chapter 5
1253 Words
Chapter 5: The Rules of the Mansion
Morning sunlight filtered softly through the heavy curtains as Bryan’s tutor gathered his books and left the room downstairs. The mansion fell quiet again, the silence thick and almost suffocating.
Bryan climbed the stairs without a word, his small hands tucked deep into the pockets of his trousers. I followed a few steps behind, careful not to disturb the fragile peace.
When we reached his bedroom, he turned to me.
“You can leave now.”
“I know.”
He frowned. “Then why are you still here?”
I smiled, hoping to soften the moment. “Because I thought you might want someone to keep you company.”
“I don’t.”
His answer was quick, but he didn’t ask me to leave again. Instead, he walked to the shelf, picked up a puzzle, and sat cross-legged on the carpet.
I remained where I was, pretending to flip through one of the books on his desk.
Silence settled between us. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was... peaceful.
Then laughter drifted up from downstairs—deep voices, the clink of glasses.
Curiosity tugged at me.
Bryan didn’t even look up.
“They’re here again,” he muttered.
“Who?”
“Dad’s friends.”
My pulse quickened. Maria wanted evidence. Maybe this was my chance.
“I’ll be right back,” I whispered.
Bryan didn’t answer.
I quietly slipped out of the room.
---
Keeping close to the wall, I crept toward the upstairs balcony overlooking the grand living room.
Below, several men sat around a polished wooden table covered with bottles of expensive whisky and half-smoked cigars.
Andre Moretti sat among them.
Even surrounded by dangerous-looking men, he somehow stood out.
He wasn’t speaking much. He simply listened while the others laughed.
A guard stood at every entrance.
My eyes wandered across the room until one face made me pause.
I knew him.
I’d seen him in the newspaper beside the city’s governor during a charity event.
My stomach tightened.
So it wasn’t just criminals.
If he was here willingly, this wasn't organised crime operating in the shadows.
It was organised crime protected by power.
Andre’s circle reached far beyond the underworld.
No wonder nobody could touch him.
Carefully, I slipped the tiny camera from its hiding place beneath my clothes.
I aimed it through the railing.
Click.
Another photograph.
Click.
One more—
A man suddenly looked up.
His eyes locked onto mine.
A slow grin spread across his face.
He whispered something into the ear of the man beside him.
Both of them looked up.
My blood ran cold.
Before I could step away, one of the guards began climbing the stairs.
“My lord wants you downstairs.”
My fingers tightened around the camera.
There was no escape.
What were you thinking, Elena?
---
Every pair of eyes followed me as I approached the table.
I kept my head lowered.
“So this is the new nanny?” one man asked with a chuckle.
Another leaned back in his chair.
“She’s prettier up close.”
Heat rushed to my face.
I wished the floor would swallow me whole.
One of them stood.
He circled me slowly, studying me as though I were something on display.
“So shy,” he laughed.
His fingers brushed a strand of my hair.
I stepped away, almost choking on the smell of his cigarette.
The men laughed louder.
“Don’t be afraid. We won’t hurt you.”
His hand slid toward my waist.
I jerked backward.
He caught my wrist before I could move.
“Let go,” I whispered.
He only laughed.
Near the doorway, Nyla stood frozen.
She looked as though she wanted to step in... but fear rooted her to the floor., she lowered her eyes.
She wasn’t going to help. I knew she was frustrated by how quickly I'd landed myself in trouble.
The man pulled me closer.
“Relax,” he murmured.
“We’re only having a little fun.”
A calm voice cut through the room.
“Leave her.”
Silence.
The man’s smile disappeared instantly.
He released my wrist as though it had burned him.
Nobody argued.
Nobody questioned the order.
Andre hadn’t even looked at us.
He calmly poured himself another glass of whisky.
Only after taking a sip did he raise his eyes to meet mine.
“Return to Bryan.”
For the first time, his voice brought relief to me.
That was all.
I didn’t wait to be told twice.
I hurried out of the room, barely remembering how to breathe.
---
Bryan was exactly where I’d left him.
He glanced at me once before returning to his puzzle.
“You were downstairs.”
I nodded.
“Why are you scared?” he said, eyes still fixed on his puzzle.
“I’m not.”
How was I supposed to tell a kid I was scared? I tried to steady my shaky legs.
“You are.”
I couldn’t lie. He was right. Bryan was just too brilliant for me. Oh, kid, please look away from my trembling legs.
He fitted another puzzle piece into place.
Then, without looking at me, he said quietly,
“You shouldn’t go downstairs.”
I stared at him.
“What do you mean?”
Did he also know about them? He should have warned me.
He shrugged.
“Dad’s friends are bad people.”
The words lingered in my mind for the rest of the day.
---
Dinner passed quietly.
After helping Bryan bathe and reading him a bedtime story, I tucked him into bed.
He surprised me by grabbing my hand.
“Will you still be here tomorrow?”
I smiled.
“I think so.”
He let go.
“Good night.”
“Good night, Bryan.”
I waited until his breathing became steady before leaving the room.
Back inside my own bedroom, I locked the door.
The hidden camera lay safely in my hand.
I switched it on.
The photographs were clear.
Andre.
His associates.
The influential man from the newspaper.
Evidence.
Real evidence.
For the first time since entering the mansion, hope flickered inside me.
Maybe this assignment wasn’t impossible after all.
A loud crash echoed somewhere below.
I sat upright.
It sounded like glass shattering.
Then...
Silence.
Nyla’s warning echoed inside my head.
Don’t leave your room.
I stared at the door.
Whatever had happened downstairs wasn’t my concern.
I should stay here.
I should—
Another sound.
A heavy thud.
If someone had been murdered, the evidence might disappear by morning.
Maybe I should go and see what’s going on down there.
Curiosity won.
Slowly, I unlocked the door, trying as much as possible to reduce the creaking noise.
The hallway was empty.
I crept toward the staircase, every step making my heart pound harder.
Only one light remained on in the enormous living room.
Andre Moretti sat alone.
His sleeves were rolled to his elbows.
A glass of whisky rested in one hand.
Something dark stained the front of his white shirt.
I froze
The metallic scent reached me even from the stairs.
Blood.
My pulse roared in my ears.
I shouldn’t be here. It’s risky. Why did I even leave my room? Nyla had warned me.
Carefully, I took one step backward.
Then another.
I turned, praying he hadn’t noticed me.
“Stop there.”
My entire body went rigid.
---
The mansion rules were clear.
And I had just broken one.
- Writer
