I backed out slowly, making sure my boots didn't creak so as not to alert anyone if they were still here.I clutched my phone tightly in one hand and tried to calm the storm that was my breathing. I entered the kitchen and grabbed the first knife I saw.
Who could it be? One of my father's men? They certainly never entered my space. Infact, they stayed away from me unless it was absolutely necessary. Who then could it be? One of father's adversaries?
That thought sent a thrill through me. I moved back to the bedroom just as slowly. I could be paranoid but I was rarely wrong and that window was a dead giveaway.
The bedroom door creaked as I pushed it open, revealing the familiar clutter of my books, clothes and the chocolate wrap I failed to dispose of yesterday. I stepped into the bedroom, doing a quick sweep but it was empty. Everything was in place.
But I felt the wrongness in the air. It wasn't the kind of wrong you could point to right away—no shattered glass, no drawers torn open or furniture overturned. It was definitely not a theft. It was a deliberate breaking and entering.
I opened the bathroom door, half expecting someone to lunge out. But there was nothing. Everything was in place. I stepped out and moved towards the window, checking outside to see if the intruder left anything; any clue. But still there was nothing. All that was there was just the three mismatched terracotta pots with herbs and the stubborn tomato plant that refused to thrive no matter how much I tended it.
I did a quick sweep of the house, checking windows, glancing over surfaces, looking for any sign of intrusion. A footprint. A cracked door. But there was nothing. Everything was the way I left it the night before.
Whoever it was had left no trace. But I knew someone had been here. They had messed with my mind, probably leaving that window unlocked so I could find it. And somehow, that was worse than if they had taken anything.
✨
I eased my car down the street, turning the car towards the corner that led to my father's house. It was a little distance from the main town and it was a vast land.
I stopped in front of the gate, waiting to be identified before I could enter. Security purposes and all. The gate opened slowly and I entered, ignoring the many guards I met on the way.
I decided to avoid the parking lot in case I needed a quick escape. I noticed some cars that did not belong parked right outside the main house. Dad had visitors.
I stepped out and looked at the house. My father's house was a masterpiece of architecture—vast and flawless. According to him, the house has been in the family since the 1800s. Although it has undergone various renovations over the years, it still had that historical look. It was a mix of modern and Victorian age. The exterior was all stone and glass, imposing yet elegant, with perfectly manicured hedges lining the long, gated driveway. It was the kind of place that appeared in magazines but never quite felt like a home.
I stepped into the house, almost bumping into Hatter, Dad's butler In his haste to open the door.
" It's just me, Hatter. I've told you times without numbers to stop opening the door for me whenever I come here. I'm not Cat", I grumbled, stepping away from him to avoid his hands that were trying to take my coat.
The living room was pristine, with sleek, modern furniture in muted tones of gray and cream. The fireplace was lit more out of habit than comfort. They had heaters installed for that.
" it is my job, miss Viana and you know it". I shook my head at him and stepped inside fully. The air was still, too still.
" Dad has a visitor?"
Hatter frowned. He was uncomfortable which meant the visitors were here for business. That kind of business. I had my answer. I was to avoid Dad's office till they left. He never let them see me or the other way round even though Cat was fully involved in all his business. I was kind of glad he never let me join him. I'd hate to be involved in the mafia and boss Lord business.
My room was upstairs, down the hall but I would have to pass by his office. I sighed. I was back to tipping around. I walked towards the stairs, polished marble floors echoed every footstep and high ceilings stretched above like a cathedral, impressive but silent.
Various art hung on the walls—real pieces, expensive, curated—but none of them was that of the family. We had only ever taken one portrait and I was fifteen.
Upstairs, the halls were long and quiet as if they were holding their breath out of fear of Dad's visitor, lined with closed doors that led to guest rooms rarely used. Dad's study was the only room that ever felt lived in mostly because he spent every waking day there.
I had grown-up here. Slept in one of mom's designed rooms. Cold and perfect. Just like her. I always thought if I grew up, things would change, but she was now more distant than ever. Every one of our lives was controlled by Dad. This house, it was just a version of success that looked impressive from the outside, but hollow once the doors closed.
I walked the stretch of the hall slowly, in no hurry to meet my Dad. I could hear voices drifting down the hallway. Dad's voice was a little raised as if he was rattled. This person had to be very important to rattle my father. He always prided himself in his ability to maintain his cool no matter the situation.
This was bad news for me. He'll be so irritable today that I'd have to be extra careful not to annoy him. I scowled, developing an automatic dislike for the person he was meeting. I hurried towards his office, in a desperate attempt to pass without drawing his attention to me.
The door to his office was slightly ajar, as if someone had entered in a hurry and forgot to close it properly. I caught a glimpse of the person he was talking to and stopped. Curiosity got the better of me. I had seen black jet hair and what looked to be a suit. The person did not look like the normal old men who I always sneaked to look at whenever they visited. This person looked younger.
I crept back and leaned in, my hands holding the door back a little,in an attempt to see who it was. Dad looked red as if he was barely holding himself together. Even if I knew that meant trouble later, it was still funny and I chuckled. A little too loudly.
The person on the chair swirled towards the door and I panicked. In my haste to hide, I dragged the door, opening it a little wider, exposing myself to those in the room. I jerked my head up, knowing I was in trouble. Why was I always so curious?
My eyes darted to the man in the suit and I froze. What?? Him???