Chapter 5

Julian stood in the kitchen doorway, staring at the woman crouched beside the counter with a piece of cold bread in her hand. For a moment, an unfamiliar discomfort stirred in his chest.

Evelyn looked nothing like the sister he remembered.

Her cheeks were hollow, her clothes hung loosely around her shoulders, and she was eating leftover food with a desperation that made him wonder when she had last been properly fed. Even her hands looked strange, their swollen joints and discolored skin making her fingers appear stiff and awkward.

But Julian quickly suppressed his uneasiness.

His twin sister had always been spoiled and selfish, accustomed to getting whatever she wanted simply because she was a Fenrir. Three years at the family's prison farm should have taught her discipline, yet here she was, sneaking into the kitchen and devouring scraps like someone who had forgotten every rule of proper behavior.

"Evelyn, I'm talking to you," Julian said sharply. "Have you completely forgotten your manners?"

Evelyn glanced at him, recognizing the familiar irritation in his voice, before lowering her eyes to the food again.

There had been a time when Julian's anger would have devastated her. They had grown up together, shared the same birthday, and once understood each other better than anyone else. But three years ago, he had testified against her without hesitation, and during her imprisonment, he had never once come to see her.

Now, watching the disgust on his face, Evelyn understood that Camille had taken her place in Julian's heart as thoroughly as she had in everyone else's.

She no longer wanted to beg for affection that should never have required begging.

Instead of answering, she picked up another piece of bread.

Julian's expression darkened.

"Are you seriously ignoring me?" He strode toward her and seized both her wrists, forcing her to face him. "Do you have any idea what Camille has been through because of you?"

Pain shot through Evelyn's hands, and she instinctively tried to pull away.

Her fingers had never fully recovered from the winters at the prison farm, when the guards forced her to wash their clothes in freezing water. The joints frequently became swollen and painfully stiff, especially after prolonged exposure to cold.

"Let go," she whispered.

Julian tightened his grip.

"If you hadn't tampered with that equipment three years ago, Camille wouldn't have been trapped in that refrigerated truck. She wouldn't still be suffering from the damage to her health, and she certainly wouldn't have needed another surgery."

Evelyn's breathing grew shallow as she struggled against him.

She remembered the accident, but she also remembered how quickly Julian had decided she was responsible. Nothing she said afterward had mattered, because the entire family had already accepted his version of events.

"I'm hungry, Julian," she managed to say. "Please, just let me eat."

Her words only made him angrier.

"Hungry?" he repeated incredulously. "That's all you care about? Camille nearly died because of you, and you're standing here worrying about food?"

He dragged her away from the counter, ignoring the way she stumbled.

"You should be grateful Father arranged for you to spend only three years at the Fenrir farm. Without the family's influence, you could have ended up in a real prison with a much harsher sentence."

Evelyn nearly laughed at the bitter irony.

Julian believed the farm had been a kindness.

He had no idea how many nights she had spent shivering in a filthy cattle shed, how often the guards had beaten her, or how close she had come to starving. And judging by his expression, she doubted he would believe her even if she told him.

She tried once more to free her wrists, but Julian interpreted her resistance as another sign of defiance.

"Three years, and you still haven't learned anything," he muttered.

His gaze moved toward the large refrigerated storage room at the back of the kitchen.

A thought occurred to him.

Perhaps Evelyn needed to experience a fraction of what Camille had endured before she could understand the seriousness of her actions.

Without warning, Julian pulled her toward the refrigerated room.

Evelyn stumbled after him, struggling to keep her balance as her injured feet dragged across the floor.

"Julian, what are you doing?" she asked, panic beginning to rise in her voice.

He opened the heavy insulated door.

The room was normally kept at two degrees Celsius to preserve fresh ingredients, and a wave of cold air immediately washed over Evelyn's face.

Her body stiffened.

"No," she whispered, trying to step backward. "Julian, please don't."

But Julian pushed her inside.

Evelyn fell onto the cold floor, catching herself awkwardly with her injured hands. Before she could get up, Julian reached toward the temperature controls and lowered the setting to minus twenty degrees Celsius.

"You'll stay in here for ten minutes," he announced. "Maybe then you'll understand what Camille went through."

The door slammed shut.

Evelyn scrambled to her feet and threw herself against it.

"Julian! Open the door!"

Her voice echoed through the refrigerated room.

She grabbed the handle, but it would not move. The cold metal burned against her already damaged fingers, and the dim overhead light made the narrow room feel disturbingly similar to the cattle shed where she had spent so many winter nights.

Memories rushed over her before she could stop them.

She remembered waking with frost on her blanket, unable to straighten her fingers. She remembered guards forcing her to work outdoors while snow soaked through her shoes, and the unbearable pain that followed whenever she tried to warm her swollen hands.

