KEEP HER CLOSE

The discovery

The following morning broke with a heavy stillness blanketing the house, a silence so thick it seemed to cling to the walls. Alexander had returned the night before, his unexpected arrival catching everyone off guard everyone except Seraphina, who acted as though it was the most natural thing in the world to have her fiancé back home. She glided through the halls with an air of practiced sweetness, clinging to his arm as though she belonged there. Her smiles were syrupy, her tone light, yet something about her was too polished. Too careful. Alexander, though unreadable as always, noticed.

He sat at the long marble dining table, flipping through a document while Seraphina leaned beside him, talking about a fashion gala she wanted to host.

“I think it could really elevate the brand,” she purred, stroking his arm. “You could make the opening speech. All eyes on you. Naturally.”

Alexander gave a short nod, not looking up. “We’ll see.”

From the corner of the room, Gladys moved silently, head bowed as she cleared the table. Her eyes were red-rimmed, movements shaky. She hadn’t been able to sleep, not with the weight of Louisiana's absence suffocating her.

Alexander’s gaze flicked up briefly. “Where’s the other girl?”

Seraphina didn’t miss a beat. “Oh. Louisiana? I had her sent away. She was slacking. You wouldn't believe the things I caught her doing.”

Gladys flinched.

Alexander said nothing, but his brows pinched slightly. Sent away? Without his approval?

“Gladys,” he said sharply, not turning his head. “Is that true?”

Gladys froze. Her lips parted, then closed again. “Y-yes, sir.”

But the tremor in her voice gave her away.

Alexander stood up slowly. His eyes, dark and glinting like obsidian, swept the room. Something wasn’t adding up.

Later that evening, the house remained quiet. Too quiet. Alexander, now in his private study, couldn’t shake the weight tugging at his chest. Louisiana had been many things naïve, clumsy, stubborn but she wasn’t the type to leave without a word.

He stood abruptly.

As he stepped into the hallway, a glint near the stairs caught his eye. A tiny silver earring. One he remembered distinctly it belonged to her.

His jaw clenched.

“Gladys,” he called.

The older woman appeared almost instantly, wringing her hands in her apron.

“Where is she?”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Sir, I—”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Her voice cracked. “The basement.”

Alexander didn’t wait for another word. He turned on his heel and strode down the corridor, heart pounding, fury burning hotter with every step.

The cold metal lock clanged as he unlatched it, and the heavy basement door groaned open.

A small, weak cry echoed from the shadows.

“Louisiana?”

She flinched at the sound of her name, shrinking back into the darkness. Her body trembled, hair disheveled, eyes wide with fear. Her voice barely came out. “Is it… you?”

Alexander stepped forward, his eyes adjusting to the gloom. “What the hell happened to you?”

But Louisiana didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her throat was dry, lips cracked. She hadn’t eaten or had water in over a day.

He rushed to her, arms wrapping around her small frame. Her body was ice.

She sagged against him, too weak to speak, her fingers clinging to his shirt like a child lost in a storm.

Alexander’s face darkened. He didn’t say another word. But deep in his obsidian eyes, a storm had begun to brew.