chapter 4: The Name On the Wall
1464 Words
Emma’s fingers trembled as she pushed the door open wider.
The name SARAH was scratched into the walls over and over—some marks fresh, others faded with time.
The room smelled of dust and something else… something metallic.
She stepped inside, her breath shallow. A cold draft wrapped around her like unseen hands.
There was something about this room. Something wrong.
She turned, running her fingers along the jagged letters. Who was Sarah?
And what happened to her?
Creak.
A sound from behind.
Emma spun, heart slamming into her ribs.
A shadow stood at the doorway.
For a moment, she thought it was Adrian.
But it wasn’t.
It was Victor.
Leaning casually against the doorframe, his sharp gaze drifting over the room before settling on her.
"Ah," he murmured, lips curling. "You found Sarah’s room."
Emma’s throat tightened.
So he knew.
Victor stepped inside, his boots clicking against the wooden floor. He traced a finger over the scratched-out name, his smirk deepening.
"Do you know why her name is here?" he asked softly.
Emma swallowed hard. "No."
Victor tilted his head, watching her like a predator watching prey.
"Because she never left."
The air turned ice cold.
Emma took a slow step back. "What do you mean?"
Victor let out a low chuckle. "You’ll find out soon enough, little dove."
And then, before she could say anything else, he was gone, slipping back into the shadows of the hallway.
Leaving her alone… with the name carved into the walls.
---
A Warning From the Devil Himself
The next morning, Emma found herself in Adrian’s office—right on time.
But her mind was elsewhere.
Sarah.
What did Victor mean by she never left?
Was she… dead?
Or was she still here, somewhere in the mansion?
She barely noticed Adrian’s gaze locked onto her from across his desk.
“You look tired.”
Emma snapped back to reality. “I didn’t sleep well.”
Adrian leaned back in his chair, studying her. “Because of Victor?”
Her stomach twisted. Was it that obvious?
“I saw something,” she admitted cautiously. “A name. Sarah.”
Adrian’s expression didn’t change.
But something flickered in his eyes.
"You shouldn’t go wandering at night," he said finally.
Emma bristled. "Are you warning me, or threatening me?"
Adrian’s lips curved into a dark smile.
"Both."
-----
A Dance with the Devil.
Emma’s heart pounded as Adrian’s words sank in.
"Both."
It was a warning. A challenge.
But beneath the cold exterior, there was something else—a glimmer of possessiveness that sent a shiver down her spine.
“Why do you care?” she whispered, testing him.
Adrian’s gaze darkened. “Because you belong to me now.”
The words sent a confusing thrill through her. He wasn’t just talking about the job.
Before she could respond, there was a knock at the door.
Adrian sighed and leaned back. “Enter.”
The door swung open, and Victor stepped inside.
Emma stiffened. Why did he always appear at the worst moments?
Victor’s gaze flicked between them, his smirk growing. “Am I interrupting something?”
Adrian didn’t answer.
Victor chuckled and turned to Emma. “Did my dear brother tell you about the ball tonight?”
Emma blinked. “Ball?”
Victor tilted his head, amused. “Ah. He didn’t.”
Adrian shot him a glare but sighed. “It’s an annual event. Business partners, investors… a formality.”
Victor grinned. “And, of course, Adrian needs a date.”
Emma’s stomach flipped.
Was Victor suggesting…?
Adrian’s eyes met hers. “You’ll come with me.”
A command, not a request.
Emma swallowed. “I—I don’t have anything to wear.”
Victor smirked. “Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll take care of that.”
The way he said it sent a chill down her spine.
What was she getting herself into?
---
A Night of Secrets.
Hours later, Emma stood in front of the mirror, barely recognizing herself.
The gown was deep crimson, hugging her curves perfectly, with a slit running up her leg. It was bold. Too bold.
She touched the fabric, her nerves kicking in.
Why did Adrian want her to come? To show her off? To keep her close? Or… something else?
A knock on the door.
She turned as Adrian stepped in, his gaze sweeping over her.
