Semua Bab THE BILLIONAIRE'S BURIED TWIN : Bab 11 - Bab 17

The door clicked shut behind Viktor. Elara stood alone in the library.Her hands were trembling. She pressed them flat against her thighs, but they wouldn't stop. The fire had died to embers. The room smelled like old books and smoke and the faint, fading trace of Viktor's cologne.He believed me.The thought circled in her mind like a trapped bird. Viktor had looked at her, really looked and seen past the diamonds and the designer clothes. He'd seen Elara, the cleaner, the foster kid, the imposter and he hadn't walked away.She walked to the window. The gardens were dark. Somewhere out there, Viktor was driving back to his bar, probably already working and somewhere in this house—somewhere very close—the truth about Isabella was waiting.What am I doing?The question came from somewhere deep. A voice she'd been ignoring for weeks.I should be enjoying this. I have food, I have warmth, Alexander wants me. He's starting to need me. I could just… stay, play my part, keep my head down.N

The key turned with a soft click that seemed to echo through the entire east wing, and Elara pushed the door open. The bedroom was massive. A four-poster bed dominated the center of the room, its curtains once white, now yellow. A fireplace sat cold and dark against the far wall, filled with ash so old it had turned to gray powder. A dressing table stood near the window, its surface still cluttered with perfume bottles and jewelry boxes and a silver hairbrush that matched the one she had seen in the bathroom. The curtains were drawn, but enough moonlight filtered through the frayed edges to cast everything in a pale, ghostly glow. The air was different in here. Colder, heavier. It smelled like old smoke and dried roses and the faint, stale trace of charred wood, so old it was more memory than scent. She stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind her, leaving it slightly ajar in case she needed to run. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her temples, but her han

Elara stood outside the east wing door with her hand pressed flat against the cold wood. Her heart was beating so hard she could feel it in her temples. The corridor behind her was empty. The house was quiet. Somewhere far away, a vacuum hummed and a maid laughed at something someone said, but here, at the entrance to the abandoned wing, there was only silence.She had walked past this door a few times without stopping. Every servant in the house did the same. It was invisible by agreement, a threshold everyone had learned not to cross and now she was going to cross it.The key was in her pocket, cold and heavy against her thigh. She wrapped her fingers around it, took one last look down the empty hallway, and pushed the door open.The hinges groaned. She froze, her whole body rigid, listening. No footsteps, no voices, nothing.She stepped inside and pulled the door shut behind her. The darkness swallowed her whole. She stood motionless with her palm pressed against the closed door, b