Shadows in the Mansion

The heavy door of Max’s secret room slammed shut, the sound reverberating in Rory’s ears long after she had left. Her footsteps hurried through the empty halls, each sound bouncing off the cold, polished walls of the house. Max’s words remained, their weight pressing down on her chest: You have no idea what you’ve just walked into.

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She didn’t. But she would.

The morning sunlight streamed through the massive windows, bathing the mansion’s grand hall in golden light. Yet, the warmth of the sun couldn’t chase away the chill that clung to every part of the sprawling estate. Rory stood at the base of the grand stairs, her arms crossed tightly as she surveyed her surroundings.

Max had left early, his exit abrupt and without explanation.

“Business,” he had said curtly before getting into his sleek black car.

Now, Rory was alone. For the first time since she had set foot in this house, the home felt unnervingly quiet—too quiet. A faint unease crept up her spine as she looked at the high ceilings and shadowed corridors.

This place is like him, she thought. Beautiful on the outside, but cold and unwelcoming within.

She moved through the rooms, each more expensive and impersonal than the last. The furniture was beautiful but stiff, the art expensive but devoid of soul. It was a house made to impress, not to live in. And Rory felt like a trespasser, even though her name was now tied to this place.

Her wanderings led her to the library, a cavernous place with walls lined with towering bookshelves. The smell of leather and aged paper filled the air, a small comfort amidst the mansion’s sterility. Rory ran her fingers along the spines of the books, her eyes skimming over names she didn’t recognize.

She paused, her eyes catching on a faint disturbance in the otherwise perfect row of books. One of them was slightly out of place, its spine curved just a fraction differently than the others. Rory paused before pulling it free.

The book slid out easily, but instead of showing more shelves, a faint click echoed in the room. Rory stepped back as a section of the bookshelf shifted, sliding open to show a hidden passageway. Her pulse quickened.

What the hell?

Curiosity pushed her forward. The passageway was narrow, poorly lit by a single flickering bulb overhead. The walls were bare concrete, a stark contrast to the grandeur of the rest of the house. As she ventured deeper, the air grew colder, the faint hum of machinery getting louder.

At the end of the tunnel was a steel door, slightly ajar. Rory’s breath caught as she pushed it open, showing a room filled with monitors and servers. The screens showed live feeds of various locations—the mansion’s entrance, the driveway, even her bedroom. A chill ran down her spine as she realized Max had been watching her every move.

“Paranoid bastard,” she whispered under her breath, her fingers curling into fists.

But it wasn’t just spying. On one of the monitors, she saw blueprints—not of the house, but of a building she didn’t recognize. Documents were scattered across a nearby desk, some having the Dumont name, others stamped with the logo of a company she’d never heard of. A flash drive sat precariously on the edge of the desk, its small red light blinking weakly.

Rory’s hands shook as she picked it up. Whatever this is, it’s important, she thought. And if Max was hiding it, she needed to know why.

She spent the rest of the day in her room, the flash drive tucked safely in her pocket. Her mind raced with questions, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. Max had secrets, that much was clear. But how far did they go? And what did they have to do with her family?

As the sun set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, Rory stared out the window. The sprawling estate below seemed peaceful, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that danger was hiding just beneath the surface.

Her phone buzzed on the desk, breaking her thoughts. She grabbed it, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the name on the screen: Elijah.

She paused before answering. “Hello?”

“Rory, darling,” Elijah’s smooth voice drawled. “How’s married life treating you?”

“Cut the crap, Elijah. What do you want?”

He chuckled, the sound both infuriating and disturbing. “You wound me. Can’t a brotherinlaw check in on his favorite sisterinlaw?”

“Spit it out,” she snapped, her patience wearing thin.

Elijah’s tone shifted, getting darker. “Just a friendly warning. Be careful where you poke your nose. Max doesn’t take kindly to trespassers.”

Rory’s grip tightened on the phone. “Is that a threat?”

“Not at all,” Elijah answered smoothly. “Just some brotherly advice. Have a good night, Rory.”

The line went dead, leaving her with more questions than solutions. She set the phone down, her mind racing. How much did Elijah know? And was he watching her, too?

Sleep didn’t come easily that night. Rory tossed and turned, her mind reviewing the events of the day. The secret room, the monitoring, the flash drive now hidden beneath her mattress. Every piece of the puzzle only increased the mystery, and she was no closer to finding answers.

In the early hours of the morning, a sound jolted her awake. It was faint, barely heard, but enough to set her on edge. She sat up, trying to hear. There it was again—a soft creak, like footsteps in the hall.

Her heart raced as she slipped out of bed, her bare feet silent against the wooden floor. She crept to the door, putting her ear against it. The sound grew louder, closer. Someone was outside.

Summoning her confidence, she yanked the door open, her eyes scanning the dimly lit hallway. It was empty. But the dread in her chest only grew stronger.

Rory stepped into the hall, her eyes darting to the darkness. “Who’s there?” she called, her voice calm despite the fear creeping up her spine.

Silence.

She took a careful step forward, then another. The mansion’s silence was deafening, the air thick with stress. As she turned the corner, a figure appeared from the shadows, stopping her in her tracks.

It was Max.

His face was unreadable, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the energy between them crackling like a live wire.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice calm but carrying an edge.

Rory’s heart pounded in her chest. “I thought I heard something.”

Max stepped closer, his gaze never leaving hers. “This house has a way of playing tricks on you. But you should be more careful, Rory. It’s easy to get lost in the dark.”

The warning in his tone was clear. Rory clenched her hands, her defiance sparking once more. “Maybe I don’t mind the dark.”

A ghost of a smile flashed across Max’s lips. “You should.”

Without another word, he turned and walked away, his footsteps fading into the darkness. Rory stood frozen, her mind racing. Max knew something. He always did. And whatever game he was playing, she was determined to beat him at it.

As she returned to her room, her resolve toughened. She would find the truth—no matter what it took. But as she lay in bed, holding the flash drive tightly, a nagging thought gnawed at her:

What if I’m already in over my head?