked around this mansion acting like some charming gentleman while women go missing and end up dying. Not when someone was stalking her inside this house.
Mira grabbed the edge of the bed for balance and stood fully.
Pain pulsed through her ankle again.
But she could bear it. She took a careful step.
Then another. Slowly testing the pressure.
“Okay,” she breathed out. “Still hurts bit but I can handle it.”
Her eyes drifted toward the large windows across the room.
The mansion grounds stretched outside, quiet under the morning light.
Somewhere out there… Salvatore was probably already working.
Already moving pieces around like he always did.
And she was supposed to sit here?
Rest?
Absolutely not.
Mira limped toward the mirror slowly, stopping in front of it.
Her reflection looked exhausted. Hair messy.
Eyes tired.
But underneath all that fear… There was still determination. That was all she needed if she wanted to survive this mansion.
She stared at herself for a long second before speaking quietly.
“You came here for a reason.Not for his pretty eyes. Not for his stupid smirks.And definitely not for whatever weird thing your heart keeps doing every time he got too close..”
She narrowed her eyes slightly at herself.
“He’s dangerous,” she reminded herself firmly.
The image of him carrying her flashed through her mind again anyway.
Warm hands. Steady heartbeat.
The way he looked at her like she was delicate made her cheek flushed.
Mira groaned and covered her face briefly.
“This man is a problem.”
Then she dropped her hands again and straightened.
No more distractions. No more getting caught off guard.
Because if Salvatore Corvin was hiding something…
She was going to find it.
Even if she had to tear this entire mask off she’ll do it