The ding of the elevator was the sound of a guillotine dropping.
Elara's breath caught in her throat. Kian was back.
She was trapped inside his vault, surrounded by the ashes of his secrets.
Panic, cold and sharp, threatened to overwhelm her. She forced it down, her mind racing faster than her heart.
There was no time to put everything back perfectly. She shoved her mother's diary and the incriminating photographs back into the wooden box, closed the lid, and placed it back on the shelf. She didn't touch the ledgers.
*Her fingerprints were already on the box; moving more things would only create more evidence of her trespass.*
With trembling hands, she closed the heavy safe door. It swung shut with a muted, final thud.
She didn't re-lock it with the key.
*An unlocked safe would be suspicious, but a re-locked one would be definitive proof she had been inside.*
Leaving it unlocked was a gamble, a tiny thread of plausible deniability she clung to.
She took the phoenix key, her only piece of hard evidence, and tucked it deep into the waistband of her skirt, the cold metal a stark reminder of her transgression.
Then, she flattened herself against the interior wall of the vault, behind the massive door, praying it would conceal her when opened.
***
She heard Kian's footsteps cross the living room, heading directly for the study.
The soft click of the study door opening. Silence.
*He was in the room now.*
Time seemed to stretch, each second drawn out into an eternity. She could hear the soft rustle of his suit jacket as he likely picked it up from the chair.
*She imagined him checking the pocket, his brow furrowing when he found the key missing.*
Her body went rigid.
Then, she heard the faint hydraulic hiss. The bookshelf was opening.
Her heart stopped.
*This was it. He was coming in.*
Light flooded the vault. Kian stood silhouetted in the doorway.
*He hadn't come in to check on the vault. He had come to put the key back. The one key he thought was still in his jacket.*
He stepped inside, his back to her, reaching for the safe.
*He would see it was unlocked. He would turn around. He would see her.*
But in that split second, a chime emanated from the study. His phone. A sharp, insistent buzz.
Kian paused, his hand hovering over the safe. He glanced back towards his desk, annoyance flickering across his features. The call was clearly important.
With a curse under his breath, he made a decision. He stepped back out of the vault, leaving the door agape, and walked to his desk to answer the call.
*It was her only chance.*
A ghost in her own home, Elara slipped out from behind the vault door, her stockinged feet making no sound on the plush carpet. She didn't run for the door. She glided to the armchair in the corner of the study, the one furthest from his desk, and sank into it, picking up a book from the side table as if she had been there all along.
She forced herself to breathe evenly, her eyes fixed on the page, unseeing. Her entire body was a tightly coiled spring of pure adrenaline.
***
Kian's call was short, his voice clipped and authoritative.
When he hung up, the silence that fell was heavy, dangerous. He turned, and finally, he saw her.
He didn't look surprised. He looked intrigued.
"I didn't know you were in here," he said, his voice a low, neutral tone that set every nerve in her body on edge.
"I was waiting for you," she said, her voice a soft murmur.
She didn't look up from her book.
"I wanted to finish our conversation."
"Oh?"
He walked slowly towards her, his gaze sweeping the room, taking in the open vault door.
She felt his eyes on her like a physical weight.
"And what conversation would that be?"
"About protection," she said, finally raising her eyes to meet his.
Her expression was a carefully constructed mask of vulnerability and curiosity.
"You said you eliminate threats to protect what you love. I was wondering... was my mother a threat you eliminated, Kian?"
The direct question, so bold and yet delivered so softly, hung in the air between them. It was a masterstroke.
*She wasn't an intruder caught in the act; she was a confused, grieving daughter asking a painful question.*
Kian stopped in front of her chair, looking down at her.
A dozen emotions played across his face—shock, anger, and a deep, haunting sadness.
He looked at the open vault, then back at her.
*He didn't know how much she knew.*
"Your mother," he said, his voice thick with an emotion she couldn't decipher, "was the most brilliant, fiery, and reckless woman I have ever known."
He knelt before her, his hands coming to rest on the arms of her chair, caging her in.
"She made powerful enemies. I did everything I could to protect her from them. And I failed."
His eyes were filled with a raw, convincing pain. For a wild moment, Elara almost believed him.
"The greatest threat to your mother," he whispered, his face inches from hers, "was her own desire for a freedom she didn't understand. A freedom that would have gotten her killed."
His gaze hardened.
"I will not make the same mistake with you."
***
He stood up, walked to the vault, and swung the heavy door shut without looking inside.
He then turned the lock on the bookshelf, sealing the secrets away once more.
*He acted as if he hadn't noticed a thing was amiss.*
He turned back to her, his expression now unreadable.
"The gala planning will keep you busy," he said, his tone final.
"It's for the best. Idle hands can lead to dangerous curiosity."
He looked at her one last time before leaving the study.
"And we wouldn't want that, would we?"
Elara was left alone, her heart pounding.
He was lying. But his lie was wrapped in a terrifying truth.
And she was left with a chilling realization: he hadn't discovered her trespass tonight.
*He was giving her enough rope to hang herself.*