For the first time, she saw something flicker in his expression. Approval. Desire.
“You clean up well,” he said, his voice lower than usual.
Emma crossed her arms. “Is that a compliment?”
Adrian stepped closer, his scent—dark and intoxicating—surrounding her. “It’s a fact.”
Her heart pounded as his fingers brushed a stray curl from her face. The touch was light, almost tender.
Dangerous.
“Stay close to me tonight,” he murmured.
Emma swallowed. “Why?”
Adrian’s lips barely parted, but before he could answer—
Victor appeared in the doorway.
“Ready, lovebirds?”
The moment shattered.
Adrian’s jaw tightened as he turned away.
Emma exhaled, feeling a strange mix of disappointment and relief.
Tonight was going to be far more dangerous than she had imagined.
---
A Night of Secrets
The grand ballroom was alive with glowing chandeliers, soft classical music, and the murmurs of wealth and power.
Emma felt out of place the moment she stepped inside, her fingers tightening around Adrian’s arm.
His grip was firm, possessive. A silent message to the crowd.
She was with him.
Whispers followed them.
"Who is she?"
"Adrian Blackwood never brings dates."
"She must be special."
Emma’s stomach knotted. Was this all just for show? Or did Adrian truly want her here?
She barely had time to process before Victor appeared at her side, offering his hand.
“Dance with me.”
Emma hesitated, glancing at Adrian. His jaw clenched, but he said nothing.
Victor smirked. “Oh, don’t look so guilty. He doesn’t own you.”
The challenge was clear.
Emma swallowed hard and placed her hand in Victor’s.
---
Dancing with the Devil
Victor led her onto the dance floor, moving with effortless grace.
His hand pressed against her back, his touch lighter than Adrian’s—but no less dangerous.
“You look nervous,” he murmured.
Emma forced a small smile. “Should I be?”
Victor chuckled. “Perhaps.”
His thumb brushed against her waist, lingering just a second too long. Emma’s heart skipped.
She wasn’t naïve.
Victor was testing her. Testing Adrian.
But before she could react, his lips tilted in amusement.
“You should be careful, Emma,” he whispered. “You’re stepping into a game far bigger than you realize.”
She shivered. “What game?”
Victor twirled her once before pulling her closer, his breath warm against her ear.
“The same one that took Sarah.”
Emma froze.
Sarah.
Victor leaned back, his eyes gleaming. “You’re not the first girl to stand beside my brother.”
Emma’s pulse thundered. “What happened to her?”
Victor tilted his head. “Why don’t you ask Adrian?”
And just like that, he let her go.
She stumbled back, her heart pounding.
Before she could gather her thoughts, Adrian was there.
Without a word, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her away from the dance floor.
---
The Storm Beneath His Skin
They stopped in a dimly lit hallway, away from the prying eyes of the crowd.
Adrian’s grip on her wrist was tight. Too tight.
“You shouldn’t have danced with him,” he said, his voice like a low growl.
Emma yanked her arm free, anger bubbling in her chest. “Why? Because you said so?”
Adrian’s eyes darkened. “Because he’s dangerous.”
Emma exhaled, shaking her head. “And you’re not?”
Silence.
Then, without warning, Adrian stepped closer, pinning her against the cold wall.
Her breath hitched.
His hand rested just above her waist, his body close—too close.
His scent, his warmth, the tension between them—it was overwhelming.
“Don’t push me, Emma,” he murmured.
But Emma wasn’t afraid.
She looked up, meeting his gaze, her pulse racing.
“You keep warning me about Victor, about this house… but you never tell me the truth.”
Adrian’s jaw tensed.
She reached up, touching his face.
The moment she did, something in him broke.
Adrian lowered his head, his lips brushing against her jaw—slow, hesitant.
Her skin burned where he touched her.
She should pull away. But she didn’t.
Because for the first time, Adrian wasn’t the cold, untouchable man she thought he was.
He was something else.
Something dangerous, broken, and heartbreakingly human.
And she wanted to know more.
- Writer
