EPISODE FOUR
1248 Words
The gates closed behind them with a heavy metallic sound.
Lira felt it in her chest.
The black car continued forward slowly, tired gliding across the rain-soaked driveway as her eyes remained diced on the massive estate ahead.
No.
Estate wasn't the right word.
This place looked like something built by people who had never once worried about survival. The mansion stood tall beneath the stormy dark sky, illuminated by dim golden lights that made the ancient stone walls glow faintly through the roof, vine curling subtly around parts of the architecture as though the building had existed for decades.
Old money.
That was the first thing Lira thought.
Not flashy wealth.
Not the loud kind of rich people on social media showed off.
The place felt quieter
Colder.
More dangerous.
The kind of wealth built through power instead of attention.
Lira swallowed hard as the car came to a stop beneath a covered entrance. Several men stood nearby under the shadows of the pillars.
Security.
Watching silently.
One of them opened the car door for her.
Lira stepped out slowly. The rain has weakened into a soft drizzle now, but the cold wind still brushed against her damp clothes.
She stared up at the mansion again. Every window glowed softly.
Every inch of the place looked untouched
Perfect.
Like nothing ugly had ever been allowed inside.
And that only made her feel more out of place.
“Inside.” The tall man besides her said calmly.
Lira tightened her grip on her bag before obeying.
The large front doors opened before they even reached them.
Warmth immediately surrounded her. And silence.
The inside of the mansion was even worse.
Or perhaps better.
Lira honestly couldn't decide.
The floors beneath her feet were polished black marble with delicate silver linings. Massive chandeliers hung above, casting warm golden lights across enormous hallways lined with paintings older than she probably was.
Everything smelled faintly of cedar wood and something expensive she couldn't name.
Not a single thing looked misplaced.
Not one crack.
Not one stain.
No peeling walls.
No leaking ceilings.
No sign of struggle.
It didn't feel like a home.
Instead, it felt like a place where powerful men discussed the fate of people like her over expensive drinks.
Lira instinctively lowered her eyes as they walked deeper inside. Even her footsteps sounded wrong here.
Too loud.
Too cheap.
Suddenly, a woman dressed entirely in black appeared from another hallway. She bowed slightly towards the men.
“He's waiting.”
The tall man nodded before gesturing to Lira to follow. Her pulse quickened immediately.
The deeper they walked into the mansion, the quieter it became.
No laughter.
No music.
No life.
Only silence.
The kind that pressed against your skin. Finally, they stopped before a pair of massive dark wooden doors.
Lira genuinely wondered what and who was awaiting her on the other side of the door. Within wasting much time, the woman pushed open slowly and for the first time since arriving, Lira felt genuine fear.
The office beyond was enormous. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the rain-covered city below. Shelves filled with old books stretched across the walls while a fireplace burned softly near the corner of the room.
The lighting was dim.
Warm.
Yet somehow, the room still felt cold. And near the window
A man stood motionless.
His back faced them. One hand rested behind him while the other held a glass of amber liquid loosely near his side.
Black gloves covered his hands completely.
Even indoors.
He didn't turn around when they entered. Didn't acknowledge her presence
Nothing.
The men besides her stepped back immediately.
One of them spoke quietly. “She's here.”
The man near the window remained silent. Then, with a respectful nod, the others left the room entirely.
The doors shut behind them. And suddenly
Lira was alone with him.
Her heartbeat became painfully loud in her ears. The man still hadn't turned around.
Rain slowed softly as the city lights reflected faintly against the glass.
Lira swallowed carefully.
This man…
This was the person her biological parents had borrowed from?
The person who somehow still remembered a debt after thirteen years?
Silence stretched endlessly between them. Finally, she gathered enough courage to speak.
“...Sir?”
No response.
The man remained staring out at the city. Completely still.
A chill slowly crawled down her spine. Something about him felt deeply wrong.
Not loud.
Not explosive.
Worse.
Controlled.
Like every emotion inside him has been locked away long ago.
Lira tried again carefully. “I think there's been a misunderstanding here.”
Still nothing.
Her fingers tightened slightly around her bag.
“My biological parents died years ago,” she continued softly. “I was a child. I didn't know anything about debts or money or whatever happened between them and your company.”
The man finally moved slightly.
Not enough to face her.
Just enough for her to notice.
He was tall.
Much taller than she expected. Broad shoulders hidden beneath black clothing. Even from behind, his presence filled the room in an oppressive way.
Lira's throat tightened.
“I understand they owed money,” she continued cautiously. “But I don't see how much of this involves me now.”
Silence again.
The finally
A voice.
Low.
Cold.
“You don't see it?”
The sound of it startled her.
There was no emotion in his tone.
No anger.
No amusement.
Nothing.
Lira forced herself to answer. “No.”
The man finally turned around slowly.
And for a moment
Lira forgot how to breathe.
Gray eyes met hers.
Sharp.
Unreadable.
Cold enough to make her stomach tighten instantly.
He looked young.
Too young for someone carrying this kind of presence.
Dark hair framed a face so compared, it almost didn't seem human. Every feature looked carved perfectly into place, untouched by warmth or softness. Even his posture remained painfully controlled.
His black gloves contrasted sharply against the pale skin visible near his wrist.
Lira immediately understood something terrifying.
This man was dangerous.
Not because he looked violent. But because he looked like someone who could destroy lives without feeling anything afterward.
His gaze lingered on her slightly.
Observing.
Studying.
Lira fought the urge to step backward.
“I presume you understand why you're here,” he said calmly.
“This…this isn't fair.”
His expression didn't falter.
“Fairness is irrelevant.” The bluntness of his response made her chest tighten.
Lira swallowed hard. “My parents were poor,” she said quietly. “They struggled their entire lives. There's no way they borrowed that kind of money unless they were desperate.
A pause.
Then
“Yes.”
Something about that answer unsettled her deeply.
No denial.
No explanation.
Just acknowledgment.
The man walked slowly towards the large desk near the center of the room before placing his glass down carefully. Every movement he made felt precise.
Controlled.
He opened a folder resting on the desk.
“You said this is a misunderstanding.”
Lira nodded immediately. “Yes.”
The man reached inside the folder before pulling out several papers.
Then, without warning.
He threw them towards her.
The documents scattered across the floor near her feet, which caused Lira to flinch instinctively.
Her breathing sharpened slightly as she stared down.
They were photographs.
Old ones.
Confused, she slowly crouched down and picked one up. And the moment she saw it
Her blood ran cold.
It was her.
- Writer
