Chapter 36 Beneath the Floorboards
The words of the confrontation died in Elena’s throat before she could even step fully into the living room.
From the top of the stairs, she had been ready to scream, to demand a divorce or to even throw Cassandra Monroe out into the street with her bare hands to start with.
But as she descended the final few steps, the scene in the foyer wasn't the affair she expected, it was a nightmare.
Cassandra was leaning on her husband alright, but she wasn't leaning into Julian out of affection. She was sagging against him because her legs were giving out and she couldn't stand, literally.
Julian’s hands weren't caressing her, they were clamped firmly over her side, and even in the dim amber light of the chandelier, Elena could see the dark, wet stain spreading across his white dress shirt.
Blood.
"Julian..." Cassandra gasped, her head lulling back. "I told you they were waiting. The perimeter was compromised."
"Don't talk," Julian commanded. "Keep your hand on the pressure point or you'll bleed out!"
Elena scrambled back into the shadows of the hallway as they moved toward the study.
She pressed her back against the cold wallpaper, her heart hammering so hard she was sure they could hear it.
She watched through the tiny space of the doorway as Julian practically carried the bleeding woman up the stairs.
"I warned you, Cassandra," Julian hissed. "I told you that approaching the South Side sector was a death sentence. You didn't listen."
"I had to get the drive," Cassandra choked out. "He was going to erase it. They’re coming for the prototype and they’re coming for you."
Elena felt like she was listening to gibberish. Prototype? None of the words made sense.
Still, she wanted to learn more. She waited until the heavy oak door of Julian’s study slammed shut then she crept toward the door, her bare feet silent on the hardwood.
She remembered the last time she had tried to get in here, her fingerprint was able to open the biometric lock.
She pressed it to the scanner and the light flickered from red to a soft, inviting green as the lock clicked.
Elena pushed the door open just an inch and found that the study was empty.
Her brow furrowed. She had seen them come in here.
There was no other exit and no windows that weren't reinforced steel.
She stepped inside and could smell the copper of blood and the female perfume that wasn't hers.
“They came in here just now," she mused.
Then looked closed and on the floor, near the massive built-in mahogany bookshelves, was a trail of red droplets.
The trail stopped abruptly at the third shelf.
Elena approached it, she remembered the day she had snooped in here, finding the keypad hidden behind a leather-bound book. She reached out, her fingers trembling as she touched the hidden panel.
She recalled Julian's obsession with her and quickly punched in her own birthday.
Elena didn't think because she knew that if she stopped to think, she would run out of the house and never look back.
Instead, she stepped into the cold air of the tunnel.
The passage sloped downward and as she moved, she could hear voices echoing up the corridor, bouncing off the concrete walls.
"The internal bleeding is significant," Julian’s voice was a little louder here. "I’m going to have to cauterize the entry wound. The bullet is still lodged near the iliac crest."
"Just do it," Cassandra groaned. "I’ve had worse. Remember the Kiev extraction?"
"Kiev was a playground compared to this," Julian snapped. "You were sloppy and you let a tracker get within twenty yards."
Elena reached the end of the tunnel and stopped behind a heavy glass partition.
Her jaw dropped.
She wasn't in a basement. She was in a state-of-the-art medical theater. The room was blindingly white, filled with chrome equipment, monitors displaying rapid-fire streams of data, and rows of surgical tools that looked like they belonged in a sci-fi movie.
Julian had Cassandra laid out on a stainless-steel operating table. He had already stripped off his blood-soaked shirt.
His back was to Elena, and for the first time, she saw the full extent of the "scars" she had noticed in bed. They weren't just scars. Across his shoulder blades were dark spots she couldn't explain.
He pulled on surgical gloves and pulled a mask over his face.
"The sedation won't hold long," Julian warned. "Your metabolism is too high because of the enhancements. You have three minutes of unconsciousness before the pain kicks in, so hold still."
Elena stood frozen behind the glass, her hands pressed to her mouth to keep from screaming.
This was the man she had slept next to. This was the man who had tucked her in and brought her breakfast. He wasn't just a lawyer with a dark past. He was a surgeon, some kind of secret soldier, and something else entirely.
"Why..." Cassandra muttered, her eyes fluttering as the anesthesia took hold. "Why do you stay in this city Julian? You could lead us. You're the perfect weapon."
Julian paused and looked down at the woman on the table, and for a split second, he looked nostalgic.
"Because Elena's here. And I must protect her," Julian whispered. His words were so low that Elena almost missed it.
Then he turned back to the wound and began the surgery.
Elena backed away from the glass, her head spinning.
She was a stranger in her own life. This house, this fortress, wasn't a home. It was like a laboratory or bunker. And the man she was falling for wasn't a man she could explain.
She turned and ran back up the tunnel quietly. She reached the study and closed the bookshelf behind her.
For a second, her legs couldn't move. She collapsed into Julian’s leather desk chair, gasping.
"Who are you?" she whispered to the empty room.
She realized then that Francis and his sex tapes were the least of her problems.
She was married to a ghost who operated a secret hospital under their bedroom, a man who spoke of "Kiev extractions" and "prototypes" like they were some sort of daily life terms.
But as the shock began to settle, a new, even more terrifying thought took hold. If Julian was hiding all this from here, then what else was he hiding?
She looked at her hands, still shaking. She had come downstairs to end the "madness" of an affair. Instead, she had walked straight into the heart of a secret that made her family’s financial ruin look like a joke.
She heard the faint sound of the doors opening in the tunnel.
“He is coming back,” she gasped.
Elena scrambled out of the chair and bolted for the door, slipping out into the hallway just as the study floor began to vibrate.
She didn't stop until she was back in her room, the door locked.
She crawled under the covers, pulling them up to her chin, staring at the door.
She waited for the sound of his footsteps. She waited to see if the "perfect husband" would come back to check on her, his hands still smelling of antiseptic and blood.
She had the money from Eva. She had a way out of the blackmail. But as she lay there in the dark, Elena realized she was no longer sure if she wanted to run away from her past or embrace it instead of this new reality.