Beneath The Gilded Floor

Chapter 5: Come Back

"Well… I guess? Who would I be with? I am future Mrs. Everton, right? Hahahaha"

.

A low, smooth laugh escaped Cassius's lips, and he leaned down, pressing a deliberate, possessive kiss to her temple before pulling back to look into her eyes with absolute, unshakeable certainty.

"You are, Natalia," he murmured, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw with a touch that was as tender as it was confining. "There won't ever be anyone else. You'll be right here, sharing every triumph and every corner of this estate with me. Now, come along—let's head back inside before the sun drops. You still need to retrieve your phone from the library anyway."

***

The rough, freezing bricks scraped cruelly against Hansel's shoulders and knees as he clawed his way up through the narrow, suffocating cavity behind the mansion's walls. The air down there was thick with decades of undisturbed dust, making him cough violently, but he muffled the sound against his forearm, pressing forward with a manic, obsessive frenzy.

.

“Closer.”

He could hear the muffled, resonant vibrations of Cassius’s deep voice filtering down through the plaster, followed instantly by the light, musical sound of her laughter. Every scrape, every bruise on his skin felt like nothing compared to the roaring wildfire of adrenaline and desire burning through his veins.

He reached a dead end in the vertical shaft—right behind the heavy wainscoting of the private library wall. Through a hairline c***k in the carved wood paneling, a thin, warm beam of afternoon sunlight shot straight into the dark cavity, illuminating floating specks of dust.

Hansel pressed his eye directly against the narrow fissure.

And there it was—resting right on the mahogany writing table just a few feet away, illuminated by the golden rays of the sun—her phone. The screen glowing softly, unattended, waiting.

His breath hitched, a wild, breathless giggle bubbling up in his throat as his fingers pressed against the hidden interior latch of the wall panel. He told you to come back and get it, he whispered silently into the wood, a feverish grin stretching across his face. Let's see if you're ready for what's waiting in the dark.

***

"Yes. I’ll go restroom too! I’ve been drink lots of milkshakes today hahaha! Wait for me!! We’ll go get dinner after! Hihihi"

She made her way back into the mansion, her footsteps guiding her toward the familiar doors of the library.

Cassius let out an indulgent, low chuckle, shaking his head with mild amusement as she pulled away from him on the garden path.

"Milkshakes all afternoon? You really are impossible," he murmured, his gaze following her every move as she turned and headed back toward the glass doors of the mansion. "Fine. Go take care of your phone and your restroom break, Natalia. But don't keep me waiting too long out here in the cold. I'll be right here by the rose terrace when you get back."

He watched her slip back inside, the heavy glass doors closing behind her, sealing her once again within the immaculate, orderly walls of his estate—completely unaware of the shadow shifting behind the wainscoting.

.

Thump. Thump.

The light, unmistakable tap of heels echoed across the hardwood floor of the library, sounding like drops of heavy rain falling directly onto Hansel's skin.

His heart leaped straight into his throat, hammering a frantic, deafening rhythm against his ribs. Through the hairline c***k in the wood paneling, he saw the golden light shift as her shadow fell across the mahogany writing table.

.

“You're here. You came right back, just like I knew you would.”

His trembling fingers wrapped around the hidden interior latch of the wall panel behind the bookshelf. The old wood groaned softly, a barely audible creak swallowed completely by the ambient sounds of the cavernous room. With a slow, agonizingly careful push, the carved wooden wainscoting popped inward by a fraction of an inch, opening a dark, breathing seam right beside the table where her glowing phone rested unattended.

His breath hitched, hot and ragged, slipping through the c***k as his eyes locked onto her through the shadows.

She was standing right there, alone in the quiet stillness of the library, her back turned just enough as she reached for her belongings. The silence stretched out between them, thick with anticipation, waiting to be shattered.

As she grabbed her phone, she noticed a flurry of missed messages and calls flashing across the screen. Frowning slightly, she leaned back against the edge of the table, her fingers tapping continuously and rapidly on the glass surface to fire off quick replies before making her way out.

The faint, rhythmic tap-tap-tap of her thumbs striking her phone screen vibrated softly through the heavy silence of the library, right against the hidden seam where Hansel was pressed.

Through the narrow c***k in the dark wainscoting, he could see the sharp, cool glow of the display reflecting in her wide, distracted eyes. She looked so small against the backdrop of Cassius's towering bookshelves, completely absorbed in her little digital world, entirely vulnerable.

His breathing turned shallow and ragged, the air in the narrow cavity burning his lungs. Every second she stood there, lingering over her messages, was an eternity of exquisite torture. His fingers curled tightly against the edge of the wood paneling, the temptation to push it open—to reach out from the dark and brush against the hem of her coat—shaking him to his very core.

Don't leave yet... he prayed silently, a feverish, desperate heat rising under his skin as he watched her posture shift against the edge of the mahogany table. Just stay a little longer. Let me breathe you in.

***

Cassius stood motionless by the edge of the rose terrace, his hands resting lightly in his pockets as the late afternoon breeze rustled through the manicured hedges. His gaze remained fixed on the tall glass doors leading back into the mansion, watching the shadows shift across the empty hallway.

A faint frown touched the corner of his mouth, the smooth amusement in his chest tightening into a low, restless hum.

"Taking your time, Natalia," he murmured softly to the empty garden air, checking the sleek watch on his wrist.

A woman in his world did not wander off schedule. Even a simple trip for a phone and a restroom should have its boundaries. But as the seconds stretched on, a quiet, cold suspicion began to stir behind his eyes—the absolute need to ensure that every variable in his house was exactly where it belonged.