That night,l couldn't find any sleep because, it brought back those memories that l had long gone forced myself to forget. And l hated every single second of it.
I kept on turning back forth in the sheets, my whole body drenched in sweat. I didn't know what was happening to me,but l really felt uncomfortable.
So l decided to go out and take a walk outside,to freshen up. Maybe the cold will do it,l thought to myself. Slipping the slippers on, l opened the door slowly, avoiding any squicky sounds which would come from it. And l slowly closed again. Turning around l started walking down the big walls in the hallway.
Alexander is really something,l just don't know where to start with him. One day he will act normal,and the next he is spacing out or acting in a moody weird way.
I just want to get over with this,and l also wonder why Liam gave this mission to me, l am not very experienced in this kind of field honestly, according to how l know myself.
What does he sees in me, really? Cassie is there,not forgetting Hannah. She is very very strong and l can't surpass her, no matter what l do. But l can't easily back down when l have to work hard,so that one day l will have enough to leave this job.
And start living on my own purpose and terms.
But the Quinns aren't anywhere close to make it easy for me,and l did agree to take on this challenge,so yeah l will charge up even more. From now on,l will be more in the act and also strengthen my connection with Liam so that he will be getting leads on where l am.
The night air was sharp but grounding. The sky stretched endlessly above me, scattered with distant stars that didn't care about what had happened hours earlier. I breathed deeply, again and again, trying to push the heaviness out of my chest.
That's when I saw it.
At the far end of the backyard—almost hidden by trees and shadow—there was a small shed. I hadn't noticed it before. It looked insignificant. Forgotten. But something about it pulled my attention, like a thread tugging at my instincts.
Then I saw movement.
A tall, lean man walked toward it, his posture unmistakable. My heart stuttered.
For a split second, I thought—
Alexander?
But that didn't make sense. He had told me that tonight he wasn't planoito stay the night. And maybe even for days. I stood there, frozen, trying to convince myself I was imagining things.
Two… maybe three other men followed behind him.
They didn't speak. They moved with purpose.
My pulse quickened. Every rational part of me said to go back inside, to turn around, to pretend I hadn't seen anything. But another part of me—the part that was already shaken, already raw—wanted answers.
I took a step forward.
Then another.
I was just about to follow them when the sound cut through the night.
A sharp click.
The door of the shed closed.
Then metal scraped against metal.
They locked it.
I stopped instantly, my breath catching in my throat.
The night felt different now. Heavier. Like I'd stumbled into something I wasn't meant to witness. I stood there, hidden in shadow, my mind racing—questions stacking on top of fear.
If that was Alexander…
what was he doing?
And why did it feel like I'd just crossed an invisible line without even moving?
The lock echoed again in my head.
And suddenly, the mansion behind me didn't feel as safe as it had an hour ago.
I stayed there longer than I should have.
My body finally remembered how to move before my mind could catch up, and I stepped back slowly, one careful step at a time, as if the darkness itself might hear me. Every sound felt too loud—the gravel under my feet, the rustle of leaves, my own breathing.
I didn't follow them.
Not because I didn't want to, but because something deep inside me whispered that whatever was behind that locked door was not meant for me to see. Not yet.
I turned away and walked back toward the house, forcing myself not to look over my shoulder. The mansion loomed ahead, its lights soft and warm, pretending to be a place of comfort. When I slipped back inside, I locked the door behind me without thinking.
Only then did my knees weaken.
I leaned against the wall, pressing my palm to my chest like I could steady my heart that way. My thoughts were scattered—Alexander leaving, Alexander returning, Alexander possibly standing in the dark with men who moved like shadows. Nothing fit. And I hated that the confusion tangled with fear until I couldn't tell them apart.
I went back to my room, but sleep still wouldn't come.
So I sat on the edge of the bed, pulling my knees close, replaying everything from the night—the bar, the silence afterward, the way Alexander had gone quiet on the drive home. Had he noticed how shaken I was? Had he chosen not to ask?
Or had he already been somewhere else in his mind?
At some point, exhaustion crept in despite my resistance. I lay down without changing, staring at the ceiling until my thoughts blurred and finally slipped away.
Morning came too quickly.
Soft light filtered through the curtains, and for a brief second I forgot everything. Then it all rushed back at once—the shed, the lock, the doubt. I sat up sharply, my heart racing again.
Downstairs, I could hear faint movement. The house was awake.
And for the first time since arriving, I realized something clearly:
this place wasn't just elegant and quiet.
It was hiding things.
And somehow, whether I wanted to or not, I was already part of it.
So whatever it will be now,l will face it no matter what.