Chapter Eight: The Things They Took From Me

I had managed to peel the wet, ruined satin dress from my body, each movement sending a fresh wave of pain through my bruised knees and bruised shoulder

The steaming hot water from the shower was the only thing keeping me anchored to reality.

I stood beneath the shower for nearly thirty minutes, watching the design of the warehouse floor, the scent of gunpowder, and the lingering phantom taste of chloroform disappearing down the drain.

But no matter how hot the water became, the cold buried deep inside my chest refused to leave.

The screaming in the West Wing had stopped after three agonizing minutes. It always did. Like some twisted routine inside the walls of this mansion, the screams rose just enough to remind me that something horrifying still lived here… before silence swallowed everything again.

By the time I stepped out of the bathroom, exhaustion clung to every inch of my body. I pulled on the oversized cream sweater and thick cotton sweatpants Evelyn had left folded neatly on the counter. My damp hair hung loosely around my shoulders as I walked back into the bedroom.

The bowl of soup on the nightstand remained untouched; a thin film forming over the surface as the steam slowly died away.

My stomach was too twisted with anxiety to eat.

Instead, I climbed onto the massive bed and pulled my knees tightly against my chest, staring at the heavy mahogany bedroom door.

Beneath the frame, the burgundy glow of the electronic lock stretched across the carpet like a warning line.

“Fuck,” I muttered quietly, dragging both hands through my damp hair.

So, my parents hadn’t been reckless drivers. They hadn’t made a tragic mistake on a slick rainy night. They had been erased. And the man who currently had me under a literal electronic lock and key had known it all along. Elias’s words kept echoing in a relentless loop in my mind.

I tried my best not to think much about this and just go to bed but the imagination of the incident would leave my mind. Making me reckless.

I crawled to the edge of the bed, my bare feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. I walked toward the door, my chest tightening with every step. I didn’t try to turn the handle. I knew it wouldn’t open. Instead, I pressed my palm against the cool wood, leaning my forehead against it.

I remember Silas told me he was going to be outside.

“Silas.” I called out, my voice slightly stronger now that the air in my lungs was clean. I know you're out there. You said you were staying in the armchair."

No replies. Then finally…

“Eat your food and go to sleep, Vienne. His deep voice vibrated through the door itself, low and controlled.

It irritated me instantly.

How am I supposed to sleep?" I demanded, my knuckles rapping sharply against the mahogany. You can't just drop a bomb about my parents' murder, drag me to your fortress, lock the door, and tell me to have a good night rest?”

"I didn't lock you in to punish you," Silas said, his tone flat. I locked you in because someone inside this house cut my brake lines. Enough evidence to show that a mysterious live with is here. I don't know who has clearance to this wing tonight besides Evelyn and Elias. Until I do, you stay behind that door."

"And the woman?" I asked, my voice dropping to a fierce whisper. "The woman screaming in the West Wing? Is she part of your security protocol too? Or is she just another piece of the “circle” I’m not allowed to know about?"

A long, suffocating silence followed after that.

“Silas.”

“Go to bed, Little Bird," he rumbled, the finality in his words heavier than the lock itself. "We talk in the morning. When the fever leaves your head”.

He still got the gut to call me that name and who told him I had fever.

I wished he wasn’t outside so I could call Lena and hear her voice. Because that my only peace right now.

I let out a sharp, frustrated breath, leaning my back against the door and sliding down until I was sitting on the floor, right in the streak of red light. I hated him. I hated how he could control the gravity in a room with a single sentence. But most of all, I hated that a small, terrified part of me felt safer knowing his massive frame was leaning against the other side of that door, split knuckles and all.

I eventually dragged myself back to the bed, collapsing under the heavy duvet. Exhaustion finally won the battle against my spinning mind, dragging me down into a dark, dreamless sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, pale winter light spilled across the bedroom. For a moment, I forgot where I was. Then the reality crashed back instantly. The Vane estate. The kidnapping. The contract. And most of… Silas.

The throbbing in my head had subsided into a dull, manageable ache, though my muscles protested violently as I sat up. I looked toward the door and realized that it has changed from red to green. Meaning the door was unlocked.

