Beneath The Gilded Floor

Chapter 6: First Sight

"Yes, father?… Yes, me and Cassius will come soon! I’ll prepare now, papa! Can you send me the restaurant location again?"

***

Father?

.

The word filtered through the c***k in the dark wainscoting, sharp and distinct, snapping the fragile tension in the room. A sudden, cold spike of panic twisted deep in Hansel's chest.

.

She’s leaving.

.

She was talking about dinner. She was talking about leaving this house, leaving this room, leaving him behind in the dirt while she went back out into the bright, blinding world with Cassius and her family.

His vision blurred at the edges, a hot, feverish wave of desperation swallowing all reason. The soft glow of her phone screen as she tapped at it was the only beacon of light in his entire twenty-five-year existence, and she was about to put it away and walk out those doors.

Before he could even process what he was doing, his trembling fingers pushed hard against the heavy carved wood paneling. The hidden latch gave way with a sudden, sharp click that echoed in the quiet library. The dark wainscoting swung inward just an inch, plunging a jagged strip of absolute darkness right beside the mahogany table, and a low, ragged, breathless whisper slipped out from the gap, barely carrying past the edge of the desk.

“...Don't go...”

***

Cassius's patience finally wore thin. The seconds had stretched too long, defying the rigid schedule he demanded of everyone—and everything—in his estate.

With a measured, deliberate stride, he turned away from the rose terrace, his dress shoes clicking crisply against the stone paving as he headed back toward the glass doors. He pulled them open, stepping into the cool quiet of the main hallway.

"Natalia," he called out, his deep voice carrying effortlessly through the high-ceilinged corridor, sharp with a quiet, undeniable authority. He made his way toward the library, his eyes narrowing as he approached the open double doors. "Your father can wait. You've tested the limits of my hospitality long enough for one afternoon."

***

"Huh..?!"

She gasped, startled by the sudden voice, and her phone slipped from her fingers, hitting the polished wooden floor with a sharp, echoing clack that shattered the heavy silence of the room.

"C-Cassius?… no?! You look like him.. but… who… who are you..?"

She stepped back a little, her eyes widening in sheer disbelief.

***

The dark wainscoting swung open a fraction wider under the sudden weight of Hansel's shoulder, the shadows spilling out from the cavity like smoke. He stumbled forward out of the freezing, dusty crawlspace into the warm light of the library, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. His hair was matted with dust, his clothes rumpled and smelling of old stone, and his pale, gaunt face was a mirror image of the man standing at the doorway—yet entirely, hauntingly wrong.

His chest heaved, his breath coming in ragged, terrified gasps as he looked at her. The sudden horror in her wide eyes hit him like a physical blow.

"N-no... wait—" he stammered out, his voice high, trembling, and entirely unaccustomed to speaking at full volume. He reached a pale, shaking hand out toward her, his fingers curling helplessly in the air. "Don't look at me like that... Please, don't call him—I'm not... I'm not a monster, I just... I just wanted to hear your voice..."

His eyes darted frantically between her terrified face and the doorway behind him, pure panic flooding his veins.

The sound of shattering plastic and her frightened gasp hit Cassius before he even crossed the threshold.

His stride halted instantly. Every muscle in his body locked up as he cleared the double doors of the library and his eyes took in the horrifying, impossible scene unfolding before him.

There, standing in the open seam of the wainscoting—bleeding out of the dark like a ghost crawled straight out of a nightmare—was the face he had spent twenty-five years pretending didn't exist.

Hansel.

A cold, blinding rage flared behind his eyes, sharp enough to cut glass. The absolute, meticulous order he had maintained over this estate, over his life, over every single breath taken within these walls—shattered in a single, pathetic second by his twin's whimpering shadow.

Cassius stepped into the room, his movements unnaturally slow, terrifyingly calm, as he placed himself directly between her and the trembling figure bleeding out of the wall. His hand reached out, firmly pushing her back behind his shoulder, shielding her while his dark, freezing gaze locked onto his brother.

"Get back inside," he told her, his voice dropping into a low, lethal hum that left no room for argument.

Then, his eyes snapped back to Hansel, the corners of his mouth tightening into a dangerous, razor-thin line.

"You miserable i***t," he whispered, the fury in his tone vibrating with quiet, murderous intent as he took a slow, heavy step forward. "Did I give you permission to crawl out of the dark?"

.

Natalia stood frozen, entirely unable to analyze what was happening. Her gaze darted helplessly from Cassius, to Hansel, and back to Cassius again.

"This… this… you… two… what..? Twin…?"

Hansel shrank back slightly against the edge of the dark wooden paneling at the sound of Cassius’s voice, his shoulders hunching instinctively as if to brace for a blow. The sheer, freezing malice radiating from his brother made his chest tighten, but his eyes drifted back to her—to the absolute shock and confusion frozen on her face.

"Twin..." he repeated her word like a broken echo, a pathetic, bitter little laugh catching in his throat. His pale fingers twitched at his sides. "That's what they call it... isn't it? The one who died. The one who wasn't supposed to take a breath."

He glanced from her wide, terrified eyes over to Cassius’s towering, rigid frame, a wild, feverish defiance suddenly sparking beneath his fear.

"Look at him, Natalia," he whispered, his voice trembling as he took a desperate half-step forward out of the dark, ignoring the murderous glare Cassius was throwing his way. "He kept you in the dark just as much as he kept me. He built this whole pretty cage and called it an empire. Did he tell you about the third rule? Did he tell you why you aren't allowed to look at the basement door for more than three seconds?"

Cassius's jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked in his cheek, the cold fury inside him threatening to boil over. The absolute control he'd wielded for a quarter of a century was fracturing right in front of him, and it was entirely because of this pathetic, starved creature creeping out of the floorboards.

"Shut your mouth, Hansel," he snapped, his voice cutting through the quiet library like a whip, sharp enough to draw blood.

Without breaking eye contact with his brother, Cassius reached back blindly, his fingers wrapping firmly around her wrist to anchor her safely behind him, keeping her shielded from the wreckage of the secret he had buried twenty-five years ago.

"Natalia," he said, his tone dropping into a low, terrifyingly steady command as he forced her to look at him instead of his brother. "Stop listening to him. He doesn't know what he's talking about. We are leaving this room now."

"Huh..? But.. you.. who is he?.." she asked, her voice trembling with rising panic and confusion.

A breathless, unhinged laugh escaped Hansel's lips, echoing off the high bookshelves as he looked right past Cassius’s broad shoulder straight into her terrified, confused eyes.

"He won't tell you, will he?" he pressed on, his hands trembling violently at his sides as he took another reckless step forward into the light, ignoring the dark, murderous glare Cassius was fixing on him. "He acts like he owns the air in this house, but he's just a jailer! I'm Hansel. The twin who supposedly died on the operating table twenty-five years ago. The ghost he keeps locked under the floorboards so he doesn't have to share his precious inheritance!"

Cassius's grip on her wrist tightened just enough to make it clear she wasn't going anywhere until he said so. His blood ran cold with furious, calculated menace as he turned his head slightly toward her, his voice dropping into a low, terrifyingly smooth command.

"I said, enough, Natalia," he told her, his dark eyes boring into hers with absolute authority, refusing to let his brother's words c***k the foundation he had built. "He is nothing. A mistake of nature that should have stayed buried. We are walking out of these doors right now, and you will forget you ever saw him."