Sold to the Silent CEO

Chapter 5: The Scent of Secrets

The mansion felt different when Adam wasn't there. Without his towering presence, the halls seemed wider, colder, and filled with a silence that felt like it was watching her.

Layla waited until she heard the roar of his Bentley fading down the driveway. Only then did she step out of her room. She had traded the emerald silk for a simple pair of jeans and a black sweater—clothes that allowed her to move like a shadow.

She found herself standing at the edge of the East Wing, staring down the long, dimly lit corridor that led to the West Wing. Adam’s warning rang in her ears, but Zaid’s words were louder. *Ask him why the West Wing smells like jasmine.*

Her heart hammered against her ribs as she walked. Every creak of the floorboards sounded like a gunshot. When she reached the heavy, carved oak door she had seen on her first night, she stopped. There was no electronic keypad here, no biometric scanner. Just an old-fashioned silver lock that looked out of place in this high-tech fortress.

She reached for the handle, her breath catching. It was locked.

"Looking for something, Madam?"

Layla gasped, spinning around so fast she nearly lost her footing. Mrs. Haneen was standing a few feet away, her hands folded neatly in front of her. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes held a flicker of something that looked like fear.

"I... I got lost," Layla lied, her voice trembling. "The house is so big."

"Mr. Adam was very clear about the boundaries," the housekeeper said softly, her gaze shifting to the silver lock. "This wing hasn't been opened in five years. Not since... the incident. There is nothing in there but dust and memories that are better left undisturbed."

"What incident, Mrs. Haneen? Who lived here before me?"

The older woman paled. She opened her mouth to speak, but the sound of the front door slamming shut downstairs cut her off. Adam was home. Early.

"Go back to your room, Layla. Now," Mrs. Haneen whispered urgently before disappearing into the shadows of the service stairs.

Layla hurried back, her mind racing. As she passed the ventilation duct near the ceiling, a faint breeze brushed her face. She stopped. She inhaled deeply, and her blood ran cold.

It was there. Faint, but unmistakable. The sweet, cloying scent of jasmine.

It wasn't coming from a garden. It was coming from inside the walls.

She reached her room just as she heard Adam’s heavy footsteps on the stairs. She dived into her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin and grabbing a book, trying to slow her breathing.

A moment later, her door swung open without a knock. Adam stood there, his tie loosened, his hair disheveled. He looked exhausted, but his eyes were sharp as they scanned the room. They lingered on her shoes, which she had kicked off near the door, then moved to her face.

"You look flushed," he said, walking toward her. He placed a hand on the mattress, leaning over her. "Did you have a busy afternoon?"

"I was just reading," she said, holding the book tighter. "I didn't expect you back so soon."

Adam leaned in closer, his nose brushing her temple. He stayed there for a long beat, inhaling. Layla held her breath, praying he couldn't smell the dust from the hallway on her clothes.

"You smell like the West Wing," he whispered, his voice dangerously low.

He grabbed her wrist, pulling the book from her hand. His grip wasn't painful, but it was absolute. "I told you once, Layla. I won't tell you again. Some ghosts are meant to stay buried. If you keep digging, you might not like the grave you find."

He let go of her hand and walked to the door, but before leaving, he turned back. "From now on, the West Wing door will be guarded. Don't make me treat you like a prisoner in your own home."

As the door clicked shut, Layla sat up, her heart still racing. He hadn't denied it. There were ghosts here. And the more he tried to hide them, the more she realized that her marriage wasn't just a contract to save her father. It was a cage designed to keep a secret she was never supposed to find.