Immediately I stood up from my bed, my stomach growled. The soup from last night was already cold and I needed to eat something.

So carefully, I crossed the room and tested the handle. The door opened smoothly, revealing an empty hallway.

The leather armchair Silas had mentioned was pushed against the opposite wall, a slight mark in the cushion the only proof he had actually spent the night there.

The mansion was unnaturally quiet as I made my way downstairs barefoot. Morning cloud pressed heavily against the enormous windows while distant thunder still rolled through the gray sky outside. I needed answers, and Silas clearly had no intention of giving them willingly.

But first, I can’t do that on an empty stomach. I called out for Evelyn.

“Evelyn…”

I made my way down the grand spiral staircase of the East Wing, heading toward the long, enclosed glass bridge that connected the residential quarters to the wide restricted library and study.

The kitchen was close by.

But as I neared the heavy double doors of Silas’s private office, the sound of raised, angry voices leaked through the gap in the entryway.

I stopped, pressing myself against the stone pillar just outside the frame.

"…cannot keep her here definitely, Silas," Elias’s voice was sharp, completely stripped of its usual playful manner. “The Overseer knows she’s alive. The fact that they bypassed our primary garage security means they have a spot high up in Vane Logistics. If the Board finds out you’ve hidden the Caelthorne vault key in your own bedroom, they’ll liquidate your assets before noon."

"Let them try," Silas rumbled, his voice low and dangerous, followed by the distinct sound of amber liquid being poured into a heavy crystal glass. "The contract is legally binding. As long as she is my wife, her inheritance, her files, and her safety belong exclusively to the Vane estate. The Overseer can’t touch her without declaring open war on the entire board."

"And what happens when she remembers?" Elias countered sharply. "You heard her in the car. She’s having flashbacks. The trauma block your medical team put her under after the crash is cracking. If she remembers what happened on that bridge... if she remembers who gave the order to run her parents car off the road..."

There was a sudden, deafening silence inside the room.

My breath hitched in my throat, my fingers digging into the cold stone of the pillar until my nails turned white. I suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore. I froze beside the stone pillar outside the study entrance, pressing myself into the walls like it should swallow me already.

A medical team.

A trauma block.

They didn't just know about the crash. They had altered my mind.

Inside the office, glass clinked softly. “She’s already remembering,” Elias continued sharply.

“She remembers only a bit,” Silas replied calmly. “So it doesn’t matter for now”.

“Doesn’t matter?” Elias barked out a humorless laugh.

“Come on man! She deserves the truth.”

“No,” Silas said flatly. “I don’t want her hurt”. His voice low this time.

My hands began trembling. “They had altered my memories…” I whispered soundlessly to myself.

“What would you do then?” Elias asked.

“I will ensure she never finds the second medallion."

“Aah” my head ached a little after that word and I held myself with my second hand against my thigh… And immediately, i felt something inside my pocket, my fingers curled around a small, heavy piece of metal-the silver geometric triangle medallion; Silas had thrown at the kidnapper, the one Evelyn must have placed with my belongings.

But this time, in the cold daylight, I noticed something different. The back wasn’t smooth. There was a narrow, microscopic groove carved directly through the center, like it was designed to connect to another piece.

Meaning it wasn’t a complete medallion. It was only half. So that mean I was with the second medallion already.

My blood turned cold. Before I could even process the realization; the floorboard creaked softly behind me. I twisted around instantly, my heart leaping into my throat.

Standing at the end of the dim corridor, her silver hair perfectly pinned, was Mrs. Evelyn.

But she wasn't holding a tray of soup, and the kind, motherly warmth was completely gone from her face. In her hand, she held a heavy ring of iron keys, her eyes fixed directly on the half-medallion visible in my trembling hand.

"You shouldn't be out of your room madam," Evelyn said, her voice completely flat, cold, and utterly devoid of life. "Mr. Vane specifically said you remain inside your room.”

Behind me, the voices in the study instantly stopped. And for the first time since arriving at the Vane estate, Mrs. Evelyn smiled.

It wasn’t kind. It was terrifying.