Chapter ten:Cracks in control
859 Words
Chapter Ten
Cracks in Control
Gianna’s POV
Later that morning the house still felt the same—too smooth, too ordered, like nothing ever spilled or got left out of place. I walked the halls without a real destination. People passed me without looking. Staff, security, whoever they were. Their eyes slid past like I was furniture someone had put in the wrong room.
I kept going, not really thinking about where the corridor led until I realised no one had shown me this part of the house. The air felt different here—cooler, with a faint electronic hum under everything. Double doors stood half-open at the end. Inside, screens glowed and a map covered most of one wall. Same kind of setup as the room downstairs, only tighter. More focused.
I stepped in.
A man near the door straightened immediately. “Miss.” His voice was polite but firm. “This area’s restricted.”
I didn’t move back right away. “I’m just looking.”
“I understand. Still restricted.”
He stood there, solid. No raised voice. No reach for me. Presence was enough. My jaw tightened before I even realised it. I turned to leave and nearly walked into Zayden.
He was already there, leaning against the wall outside like he’d been waiting. No dramatic entrance. Present.
“You said I wasn’t locked in,” I said.
He pushed off the wall. “You’re not. You’re also not free to walk into every room in this house. There’s a difference.”
“Feels the same from where I’m standing.”
He looked at me for a second, then nodded toward another door farther down. “Come with me.”
I followed. Staying in that hallway with the guard watching felt worse.
He led me into a smaller room. One screen on the wall. A table with a few files. He tapped the screen and it came to life—grainy footage, night vision. A black car parked across from a familiar gate. My father’s gate. Another angle showed the same car circling the block twice. Timestamp from two nights ago.
“They’ve been there every night since you left,” Zayden said. “Different cars. Same pattern. Watching the estate. Waiting to see if you come back.”
I stared at the screen. The image was clear enough. I could almost feel the cold of that street.
“They’re not just looking,” he continued. “They’re tracking movement. Yours. Mine. Anyone connected.”
Rocco’s face came back—the way he’d stood in the dining room with his gun still in his hand, looking smaller than I’d ever seen him. My father wiping blood from his mouth and telling me to pack. If those cars were already outside the estate, going back didn’t just put me at risk.
Zayden’s voice cut in, sharper than usual. “You keep testing the edges like this is some game I’m playing with you. It’s not. People are already moving.”
I looked at him. There was a tightness around his eyes I hadn’t noticed before. Not full anger. More like he was tired of explaining the same thing.
“So what am I supposed to do?” I asked. “Sit still and wait for someone to decide I’m allowed to exist again?”
He stepped closer to the screen. I had to shift slightly to keep watching. There wasn’t enough space anymore. Not with him standing that close. I noticed it—and immediately wished I hadn’t.
“You stay alive first. The rest—we deal with after.”
I stayed where I was. Not moving closer, not stepping back either. I could hear my pulse, steady and annoying, like it refused to calm down.
He reached past me and pulled a file from the table. Opened it. One photo slid out—an old one, edges worn. A woman standing near a car, face half-turned. I recognized the shape of her even if the features had blurred in my memory.
“She left something behind,” Zayden said. “Not much. A location. A contact. We’ve been following it for months. It’s the only reason I know she’s still breathing.”
My breath caught. The photo blurred for a second. I shifted back to the screen… then to him.
“Where?” I asked.
“Not yet.” His tone stayed firm. “You get that when it’s safe. Not before.”
I had something sharp ready. It didn’t come out. The cars on the screen were still looping in my head, and the quiet refusal from the guard downstairs still sat under my skin.
“Fine,” I said. The word came out quieter than I meant. “I’ll stay. For now.”
He nodded once. No victory in it. Just acknowledgment.
I turned away from the screen. The room felt different now. Smaller. Like it was paying attention. I didn’t look back at the photo. I kept walking out into the hallway until the controlled quiet of the house settled around me again.
I didn’t trust him.
Still, I didn’t stop walking.
- Writer