She had barely survived those winters.

Now she was trapped in the cold again.

"Please!" Evelyn cried, pounding on the door. "Julian, I'm begging you! Let me out!"

Outside, Julian heard her frantic knocking.

For a brief moment, he hesitated.

Then he remembered Camille lying in a hospital bed after the accident, her skin pale and her breathing weak. He remembered the doctors warning that the exposure to extreme cold might leave lasting damage.

His sympathy disappeared.

"So now you know how to beg?" he called through the door. "If you'd shown this much remorse three years ago, maybe Father would have brought you home sooner!"

Evelyn pressed her forehead against the door, tears running down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, though she no longer knew what she was apologizing for. "Please, Julian. I can't stay here."

Julian shook his head.

To him, her desperate pleading sounded like another performance intended to escape punishment.

"Ten minutes," he repeated before walking away.

Inside the refrigerated room, Evelyn continued pounding until her hands became too painful to move.

The temperature dropped steadily, and her thin clothing offered almost no protection. Her injured joints began aching with a familiar, unbearable intensity, while violent shivers made it difficult to remain standing.

She tried rubbing her arms, but her fingers were already growing numb.

Minutes passed.

Evelyn could no longer tell whether she was in the Fenrir mansion or back at the prison farm. The darkness around her seemed to deepen, and every breath scraped painfully through her chest.

She stumbled toward the door again.

"Help..." Her voice was barely audible. "Someone, please..."

Her knees buckled.

She sank onto the floor, curling into herself as she had done countless times during the winters at the farm.

Eventually, even the shivering began to weaken.

Her eyelids grew heavy, and the sounds around her seemed to drift farther away.

By the time her body slumped against the wall, she no longer had the strength to call for help.

Meanwhile, Levi Carter was making his way through the Fenrir mansion.

Kevin had instructed him to identify the mysterious woman who had appeared at the upstairs window, but his initial inquiries had produced little information. None of the servants he questioned seemed to know who she was, and the upper hallway had been empty when he checked it.

Levi decided to investigate the service wing, where staff members might have noticed an unfamiliar guest.

As he passed the kitchen, however, he heard something unusual.

A faint sound came from behind the refrigerated storage door.

At first, he thought someone was moving equipment inside, but then he caught what sounded like a woman's weak voice.

"Help..."

Levi stopped immediately. He approached the door and listened.

The voice had disappeared.

"Is someone in there?" he called, trying the handle.

“Please..."

Levi turned toward the nearest servant. "Get someone with a key. Now! Someone was trapped!"

His commanding tone sent the servant hurrying down the corridor. The commotion soon reached the sitting room, where Kevin was speaking with Marcus.

When Marcus heard that someone might be trapped inside the refrigerated storage room, he immediately stood and followed Levi toward the kitchen.

"What happened?" Kevin demanded.

"I heard a woman calling for help," Levi explained. "The door is locked, and she's stopped responding."

Marcus' expression hardened.

"Open it."

A servant arrived with the key, his hands trembling as he unlocked the heavy door.

The moment it swung open, a blast of freezing air spilled into the kitchen.

A young woman lay motionless on the floor, her thin body curled against the wall. Her lips had turned bluish, and her exposed hands looked swollen and discolored.

For a second, Kevin could hardly believe what he was seeing.

Then he removed his coat and knelt beside her.

"Miss? Can you hear me?"

There was no answer.

He carefully wrapped the coat around her, covering as much of her body as possible before lifting her into his arms.

She was frighteningly light.

As he adjusted her against his chest, her pale face emerged from beneath the collar of his coat.

Kevin's breath caught.

Something about her features struck him with such force that he momentarily forgot the people gathering around them.

"Levi, call a doctor immediately," he ordered, carrying her toward the stairs. "Tell them we have a medical emergency. Have the servants prepare warm water, soup, and a room with a fireplace. Keep the room warm, but don't let anyone try to heat her too quickly."

Levi immediately reached for his phone.

Kevin continued upstairs, holding the unconscious woman securely against his chest.

Her body felt unnaturally cold even through his clothing, and he could barely detect the movement of her breathing.

Then, as he reached the landing, her eyelids fluttered.

For one brief moment, she opened her eyes.

Kevin stopped.

Those beautiful green eyes were unmistakable.

They were the same eyes that had haunted his dreams for two years, the eyes he remembered seeing while drifting between life and death after the attack.

His heart seemed to miss a beat.

Before he could speak, however, the young woman's eyelids fell shut again.

Her breathing became so faint that he could barely feel it.

Kevin tightened his hold on her and hurried toward the nearest room, "DOCTOR! WHERE THE HELL IS THE DOCTOR?"