Cellar 13 Romane & Geschichten

The wine cellar. It was a vaulted, cavernous space beneath the kitchen, reached by a narrow, curved stone staircase. It was cold, dark, and lined with racks holding dusty bottles worth more than most houses. And in its farthest, darkest corner, behind a rack of 1945 Bordeaux, was a small, iron door—an old coal chute, long disused, that led to a narrow air shaft and, eventually, to the old boiler room and a forgotten exterior grate. His final, pathetic bolt-hole.

I pulled out my other phone and typed fast, one-handed, hard-breathing. Me: Come to the wine cellar. Ask Tom where it is. Don’t think. Just come. Sent. The wine cellar at Velluto Rosso wasn’t on the floorplan. It was lower, beneath the back kitchen, past the dry goods room, through a locked steel door disguised as a pantry wall. There were no windows, no lights, no noise from the outside, completely sound proof and under my control. I got there first, pushed the door shut behind me and locked it with a flick. The light overhead buzzed weakly, then I killed it, leaving us in black.

Elara’s heart pounded as they reached the bottom of the stairs, the flickering light from Lucan’s flashlight casting long shadows on the stone walls. “There,” Lucan said, pointing to a large iron door at the far end of the cellar. “That looks like it could be what we’re looking for.” Elara approached the door, her fingers trembling as she inserted the key into the lock. The mechanism clicked, and with a deep breath, Elara turned the handle. The door swung open, revealing a small room lined with shelves. At first glance, it looked like a simple storage space, but as Elara stepped inside, she saw the truth. The shelves were filled with ledgers, documents, and sealed envelopes, all carefully or

“We need to see the subterranean wing. You mentioned to my security team that it’s locked.” “Yes, sir. It’s been locked for months. Mrs. Lu—the lady who bought the property—told me it contained sensitive family documents, and no one was to enter under any circumstance.” He fumbled with a large, heavy ring of keys. “It’s in the oldest part of the cellar. Reinforced steel door.”

Nora whispered. She waited until Gebros turned his head to check the window. She slipped toward the back of the room, toward the small, heavy wooden door she had noticed earlier. The cellar. Check the cellar. See what your Alpha is really hiding. Nora grabbed a candle and slipped through the door, her heart hammering in her throat. The stairs were steep and smelled of damp earth and old copper. As she reached the bottom, the candlelight flickered over the stone walls. There were no wine racks. No storage bins.

Whatever happened will be handle the next day. But Fred and Thunder are filling the gold and silver ingots in the underground cellar made by Thunder and his assistant . The cellar as a big as a house is under the horse stables. There are thirty big cats filled with water and thirty beds with mattres cover with a big canvas . There are few cabinets filled with caned foods also few cabinets filled with weapons . Thunder had told him only him Thunder , Fred , their madam , master and eldest young master will known the cellar password . He had made the iron door for the safety measurements .

He chuckles deeply, “I don’t think you realize how terrifying you are, my love. Personally, I find it sexy, but I can see how even the bravest humans would be fearful of you.” He looks like he wants to fuck me right here on the kitchen floor, and I’m tempted to let him, but I want to get this done quickly. I walk to a small door at the back of the kitchen, open it, and run down the squeaky wooden stairs to the cellar. Samael rushes after me, “What are you doing?” “All these luxury houses have cellars for storing food,” I call out behind me, as my eyes roam along the shelves holding bottled meat and vegetables.

Mara stayed in a side street. She pulled out the keychain. The little white pendant was wet, the font almost smeared: 214 Jonas took him. Turned him around. There was something on the back. No room. No number. Only: B2 / Lift North Mara was breathing. The elevator. From the beginning. Not the room. Access. Elias rubbed his face. “The cellar again. I hate it when a horror movie is right.” They sneak back to the delivery farm. This time the side door was closed.

“When all this beauty fades, and more tantalizingly nubile women come to court to tempt your King and your Alphas?” “I’ll be begging you for runes and potions,” Margot murmurs, looking around the table. “To keep me young and pretty.” Mindy huffs a laugh. “Is there milk?” “You know where it is.” Margot huffs a very daughterly sigh, groaning exaggeratedly as she pushes herself up from the table and moves towards the little kitchen, bending low and lifting a trapdoor in the floor to reveal a tiny stone cellar beneath. My eyebrows raise when I realize it’s something like a springhouse – kept cold by the brook that feeds the sink. I look around again, thinking it’s really a fantastically clever l