Cracks in the ice
1116 Words
Night wrapped around the mansion like a living thing.
The rain had finally stopped, but the silence it left behind felt unnaturally heavy, like the mansion itself was listening.
Somehow, Jane stood near the tall bedroom window with her arms folded tightly across her chest, staring at the black iron gates in the distance.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop hearing the conversation from downstairs.
“She’s safer dead.”
The words kept replaying in her head no matter how hard she tried to push them away.
Richard had protected her.
But from what?
And why?
A soft clock chime somewhere in the hallway startled her from her thoughts. Midnight.
Jane sighed and stepped away from the window. Sleep refused to come. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the faces of the men downstairs—their cold expressions, the casual way they discussed death like it meant nothing.
Especially Richard. No panic. No hesitation. Justice terrifying control.
Yet somehow, that wasn’t the part bothering her most.
It was the fact that he looked exhausted.
She noticed it earlier without meaning. The faint darkness beneath his eyes. The tension in his jaw. The way his shoulders remained stiff even when standing still, like his body had forgotten how to relax.
For someone so powerful, Richard looked exhausted in a way that gas had nothing to do with sleep – as if he had spent years waiting for something terrible to happen.
Jane grabbed the thin sweater hanging near the chair and quietly slipped out of her room.
The mansion was darker at night.
Long hallways stretched endlessly beneath dim golden lights, shadows filling every corner. The expensive silence no longer felt elegant.
It felt haunted.
As Jane moved carefully downstairs, she noticed something unusual.
Light.
Faint light spilt from beneath a door near the far end of the hallway on the first floor.
Richard’s office.
She stopped immediately.
“You are never to enter my office.”
His warning echoed clearly in her head.
Jane should have walked away.
Instead, curiosity pulled her closer.
The door wasn’t fully shut this time.
It’s just slightly open.
Before common sense could stop her, she glanced inside.
Her breath caught.
The office was enormous, colder than the rest of the mansion. One entire wall was covered with security screens showing live footage from outside the property—gates, roads, hallways, entrances, and even the woods surrounding the estate.
Richard sat alone behind a dark desk, staring at the screens.
Watching. Always watching. Like relaxing simply wasn’t an option for him anymore.
The room glowed pale blue from the monitors, casting sharp shadows across his face. His sleeves were rolled slightly upward, revealing faint scars running along his forearm.
Not small scars.
Deep ones.
The kind left behind by violence.
Jane frowned unconsciously.
Richard suddenly spoke without turning around.
“If you’re going to spy on me, Jane, at least learn how to breathe quieter.”
Her stomach dropped.
Slowly, she pushed the door open farther. “How did you know I was there?”
“I know everything that happens in this house.”
The answer should have sounded arrogant.
Instead, it sounded tired.
Jane stepped carefully into the office, her eyes drifting again toward the dozens of security feeds.
“You watch these all night?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t sleep?”
Richard leaned back slightly in his chair, though his eyes never fully left the screens. “Sleeping creates opportunities.”
Jane stared at him. “That’s not normal.”
A faint smirk touched his mouth briefly.
“Neither is my life.”
Silence settled between them.
For the first time since meeting him, Jane studied him without panic clouding her thoughts.
Up close, Richard looked worse tonight.
Not weak. Never weak.
But worn down.
There was a small cut near his knuckles, like he’d hit something recently. His dark shirt was partially unbuttoned near the collar, revealing another scar near his shoulder.
Jane noticed this one immediately.
Long. Jagged. Violent.
Her eyes lingered too long.
Richard’s expression hardened instantly.
“Don’t.”
Jane blinked. “Don’t what?”
“Look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you think am broken.”
The sharpness in his voice surprised her.
“I don’t pity you,” Jane replied quietly.
Something unreadable crossed his face before disappearing just as quickly.
Jane looked back toward the security screens. “Are you expecting someone?”
“Yes.”
The simple answer chilled her.
“Those men from earlier?”
“No.”
That frightened her even more.
Jane moved closer to the screens despite herself. Tiny camera feeds displayed empty roads and dark forests surrounding the estate.
It looked less like a mansion now.
It’s more like a fortress preparing for war.
“Do you trust anyone here?” she asked softly.
Richard finally looked at her then.
Directly.
“No.”
The answer came too quickly to be rehearsed.
Too honest.
Jane folded her arms tighter. “That sounds lonely.”
For a moment, something shifted in his expression.
Small. Almost invisible.
Pain flickered across his face so quickly, Jane almost thought she imagined it. Then it vanished.
“Loneliness keeps people alive.”
Jane shook her head lightly. “That’s a terrible way to live.”
Richard stood suddenly.
The movement was so abrupt that Jane instinctively stepped backwards.
His jaw tightened dangerously.
“Trust gets people killed.” Richard snapped, the words sharper than the intended.
The cold anger in his voice filled the room instantly.
Jane froze.
Richard turned away sharply, one hand braced against the desk like he was controlling something violent beneath the surface.
“You were betrayed,” Jane said quietly.
The silence afterwards felt deadly.
Every screen continued flickering softly around them.
Richard’s shoulders went rigid.
When he finally spoke, his voice was lower than before.
“Never mention betrayal to me again.”
Jane swallowed hard.
There it was again.
That terrifying calm.
But underneath it now, she heard something else.
Hurt.
Real hurt.
Richard exhaled slowly and closed his eyes briefly, as though regretting losing control for even a second.
When he looked at her again, his expression was composed once more.
Cold. Controlled. Untouchable.
Yet the cracks were there now.
Jane had seen them.
The sleepless nights. The constant vigilance. The scars. The anger.
For the first time, Richard no longer looked like an emotionless monster standing above everyone else.
He looked like a man carrying something heavy enough to destroy him.
And somehow, seeing the broken pieces beneath his control scared her far less than it should have.
- Writer
