Chapter 17

Valerie's POV

The sound of Silas's voice seemed to stop time itself.

For one brief moment, everything inside me froze.

The darkness.

The hallway.

The distant forest beyond the glass.

Even my heartbeat felt suspended between one second and the next.

I slowly turned toward him.

Moonlight filtered through the towering windows behind us, casting silver reflections across the polished floor. The faint glow outlined his figure in shadows and light, making him appear less like a man and more like part of the mansion itself.

Watching.

Waiting.

Knowing.

My pulse immediately betrayed me.

He knew.

I didn't know how, but he knew exactly what I had been planning.

The realization irritated me more than it should have.

Perhaps because it reminded me how little privacy existed inside this place.

Or perhaps because I hated being caught.

Especially by him.

Silas stood motionless several feet away.

His expression revealed nothing.

Yet something in his eyes felt different tonight.

Sharper.

More alert.

As though he had been expecting this moment.

As though he had been waiting for it.

"You startled me," I said.

My voice sounded calmer than I felt.

"That wasn't difficult."

The response came immediately.

Flat.

Controlled.

Annoyingly accurate.

I folded my arms.

A defensive gesture.

One I regretted the moment I did it.

Showing weakness around Silas always felt like a mistake.

"Do you spend every night following people through hallways?"

"No."

His gaze moved briefly toward the main entrance.

Then back to me.

"Only when those people are planning something foolish."

I stared at him.

The confidence in his statement immediately bothered me.

"You don't know what I was planning."

His expression remained unchanged.

"You were heading toward the south grounds."

The certainty in his voice removed any possibility of denial.

My silence confirmed everything.

A faint shadow crossed his features.

Not satisfaction.

Frustration.

As though he had hoped I would prove him wrong.

"You should go back to your room."

There it was again.

An order.

Every conversation eventually returned to one.

My patience immediately thinned.

"Why?"

The question escaped before I could stop it.

Not because I expected an answer.

But because I was tired.

Tired of warnings.

Tired of secrets.

Tired of everyone speaking in riddles while expecting blind obedience.

Silas remained silent.

The familiar silence irritated me even more.

"That's becoming a habit."

His gaze narrowed slightly.

"What is?"

"Refusing to answer simple questions."

The air between us seemed to tighten.

For several seconds neither of us spoke.

Outside, wind swept through the pale forest below the cliffs.

The branches swayed beneath moonlight like thousands of skeletal fingers reaching toward the sky.

The sight made the mansion feel even more isolated.

More distant from reality.

More trapped inside its own secrets.

Finally, Silas exhaled.

A small movement.

Barely noticeable.

Yet strangely human.

"You think answers will help."

I frowned.

"They usually do."

"No."

His eyes settled on mine.

"They don't."

The certainty in his voice unsettled me.

Not because he sounded arrogant.

Because he sounded experienced.

As though he had learned that lesson personally.

Painfully.

The realization created an unexpected crack in my frustration.

For a moment, I wondered what kind of answers had hurt him badly enough to believe that.

The thought disappeared as quickly as it arrived.

Curiosity remained dangerous around Silas.

Every time I started seeing something human beneath the cold exterior, he immediately reminded me why distance existed between us.

"You still haven't told me what's in that building."

His expression hardened instantly.

There it was.

The wall.

The familiar barrier sliding back into place.

I almost regretted asking.

Almost.

Silas looked toward the distant structure visible through the glass.

The isolated building sat beyond the forest like a forgotten memory.

Silent.

Waiting.

Even from here, it seemed wrong somehow.

Separate from the rest of the estate.

Disconnected.

As though it belonged to another story entirely.

When Silas finally spoke, his voice sounded quieter.

"Nothing that concerns you."

The answer sparked immediate anger.

Nothing concerned me.

That was always the answer.

Nothing concerned me.

Nothing involved me.

Nothing required explanation.

Yet somehow every secret inside this mansion seemed connected to me anyway.

Connected to the wives.

Connected to the portraits.

Connected to whatever had happened before I arrived.

I took a step closer.

Then another.

The distance between us shortened.

For the first time, I didn't look away.

"If it doesn't concern me," I said softly, "then why does everyone keep warning me about it?"

Something shifted in his gaze.

Small.

But unmistakable.

Surprise.

Apparently he hadn't expected that question.

Neither had I.

The words had emerged naturally.

Built from days of unanswered questions and growing suspicion.

Silas studied me carefully.

As though trying to decide how much I already knew.

Or how much I suspected.

The silence stretched.

Long enough for my heartbeat to become distracting.

Long enough for uncertainty to creep into my confidence.

Then he spoke.

"Who warned you?"

I almost smiled.

Not because the conversation was pleasant.

Because he had finally asked a question instead of avoiding one.

Progress.

Tiny progress.

Still progress.

"Mrs. Rose."

A flicker crossed his face.

Gone almost immediately.

But I saw it.

Concern.

The emotion surprised me.

Silas rarely reacted to anything.

Yet Mrs. Rose's name had clearly affected him.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

"What exactly did she say?"

I repeated the warning as accurately as I could remember.

When I finished, silence returned.

This time it felt heavier.

The kind of silence that carried memories.

Old ones.

Dangerous ones.

Silas looked away first.

Toward the forest.

Toward the darkness.

Toward something only he could see.

And for the first time since meeting him, he appeared tired.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

Like a man carrying a weight no one else could see.

The sight caught me off guard.

Because it made him seem real.

Not the billionaire.

Not the Eraser.

Just a man.

A complicated one.

A damaged one.

The realization unsettled me far more than his coldness ever had.

Coldness was easy to understand.

Humanity wasn't.

Especially his.

"Go back to your room, Valerie."

His voice sounded softer now.

Not gentle.

Just tired.

"Please."

The word shocked me.

Please.

I wasn't sure I had ever heard him say it before.

That single word changed everything.

Not enough to erase my curiosity.

Not enough to erase my suspicion.

But enough to make me pause.

Because people didn't say please when they were protecting secrets.

They said please when they were protecting someone.

And suddenly I wasn't entirely certain which one Silas was trying to do.

For several seconds, neither of us moved.

Then a distant sound echoed through the mansion.

A sharp metallic noise.

Faint.

Yet unmistakable.

Silas reacted instantly.

The transformation was immediate.

Every trace of weariness disappeared.

His posture stiffened.

His eyes sharpened.

The atmosphere around him changed so quickly it felt almost frightening.

I heard it too.

A second metallic sound.

Somewhere below us.

Deep within the mansion.

My stomach tightened.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Silas's attention focused toward the eastern corridor.

Listening.

Calculating.

Waiting.

Then he spoke a single sentence.

And the fear in his voice terrified me far more than the sound itself.

"Get back to your room. Now."