Chapter 30: The Room He Never Opens

Lena followed Alexander and Mrs. Ward through the dim hallway, her heart hammering harder with every step. The house was quiet—too quiet—like it was holding its breath with them.

They stopped at a heavy wooden door Lena hadn’t noticed before. It was older than the rest of the house, carved with symbols she didn’t recognize.

Mrs. Ward placed a hand on Alexander’s arm.

“You don’t have to show her,” she murmured.

Alexander’s jaw tightened. “She deserves the truth.”

Mrs. Ward nodded once, her eyes softening as she stepped aside.

Alexander reached into his pocket and pulled out a small brass key—old, worn, and cold-looking. His fingers lingered on it for a moment… as if it held a piece of pain he couldn’t let go.

He unlocked the door and pushed it open.

The room inside was dark at first. He flipped a switch, and dim lights flickered on.

Lena gasped.

It wasn’t a bedroom.

It wasn’t a study.

It was a surveillance room.

Screens lined the walls, some on, some black. Dozens of camera feeds — the gates, the forest perimeter, the hallways, the stairwells.

But what truly shook her were the old files, thick folders stacked in the corner with dates going back more than twenty years.

And pictures.

Many pictures.

Some of Alexander as a boy — maybe ten, maybe twelve.

Some of him as a teenager.

Some of him as a young man.

And next to him in many of them…

A tall man with the same cold eyes she’d heard through the intercom earlier.

Marcus Hale.

Lena’s breath caught. “You and Marcus… you grew up together?”

Alexander’s shoulders stiffened. “No. He was my father’s protégé. He spent more time in this house than I ever did.”

Lena stepped into the room slowly, eyes scanning the walls.

“Alex…” she whispered, “what is this?”

He didn’t speak at first.

He walked toward one of the screens, touching it lightly like it was a wound he couldn’t close.

“Before my father died,” he said quietly, “this house wasn’t a home. It was a training ground.”

Lena frowned. “For what?”

“For power,” he said. “For dominance. For control. My father didn’t raise children — he raised successors. And Marcus was his favorite.”

Mrs. Ward closed her eyes for a moment, as if reliving something painful.

“He was cruel,” she said softly. “He taught Alexander that weakness had no place in business… or in life.”

Alexander’s voice lowered. “Marcus wanted to be me. Wanted my inheritance. My position. My future.”

“And when he didn’t get it,” Mrs. Ward added, “he turned his anger toward the one person who stood in his way.”

Alexander.

Lena’s heart cracked.

She stepped closer, gently taking his hand. “Alex… I’m so sorry.”

He looked at her with an expression she’d never seen—raw vulnerability.

“When my father died,” he continued, “Marcus expected the company. Expected everything. But the will didn’t leave it to him.” His voice deepened. “It left everything to me.”

“And Marcus lost everything he thought was his,” Mrs. Ward said softly.

Alexander nodded. “And he swore he’d take it all back.”

Lena swallowed hard. “So he’s been watching you… all this time?”

“In the beginning,” Alexander said. “But eventually I outsmarted him. Pushed him out. Made sure he couldn’t get close.”

“And now,” Mrs. Ward said, “he’s found a way.”

Lena felt cold. “Me.”

Mrs. Ward placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Marcus never attacks directly. He breaks what Alexander loves.”

Lena’s chest tightened painfully. “But I’m not—”

Alexander cut her off, his voice quiet but firm.

“You are.”

She looked at him, stunned.

“You matter,” he said, stepping closer. “More than I expected. More than I wanted to admit.”

Her breath trembled.

But before she could speak—

A soft beeping sound interrupted them.

One of the monitors blinked, switching from a static view of the front gate to something new.

Lena’s stomach dropped.

A shape in the darkness of the driveway.

A figure standing in the cold.

Facing the house.

Alexander stepped forward, eyes narrowing.

“Zoom,” he commanded.

Mrs. Ward pressed a button.

The camera zoomed in.

Lena covered her mouth.

A person stood on the driveway wearing a dark hood—

head tilted upward…

looking directly into the camera.

As if they knew Alexander was watching.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

In their hand was a white piece of cloth.

And tied to it… was Lena’s necklace.

The one she had lost weeks ago and assumed she misplaced.

Her heart dropped into her stomach.

“How…” she whispered, voice cracking, “how did they get that?”

Alexander exhaled slowly, rage simmering under his skin.

“They got it,” he said, “because they’ve been closer to you than you ever realized.”

Mrs. Ward touched her chest. “Look.”

The person on the driveway lifted the cloth higher—

And Lena saw a symbol burned into it.

A circle.

Split in half.

A mark she had never seen.

Alexander’s face drained of color.

“No,” he whispered. “Not them.”

Mrs. Ward’s eyes widened. “Alexander… you don’t think—”

He grabbed Lena’s hand urgently.

“We need to talk. Now.”

She stared at him, terrified. “Alex… who is that?”

Alexander looked directly into her eyes.

“Not Marcus,” he said. “Someone far worse.”