an oppressive silence. Chloe's hand flew to her mouth, st

k with sweat, and pushed open the heavy double

val-style four-poster bed dominated the space, its dark wood frame like a cage. She sat on the edge of the mat

ep, the rhythmic tap... tap... of a cane striking the marble floor. The sound grew l

were thrown open w

on a thick wooden cane. The light from the hall was behind him, casting his face in shadow. A sharp, chemi

oom, the sound distorted and inhuman

mmanded, striking the doorframe with h

. She scrambled backward on the bed, her back

ing rhythm. He stopped beside the bed and lifted th

rasped, his voice full of contemp

ain. The memory of that night, the feeling of powerlessness, ignited a spark o

down. It clattered on the hardwood floor. He reache

ct, fumbled across the surface of the nightstand. Her fingers closed arou

ree, squeezed her eyes shut, and

she screamed, the

as a soft, sickening sound, like a knif

ened h

saw it. He had caught the blade. His gloved hand was wr

h the seams of the leather. It dripped onto

ound escaped his lips-a low, p

s the wro

f an old man. It was the sound of a young,

the information. The letter opener fell fro

. He took two stumbling steps away from the

nded forced, unsteady. "You're insane," he snarled. He turned and fled t

slammed shut, s

in deep, ragged breaths. Her eyes were fixed on the dark, spreading stains on the rug.

grand staircase, searching for a cleaning closet. The first floor was dark and sile

ring the hushed voice

something awful. He went straight to the basement. I'm telli

two," another voice

k to the relative safety of her room, but in her haste, her hip bumped against a

nside the room s

ing light. Motion-sensor chandeliers blazed to life, ma

ened them,

his jacket was unbuttoned, as if he had thrown it on in a frantic hurry. His face was a masterpiece of sharp angles and stark beauty, like

e that made her breat

hief tightly around his palm, a stark contrast to his dark suit. And in the cente