wrongfully owned by noah Zhang

chapter 5

The flimsy lock on the servant's quarters door clicked shut, and that was all it took. Octavia's legs buckled. She slid down the wood until her ass hit the cold floor, damp uniform clinging to her skin, throat still burning from earlier.

She cried like s**t. No graceful tears, just ugly, heaving sobs that made her chest hurt. Everything she'd shoved down for weeks came rushing up: her mother's sunken eyes in that expensive care facility, the way she'd grabbed Octavia's hand and whispered, "You have to fix this. I can't die because of my mistakes." Three million dollars. That was the hole her mother had dug with bad deals and worse choices. Silas had offered a way out-kill Noah Zhang, and the debt dies with him. No more payments needed. Just one life for another.

Now Octavia was trapped in a monster's house with bruises blooming around her neck and less than forty-eight hours to actually go through with it.

A heavy thud against the door made her flinch hard. The handle rattled.

"Open up, you pathetic little rat," Elena hissed from the hallway.

Octavia wiped her face fast, trying to scrub away the evidence. She cracked the door an inch.

Elena wasn't alone. Two other maids stood behind her, arms crossed, faces twisted with the same mix of fear and hatred.

"You think getting dragged around by the Master makes you special?" Elena shoved the door wider and stepped inside. The small room suddenly felt too tight. "Ever since you showed up, things have been going wrong. Fires. Missing things. Him watching everyone twice as hard. If you keep snooping around, drawing his eyes, we won't wait for him to snap. We'll deal with you ourselves and bury what's left in the back garden."

Elena leaned in close enough that Octavia could smell her floral perfume. "Stay out of places you don't belong."

They left as suddenly as they'd come. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving a heavier silence than before.

Octavia sat on the edge of her narrow bed for a long minute, breathing through her mouth. No more fear. Just a cold, clear decision. She knelt by her suitcase, fingers working the hidden seam in the lining until they closed around the small amber vial. Fast-acting toxin. Colorless. Almost tasteless. Silas had pressed it into her palm the night he gave her the order: Slip it in his drink. Make it look natural. Do it clean.

Her hand shook as she stared at the glass. She pictured dropping it into his nightly scotch. Or his morning espresso. One small movement and her mother would be free. She would be free.

She stood up, jaw tight, and took one step toward the door.

The door exploded inward with a crack of splintering wood.

Three men in black tactical gear stormed the room. No words. One grabbed her by the hair and yanked her up. Another twisted her arms behind her back so hard her shoulders screamed.

"Wait-please! I haven't done anything!" Octavia thrashed, bare feet scraping the floor. "I'm just a maid!"

They didn't answer. They dragged her through the marble hallways, past wide-eyed servants who quickly looked away, and out into the cold night air of the garden.

Noah Zhang waited by the stone fountain. Moonlight made his white shirt glow like a ghost. His head of security stood beside him, murmuring into an earpiece.

"There's a spy in my house," Noah said. His voice was quiet, but it carried. He still hadn't looked directly at her. "Someone leaked frequencies. My movements are being tracked. And the new girl keeps turning up in rooms she has no business being in."

"I'm not a spy!" Octavia's voice cracked as they forced her to her knees on the damp grass. "I don't know anything about codes or frequencies. I got lost, that's all. Please-"

Noah finally turned his head. The flat, empty look in his eyes made her stomach drop. "Take her to interrogation. Let's find out exactly how much she's willing to pay to keep her secrets."

They hauled her down into the basement levels, through heavy steel doors, into a room that smelled of old blood, ozone, and fear. One bare bulb hung over a bolted metal chair. Soundproof. Windowless. Professional.

As the guards shoved her into the seat and tightened the restraints, Octavia felt the vial still clutched in her sweaty palm. If they found it, she was dead. No questions. In the few seconds while they adjusted the straps, she twisted her wrist and flicked the glass. It slid across the floor with a tiny clink and disappeared into the narrow gap between the raised metal plates.

The heavy door clanged shut.

Noah watched from behind a thick glass partition, nothing but a dark silhouette. The lead interrogator leaned in close, breath sour with tobacco.

"Who do you work for?" he barked, slamming a hand on the metal table. "Silas? The Venzagrase family? How did you get the access codes?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Octavia whispered. Her voice shook, but she kept her eyes on the floor. "I'm just here because of a debt. My mother owes money. That's all. I'm not the one you're looking for."

The man reached for a set of thick leather straps. "Lie again and you won't speak another word."

Octavia lifted her gaze through the glass and met Noah's eyes. She repeated the words like a prayer in her head: "Keep quiet. Survive. Just survive."

Noah's fingers tapped a slow, steady rhythm against the glass. He didn't look