Beneath the surface
1177 Words
“Stay behind.”
The voice was deep, calm, and commanding. Celine froze mid-step, her back stiffening. Slowly, she turned around.
Leo was sitting casually in the corner, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His laptop lay on the low table, its faint blue light casting shadows across his sharp features. His gaze was unreadable, but his presence was heavy, almost suffocating.
“Me?” Celine asked, her voice breaking slightly.
Leo didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingers lightly against the armrest.
“You’re the new maid, right?” he said finally, his tone cool but probing.
“Yes,” she answered, clutching the edge of her apron tightly. “Is there a problem?”
He let out a faint chuckle, though it lacked warmth. “That depends.”
“Depends on what?” she asked, unable to hide the nervous edge in her voice.
Leo tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes narrowing.
“How much do you value your privacy, Celine?”
The question caught her off guard. “My... privacy?”
He gestured vaguely toward the walls of the room.
“This house has secrets. Some you’ll see. Some you won’t. But the moment you start asking questions, privacy becomes... complicated.”
Her chest tightened. “I don’t understand.”
Leo leaned forward now, his elbows resting on his knees. His voice dropped lower, making her strain to hear.
“Don’t try to,” he said. “Just do your job, keep your head down, and don’t—” He paused, his gaze intensifying.
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking this place is normal.”
Celine swallowed hard, her pulse pounding in her ears. “Are you trying to scare me?”
“Scare you?” Leo smirked, though there was no humor in his expression.
“If I were trying to scare you, you’d know.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, as abruptly as he had started, Leo leaned back and picked up his laptop again.
“You can go,” he said dismissively, his attention shifting back to the screen.
Celine didn’t move at first. She wanted to ask what he meant, why he was being so cryptic, but the hard set of his jaw told her he wouldn’t answer. Without another word, she turned and walked out of the room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.
Back in her quarters, Celine paced the small space, replaying the conversation in her mind. The mansion had already felt overwhelming, but now it felt downright ominous.
Why had Leo singled her out? And what did he mean by "this place isn’t normal"?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. She opened it to find Liam standing there, his usual easygoing smile in place.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked, leaning casually against the doorframe.
Celine hesitated.
“Yeah, just... a lot to take in.”
Liam nodded. “First day can be like that. Don’t let it get to you.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but the words stuck in her throat. Something about Liam’s smile seemed... off, like it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You’ll be fine,” he said, pushing off the frame. “Just follow the rules, and you’ll do great here.”
“Thanks,” Celine murmured, watching as he walked away.
As she closed the door, a thought struck her: why did everyone keep mentioning the rules?
The next morning, Celine was assigned to clean the east wing, a part of the mansion she hadn’t seen yet. The hallways there were darker, quieter, the air thick with an unsettling stillness.
She was polishing the surface of a grand piano when she heard a faint sound behind her, like the creak of a floorboard. She turned quickly, but the hallway was empty.
“Hello?” she called out, her voice echoing softly.
No answer.
Shaking her head, she returned to her work, but the uneasy feeling didn’t leave. It felt like the walls themselves were watching her.
Later, as she was dusting a bookshelf, her hand brushed against something cold and metallic. She looked closer and found a small, intricately designed key hidden between the books.
“What’s this doing here?” she muttered, turning it over in her fingers.
Before she could dwell on it, a sharp voice cut through the air.
“What are you doing?”
Celine jumped, nearly dropping the key. She spun around to see Leo standing a few feet away, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable.
“I-I was just cleaning,” she stammered, quickly shoving the key into her pocket.
Leo’s eyes flicked to her hand, then back to her face. He took a slow step forward, the tension in the room growing with each movement.
“Careful,” he said, his tone low and dangerous. “This house doesn’t forgive curiosity.”
Before she could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, her heart racing and her mind reeling.
---
That night, Celine couldn’t sleep. The key weighed heavily in her pocket, its presence a constant reminder of the strange events of the day.
She pulled it out and held it up to the dim light of her bedside lamp. The design was ornate, almost antique, with symbols she didn’t recognize etched into the surface.
“What do you open?” she whispered, running her fingers over the grooves.
A soft knock at her door made her jump. She quickly tucked the key under her pillow and opened the door to find Ms. Perry standing there, her expression calm but serious.
“The gentlemen have requested your presence in the lounge,” she said simply.
Celine blinked, confused. “Now? It’s almost midnight.”
Ms. Perry didn’t answer, only stepped aside to let her through.
As Celine followed her down the dimly lit hallway, the unease she’d felt all day returned in full force. She couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was waiting for her in the lounge would change everything.
The double doors to the lounge opened slowly, and Celine stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, the shadows stretching across the walls like silent witnesses.
The seven men were there, seated in a semicircle, their expressions ranging from curious to unreadable.
Leo was the last to look at her, his gaze sharp and unwavering. He gestured to the empty chair in the center of the room.
“Sit,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Celine hesitated, her pulse hammering in her ears. She glanced at the others, but no one spoke.
With shaky legs, she moved toward the chair, her mind racing with questions.
As she sat down, Gabriel leaned forward, his fingers steepled under his chin.
“Celine,” he began, his tone calm but edged with something she couldn’t place.
“There’s something we need to discuss.”
- Writer
