CHAPTER FOUR:THE ENEMY INSIDE
1855 Words
The first thought that hits me is irrational.
He’s behind me.
The second is worse.
He’s already been here.
I turn slowly.
The hallway beyond Sebastian’s office stretches empty and silent, lights dimmed to a warm evening glow. Too calm. Too normal. The kind of normal that only exists right before something goes wrong.
Sebastian doesn’t move.
Julian’s voice still echoes from the wall panel. “Sir?”
Sebastian lifts a hand, silencing him.
His eyes never leave the doorway.
“Lock down the floor,” he says quietly. “All internal cameras. Thermal and biometric sweep.”
“Yes, sir.”
The panel darkens.
Sebastian finally shifts.
He moves in front of me not touching, but placing himself between me and the open door. The gesture is instinctive. Protective.
It unsettles me more than fear.
“Stay,” he says.
I nod.
He steps out into the hallway.
The moment he leaves my line of sight, the office feels too large. The glass walls reflect a dozen versions of me,white dress long gone, now wrapped in soft grey fabric, gold mask catching the light.
A bride in a house full of secrets.
The lights flicker.
Once.
Twice.
My heart stutters.
Then the world changes.
The soft glow snaps to emergency white. A low hum vibrates through the floor. Somewhere deeper in the penthouse, a door seals with a heavy metallic sound.
Sebastian’s voice carries from down the hall. “Who’s here?”
No answer.
The hum deepens.
The kind that vibrates in bone.
I step closer to the doorway despite myself.
“Sebastian?” I call.
He doesn’t answer.
A distant sound drifts down the corridor.
Footsteps.
Not his.
Lighter.
Faster.
Running.
My pulse spikes.
I move into the hallway.
The corridor curves toward the residential wing. The lights are brighter here, almost clinical. My bare feet make no sound against the polished floor.
“Sebastian,” I whisper again.
A shadow darts at the far end.
I freeze.
Someone is there.
They know the house.
They move like they belong in it.
I back up slowly.
My shoulder brushes the wall.
Then a hand clamps over my mouth.
I scream,but no sound escapes.
I thrash, heart slamming, as a body presses close behind me.
“Don’t,” a voice breathes near my ear. “Don’t make noise.”
It’s a woman.
My breath shudders.
Her grip tightens painfully. “He’s not the only one watching you.”
Tears sting my eyes.
“What do you want?” I whisper against her palm.
“To save you from him.”
A lie.
I feel it.
She shifts.
Her hand loosens—
The hallway explodes.
Sebastian appears from the side corridor, moving with brutal speed. His arm hooks around the woman’s throat, ripping her away from me. She stumbles, gasping, as he slams her against the wall.
Alarms erupt.
Julian’s voice blasts from hidden speakers.
“Contact on residential wing. Armed response en route.”
Sebastian pins the woman, forearm crushing her airway.
She claws at his arm.
“Who sent you?” he demands.
She laughs.
Thin.
Broken.
“You already know.”
Sebastian tightens his grip.
Her face reddens.
“Sebastian!” I cry.
His jaw flexes.
Then he releases her.
She collapses to her knees, coughing violently.
Sebastian steps back only far enough to draw a sleek black pistol from beneath his jacket.
“Answer,” he says, aiming it calmly. “Or don’t leave this floor.”
The woman lifts her head slowly.
Her eyes find me.
Not him.
“You shouldn’t have married him,” she says hoarsely. “He’s the reason they’re all dead.”
My stomach drops.
“Who?” I whisper.
She smiles at me.
Sad.
Knowing.
“The ones who tried to stop what’s coming.”
Sebastian steps forward. “Enough.”
She laughs again. “You think locking doors makes you safe? You think money buys control?” Her gaze flicks back to me. “He didn’t bring you here to protect you.”
She pushes herself shakily to her feet.
“He brought you here because you were already in it.”
Security floods the hallway black-clad, weapons drawn. Julian strides in, eyes assessing, cold and fast.
“Detain her,” Sebastian orders.
They move.
The woman doesn’t resist.
As they pull her past me, she leans close.
Her whisper ghosts across my ear.
“They know about your brother.”
Ice pierces my spine.
“They know where he is,” she adds softly.
Then she’s gone.
The penthouse doesn’t return to normal.
Not really.
Even after the alarms fall silent. Even after Sebastian’s men sweep every inch of the floor. Even after Julian reports all clear.
The air remains charged.
Like a storm held inside glass.
Sebastian dismisses everyone but Julian.
Then he turns to me.
“Are you hurt?”
The question catches me off guard.
“No,” I say.
He studies me carefully.
As if cataloguing damage.
Julian clears his throat. “She accessed the penthouse using an internal clearance ghosted through a shell company. Professional. Not a random intruder.”
Sebastian nods. “And the phone?”
“Still pinging intermittently,” Julian replies. “Same signal. Same internal loop.”
