Chapter 5

The Ice-Cold Stranger

The property was both large and quiet. Every step I took reverberated through the marble corridors, reminding me of how alone I was in this opulent jail. The opulence, with its tall ceilings and long hallways, only contributed to the distance between Jack and myself.

Our new "home" was a stronghold in a cliff with a view of the sea. Day and night, a spooky symphony of waves crashing on the cliffs far below. In the stifling silence, the house itself seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for something to break it.

I had not heard from Jack since the wedding. His study door, made of strong oak, was usually closed. Occasionally, I would get a sight of him, walking down the corridors or enjoying a glass of whiskey while sitting in the library. But he didn't really look at me. I couldn't understand his thoughts, therefore his eyes were constantly elsewhere.

Trying to keep myself occupied, I looked around the house and got to know the employees. Though their courteous grins never quite reached their eyes, even they appeared cautious. It seemed as though they were privy to a secret that I was too new to comprehend, or that they knew something that I did not.

When I couldn't stand the solitude any longer one day, I went into the study. I hesitated, then pushed the door open, which was partly open. There was Jack sitting at a huge desk with papers strewn around it. His sleeves were pulled up, his hair looked a little mussed, and his jacket was off. He appeared, for once, human. Nearly at risk.

Softly, "Jack," I said.

With an unreadable expression, he looked up. "Amelia," he answered in a bland voice. "Do you need something?"

I forced a swallow. "I thought... maybe we could talk."

Though it wasn't a smile, his lips quirked. "Talk about what?"

"This," I murmured, pointing around. "You. This arrangement. But whatever we're doing here."

He reclined in his chair and used those cold eyes to examine me. "We have nothing to discuss. We both understand your purpose for being here.

"Do we?" Dissatisfaction boiled to the surface as I shot back. For the simple reason that I feel like a piece of furniture that you moved into your home. Will things be this way? While you're sheltering here, I'm ghostly exploring the hallways."

His mouth clenched, but he remained silent. Rather, he got up and passed by the window, gazing out at the sea. There was an obvious tension in the room, and I had the impression that I was hovering on the brink of something I didn't entirely comprehend.

When he eventually turned away from me, he remarked, "You're free to do as you please." I won't pretend to be the devoted husband, though. Amelia, this is not a sweet story.

His remarks hurt, but I didn't show him how much. "No," I answered unwaveringly. "This isn't a perfect story. This is a nightmare.

His eyes were keen as he turned. I waited for him to say something, but then he went by me and left the study without saying anything else. He closed the door with a click, leaving me standing there with his lack of concern bearing down on me.

I couldn't sleep that night while I lay in the enormous bed, which felt more like a prison. Outside, windows rattled with the howl of the wind, and the water roared like a vengeful beast. I was thinking in a flurry of bewilderment and frustration. Jack Sterling appeared intent on keeping me at a distance no matter what, and he was a mystery to me.

There was a small creak, like a door opening, as I glanced at the ceiling. My heartbeat accelerated, and I sat up, listening with difficulty. Next came a closer sound, like footfall on the hardwood floor.

Feeling my heart racing, I slipped out of bed. Only the dim shine of the moon outside provided light for the dark dwelling. Peeking out into the corridor, I slipped to the door. Even though it was empty, I could still feel someone watching me.

"Hello?" With a voice hardly audible above a whisper, I called out.

There was no answer.

I was chilled by the cool floor as soon as I entered the hall. This time the noise came from downstairs. Curiosity overcame my hesitation, despite my instincts telling me to remain where I was. I moved slowly down the opulent staircase, my weight making each step creak.

The floor was covered in deep, dark shadows, and the great hall was deserted. After being pulled by an unseen force, I turned to face the study. Similar to earlier, the door was slightly open, and a dim light seeped into the corridor.

Breath stopping in my throat, I pushed open the door. Although the room was deserted, the desk was a complete mess, with drawers pushed open and papers all over the place. Someone must have been looking for something.

There was nothing there, but I spun around when I noticed a movement in the corner of my eye. My heart was pounding as I looked back at the desk and noticed one piece of paper that didn't seem to belong there. The words scribbled across it sent a chill down my spine as I lifted it up:

Some things are not as they seem.

Before I could comprehend its meaning, a hand firmly grasped my shoulder. With a gasp, I turned to see Jack standing there with a dark, unreadable countenance.

He demanded in a low, menacing voice, "What have been you doing in here?"

I stumbled and held up the paper, saying, "I heard something," "And I found this."

He grabbed it out of my hand and read it, his mouth clenched. For a brief time, I believed I caught a glimpse of something perhaps fear in his eyes, but it vanished right away.

He said, "Go back to bed, Amelia," in a tone that had no room for any disagreement.

"Jack, what’s going on?" With a shaky voice, I forced. "Who wrote that?"

He responded, "It’s nothing," with a stern glare. "Forget you saw it."

However, I saw he was lying as he turned away and slipped the paper into his pocket. Whatever secrets Jack Sterling was keeping, I knew then that they were much more deadly than I had thought.