Chapter 9
1319 Words
'Why do I keep feeling that something is not right?'
The thought has been circling my head since I woke up. It sits heavy in my chest, like a stone I can’t swallow.
I step out of my room. The hallway is quiet. Too quiet.
I’m searching for Alice. The reason for it, I find hard to admit, even to myself.
For the past few weeks she’s built herself a chamber in my mind. Every time I’m near her, I find it difficult to move away. There’s something about the way she keeps her head down but never breaks. The way she works without complaining, even when June and the others make her life hell.
But I’m staying away from her. On purpose.
I’ve felt betrayal once before. Once was enough. It felt like hell — like someone reached into my chest and ripped everything out while I was still breathing. I’m not going through that again.
I just need someone to tell me she won’t do that to me. That she’s not playing a game. That she can stand the mafia life without using me to climb out of it.
God, I hope she can.
As I walk down the hallway on the last floor, the feeling in my gut grows sharper. Wrong. Off. I can’t place it, but it’s pulling me forward like a string tied to my ribs.
"Where is Alice?"
I grab a guard standing near the stairwell.
"I-I don’t know, Sir," he stammers, eyes wide.
I let him go and head to the kitchen. Maybe she’s there. Maybe she’s just late with the trays.
"Where is Alice?" I ask the moment I walk in.
Three maids freeze. One of them answers, voice low. "No one has seen her after she finished her morning chores, Sir."
No. Why does my chest tighten like this?
I go up to my sister’s room next. I knock twice. No answer. I try the handle — locked. She’s not in. Probably out shopping or at the salon. She wouldn’t have Alice running errands without telling me.
I go back downstairs to find my brothers.
Out in the garden, I can hear the rhythmic bounce of a basketball on our indoor court.
"Hey, big bro!" Zain calls out, sweat dripping down his face.
"Hey bro, wanna play?" Adrian tosses me the ball without looking.
"No. Not interested," I say, catching it and dropping it back to the floor.
"Have you seen Alice? The new maid."
They both stop. The ball rolls away. They exchange that look — the one that means _we know something you don’t._
"Just tell me," I snap.
They look at each other again.
"Oh God, you two are a pain in the ass," I mutter.
"No," Adrian says finally. "But why are you looking for her?"
"Never mind."
I turn to leave, but something ticks in my head. I stop and face them again.
"What about June?"
Zain wipes his forehead with his sleeve. "Oh. I saw her today. She was heading to the punishment room in the backyard. Don’t know what she’s doing down there."
The punishment room.
My blood goes cold.
I turn and start walking. Fast.
"Wait, you haven’t told us the reason yet!" Adrian calls after me.
I don’t answer. I keep walking.
June has never liked Alice. Neither have Maria or Ann. They’ve been picking at her since day one. And now, no one’s seen Alice since morning. And June is in the punishment room?
My steps get faster.
As I get closer to the back of the mansion, I hear it.
An agonizing scream.
That voice.
My heart clenches so hard it hurts.
I break into a run.
The door to the punishment room is locked. I step back once and kick it open with my foot. The wood splinters and the door slams against the wall.
Silence hits me first. Then the smell — iron, sweat, fear.
Everyone in the room freezes.
June is standing in the middle, holding the leather whip we use for enemies. Her arm is raised mid-swing.
In the corner, Maria and Ann stand with their arms crossed, watching like this is entertainment.
And on the floor, tied to a chair with her hands behind her back... is Alice.
She looks almost lifeless. Her head is bowed. Her uniform is torn in places.
"What have you done?"
My voice comes out low. Deadly. Rage is already radiating through me, hot and black.
I walk in closer. I rip the whip from June’s hand and throw it across the room. It hits the wall with a crack.
She’s so scared she can’t even speak. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish.
I drop to my knees in front of Alice.
"Alice."
She doesn’t answer. Her breathing is shallow. Like she’s gasping for air.
I reach for the ropes around her wrists. The moment I touch them, she cries out.
"Argh!"
"I’m sorry. I won’t hurt you," I say quickly. My hands are shaking. "I’m going to get you out."
I look at her wrists. Raw. Bruised. The rope has cut into her skin.
I trail my eyes down. Her whole body is marked. Red welts from the whip crisscross her arms, her back. Blood drips from a fresh cut just below her knee.
"Wait, brother, you haven’t even asked what she did yet," June says behind me, finding her voice.
"Enough," I say without turning.
"Sir, you shouldn’t save her," June continues, stepping closer. "She’s a cunning fox. She’s been manipulating you. She walked into your room on purpose. She—"
"Shut. Up."
I stand and turn. In one motion, I slap Maria across the face. Hard. The sound echoes in the small room. Blood drips from the corner of her lips. She stumbles back into Ann, eyes wide with shock.
No one speaks now.
I turn back to Alice. My hands are steadier now. I untie the ropes, one knot at a time. She flinches with every movement but doesn’t make a sound.
When she’s free, she sways. I catch her before she hits the floor.
She’s so light. Too light.
I shrug off my cloak and wrap it around her, covering the torn uniform and the marks. Then I lift her into my arms.
She’s trembling.
"Got you," I whisper. "I’ve got you."
I carry her out of that room and don’t look back. I don’t care about June’s protests. I don’t care about Maria crying in the corner.
I walk straight through the mansion, up the stairs, past the guards who all lower their heads.
I take her to her room. The small one near the servants’ quarters. I lay her down on the bed gently, like she might break.
"Call the doctor. Now," I tell the butler who followed me in.
He rushes out without a word.
I sit on the edge of the bed and watch her. Her face is pale. There’s a bruise forming on her cheek. Her lips are cracked.
Guilt hits me like a punch. I chose her for the east wing. I knew June hated her for it. And I did nothing to stop it.
I reach out and brush a strand of hair from her forehead. She stirs but doesn’t wake.
'Why do I keep feeling that something is not right?'
Because it wasn’t. Because I was too busy protecting myself from pain to see someone else drowning in it.
The door opens. The doctor comes in with his bag, followed by two guards.
"Take care of her," I say, standing. My voice is steel. "And no one touches her again. Anyone who does answers to me."
The doctor nods and gets to work.
I step outside the room and close the door behind me.
Down the hall, I can hear June arguing with a guard.
I turn toward the sound.
This ends today.
- Writer