Sebastian’s gaze hardens.
“Find the leak,” he says.
Julian hesitates. “There’s something else.”
Sebastian’s eyes flick to him.
Julian looks at me.
Then back at Sebastian.
“The woman,” he says, “was carrying this.”
He extends a small sealed evidence pouch.
Inside is a folded scrap of paper.
Sebastian takes it.
Opens it.
Reads.
His expression changes.
Not anger.
Not shock.
Something darker.
“What is it?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer.
Instead, he hands it to me.
My fingers tremble as I unfold it.
It is a photograph.
Old.
Grainy.
A street shot taken at night.
Three figures stand beneath a flickering
Two men.
And a girl.
Young.
Thin.
Dark hair pulled into a messy knot.
She is turned half away from the camera.
But I know her.
I know the curve of that shoulder.
The scar near the hairline.
My knees weaken.
It’s me.
From three years ago.
At the bridge.
Across the bottom, written in black ink, are four words:
SHE REMEMBERS WHAT YOU DID.
The room spins.
“I didn’t do anything,” I whisper.
Sebastian’s voice is low. “Someone wants me to believe you did.”
He takes the photo back.
Studies it.
“They’ve been watching you longer than I have,” he says.
Fear coils in my stomach.
“They threatened my brother.”
“Yes,” Sebastian says.
“And now they’ve crossed a line.”
He steps closer.
His presence blocks out the rest of the world.
“You are under my protection,” he says. “Fully.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“It means,” he replies, “no more half-measures.”
He lifts a hand.
For a heartbeat, I think he’s going to remove the mask.
Instead, he cups my cheek.
Gently.
Firmly.
The contact sends a shock through me.
“You don’t leave my sight,” he says. “You don’t sleep alone. You don’t take a step in this house without me knowing where you are.”
My breath catches.
“That’s not protection,” I whisper.
“That’s control.”
He doesn’t deny it.
“It’s survival.”
He moves me to a different bedroom.
Smaller.
More secure.
Steel-reinforced walls. No external windows. Private surveillance hub embedded in one side.
A safe room.
Sebastian stands at the door as I step inside.
“You can rest,” he says. “I’ll be outside.”
“You’re not staying?” The words escape before I can stop them.
Something flickers across his face.
Then he enters.
Closes the door behind him.
“Lie down,” he says quietly.
I do.
The bed is warm. Recently used.
My heart skids at the thought.
Sebastian removes his jacket. Sets the gun on a nearby surface. Then he sits on the edge of the bed.
Close.
Not touching.
But there.
Silence stretches.
My body shakes now that the danger has passed.
He notices.
He always notices.
“You were brave,” he says.
I let out a broken laugh. “I was terrified.”
“Bravery often is.”
I turn my head toward him.
“Who do you think she was?” I ask.
“Someone who knows the truth,” he answers. “Or someone trained to sell a convincing version of it.”
“And which is worse?”
He doesn’t answer immediately.
Then: “The one who knows.”
My fingers clutch the sheet.
“Do you think I was involved?” I whisper.
Sebastian looks at me.
Really looks.
“For the first time,” he says, “I don’t think you were a player.”
My breath shudders.
“What do you think I was?”
His voice drops.
“Bait.”
The word lands heavy.
“They didn’t put you near that bridge by accident,” he continues. “They didn’t let you live by mistake. And they didn’t let you fade.”
He leans closer.
“They built a story around you. And now they’re pulling it tight.”
My pulse pounds.
“I don’t want to be part of this.”
“You already are.”
I close my eyes.
A tear slips free beneath the edge of the mask.
Sebastian’s hand rises.
This time, he doesn’t stop at my cheek.
His thumb brushes the wetness.
The gentleness of it breaks something in me.
“I won’t let them touch you again,” he says.
The words are not soft.
They are a vow.
Then his phone vibrates.
He stills.
Checks it.
His expression changes again.
Sharp.
Controlled.
Dangerous.
“What?” I ask.
He lowers the phone.
“They’ve made their next move.”
My chest tightens. “What is it?”
“They transferred your brother,” he says.
Relief surges. “To the facility?”
“No,” he replies.
My hope shatters.
“To a private location.”
I sit up. “That’s what you said before.”
“Yes,” Sebastian says.
“And this time… they didn’t use my people.”
Cold floods me.
“What are you saying?”
His jaw tightens.
“I’m saying,” he replies, “someone intercepted the transfer.”
My breath leaves in a rush.
“Do they have him?”
Sebastian meets my eyes.
“They want you to believe they do.”
My voice breaks. “And you?”
“I think,” he says quietly, “they want to see what you’ll trade to get him back.”
Silence crashes down.
Then Sebastian adds the sentence that turns my blood to ice:
“And the message they sent with the reroute…”
He pauses.
“…was addressed to you.”
I clutch the sheets.
“What did it say?”
His gaze darkens.
“Take off the mask.”
- Writer
