The Cellar Natasha Preston Novels & Stories

She's sure the news must have circulated around the whole earth. Natasha stood up from the bed and limped into the bathroom. Her mind raced as she pulled out the small notebook from behind the cabinet. Some pages were filled with scribbled notes, observations, and tiny plans. She jotted down some things. *The maids' schedules. *The time Alexander leaves the house. *Which rooms have unlocked windows. *Who among the staff might be sympathetic. *Which doors required keys to unlock. Her fingers traced the silk collar around her neck. The trap she wore.

Natasha mumbles but doesn’t give the girl the opportunity to reply as she hastily brushes past her. “El, are you good, Julien left “ Natasha starts to say but trails off when she realizes she is the only one in the backyard. She takes a tentative step and surveys the backyard for any tell-tale sign of her sister, she stalks towards the trash bags and she nearly trips on the ground. Her eyes falter to the ground and her blood runs cold as she fiddles with the dainty white material responsible for her demise. It’s Elsida’s apron. ➿➿➿

He stares at her like he has never seen her before, his mouth opening and closing, no sound coming out. “What is this?” His voice cracks on the words, raw and broken. “Natasha, what are you doing?” She laughs, a low, cold sound that echoes off the wooden walls. “Natasha is dead. She died of pneumonia in that lab three years after the Tribunal took her. Same as your little sister Lila. Her lungs were too weak, the doctors did not bother to treat her. They dumped her body in the same river as the rest of the disposable captives.”

Unlike Cassie, Natasha was not that great in crowded places. She got up from her bed and was just walking out of her room when she failed to notice the tiny green sparks of light suddenly shoot across her right arm after opening the door and stepping through. She walked over to the kitchen in her pajamas and stopped next to the fridge where her mother had left her a note. Hey, honey. Please pick up the Life Cell at the store. Love you! Mom

Natasha immediately drew out a sharp small knife from her pocked and disconnected one of the wires of the brake and pierced two small, tinny holes on the diesel tank. " Perfect–" She smiled. " Enjoy your ride to the world of our ancestors– my dear, Gisella." She eluded and crept back to her room. END OF FLASHBACK Natasha gazed at the clock for the last time and glanced back at the screen, expectantly. " Time up" She said on an impulse. "No escape this time, baby girl– send my warm greetings to your bastard dad and that bitch of a mother." She exclaimed, chuckling.

Everything is a mess; I should have stayed miles away from him like I planned, but somehow that tiny flicker of hope inside of me is destroying all my willpower. Natasha comes out of the nearby bedroom as we enter Arrick’s penthouse apartment, her little brown curled head and slight frame just make her look like a little lost puppy dog, and it’s clear by her makeup-free face that she’s been crying at some point. Natasha is never without her makeup, and seeing her now, I see she is a lot plainer looking than I ever realized. She has that girl next door quality and looks a lot better when made up. It feels odd to see her like this, like I am seeing the girl beyond the outer shell for a moment.

“She’s a liar! She’s vindictive! She’s trying to ruin me because my son left her at the altar!” Mrs. Pence’s brows wrinkle. “That was your son? Besides, I thought she left him at the altar?” Natasha freezes, her lips quivering. “Let’s talk about her application, shall we?” I interrupt, flashing a wicked smile. “Natasha told you that she owns a luxury estate in the hills, didn't she? You want to hear the truth?” She rents a cramped, roach-infested apartment in the slums, and the only reason she can even afford the monthly dues to be a part of the club is because she rips every penny from her son until he’s completely dry.”

Shawn deftly pushed the button for the top floor. The smell of coffee drifted in as the elevator doors opened. Having worked in pharmaceuticals, Natasha had a very keen sense of smell. The smell of coffee was very familiar to her, but she could not remember where she had smelled it before. Suddenly, Shawn stopped walking and said, "This is the room." Natasha looked at the wooden door in front of her and knocked on it with confidence. She wasn't worried about how Marcus would treat her since she was coming as "Mrs. Grayson" today. She was sure Marcus would treat her well for the Grayson family's sake.

Too stunned to utter a word, too shocked to move, Natasha stood transfixed, watching the back of the large woman walk down the hallway and disappear into a corner. Her eyes moved from the now empty hallway to the room that now stood open before her. At the center of the small room, she saw a body under a light blue sheet on the trolley. As if under a spell, she trudged towards it. By the time she reached the trolley, she was shaking from head to toe. She heaved a long sigh to steady her shaking hands as she clutched the corner of the sheet and lifted it. Although she had steeled herself for the sight. The pain still struck her with the sharpness of a bite of grit in a mouthful of food.

He pushed me forward. I helped Greg to his feet, but color drained from his face, and he groaned with pain. Natasha frisked Greg and took his cell phone. “Move. In there,” Natasha said. He forced us into the dungeon room. Greg’s face paled as I helped him walk. Twice, he nearly collapsed. “Take what you want and let us go,” I pleaded. In the red room, Natasha seemed to know where to find things. Keeping the gun pointed on us, he opened a drawer and threw handcuffs to me. “Put these on him then kneel on the floor,” he ordered.