Chapter 8: ”The Room Next Door”
742 Words
Ariana stood in the hallway long after Damien disappeared upstairs.
Her eyes remained fixed on the dark corridor leading to the west wing.
Something from my past.
What could possibly be so important that he had an entire wing of his mansion locked away?
And why did Damien look different whenever he talked about the past?
She took one step toward the corridor.
Then another.
Her fingers had almost reached the doorknob when—
“Miss Brooks.”
Ariana jumped.
Edwin stood behind her.
She quickly withdrew her hand.
“Yes?”
His expression was unusually serious.
“Mr. Moretti gave you three rules.”
“I know.”
“Then I suggest you follow them.”
Ariana frowned.
“Do you know what’s inside?”
Edwin looked toward the locked door.
For a moment, something like sadness crossed his face.
“I know enough.”
“And?”
He shook his head.
“Some doors are locked for a reason.”
Before Ariana could ask another question, he walked away.
She stared after him.
“Everyone in this house is mysterious.”
⸻
Later that night, Ariana entered her new bedroom.
It was beautiful.
Far too beautiful.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the gardens. A massive bed sat in the center of the room, surrounded by soft lights and elegant furniture.
But something immediately caught her attention.
A connecting door.
It stood between her bedroom and the room beside it.
Damien’s room.
Ariana stared at it.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
She walked over and tried the handle.
Locked.
“Of course.”
She turned away.
Then heard a soft sound from the other side.
Ariana froze.
Was someone there?
She moved closer.
Nothing.
Then—
Knock. Knock.
She jumped backward.
“Damien?”
No answer.
She opened her door.
Damien stood outside.
His tie was loosened, his sleeves rolled up, and his normally perfect appearance looked slightly disheveled.
He held a glass of water.
“Why are you standing outside my door?”
Ariana blinked.
“I heard something.”
“What?”
“From the connecting door.”
His eyes immediately moved toward it.
His expression changed.
Just slightly.
But Ariana noticed.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
His gaze returned to hers.
“You’ve known me for less than twenty-four hours.”
“And I’ve already caught you lying.”
A brief silence.
Then Damien walked past her.
He placed the glass on her bedside table.
“Lock your door tonight.”
Ariana frowned.
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
“Damien”
He stopped at the doorway.
“Goodnight, Ariana.”
Then he left.
She watched him disappear.
Something was wrong.
She could feel it.
⸻
At 2:17 a.m., Ariana woke to a noise.
A faint crash came from downstairs.
She sat upright.
Her heart began racing.
Another sound.
This time, louder.
Someone was inside the house.
Ariana grabbed her phone.
She quietly opened her bedroom door.
The hallway was dark.
She stepped outside.
Then she saw him.
Damien stood at the bottom of the staircase.
His back was toward her.
He wasn’t alone.
Two security guards surrounded a man who was kneeling on the marble floor.
Ariana’s breath caught.
The stranger’s face was bleeding.
“Who is he?” she whispered.
Damien immediately looked up.
Their eyes met.
His expression hardened.
“Ariana.”
She descended one step.
“What happened?”
“Go back upstairs.”
“Who is that?”
Damien walked toward her.
“Now.”
She had never heard his voice like that before.
Not angry.
Not loud.
Just final.
She stopped.
Then the stranger suddenly laughed.
A cold, terrifying laugh.
He lifted his head toward Ariana.
And whispered:
“Five years…”
Ariana’s blood ran cold.
The stranger smiled.
“…and you still don’t remember me?”
Damien’s face went completely still.
“Take him away.”
The guards dragged the man toward the door.
But Ariana couldn’t move.
She stared at Damien.
“What did he mean?”
Damien said nothing.
“Damien.”
Still nothing.
She stepped closer.
“Who was that?”
He looked at her.
For the first time since she’d met him…
She saw fear in his eyes.
Not fear for himself.
Fear for her.
And then he said something that made her heart stop.
“Someone who should have died five years ago.”
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