Kael didn't flinch.
Not at her question.
Not at the anger in her eyes.
Not even when she stepped closer, the space between them thick with disbelief.
"You left the door open," Naya said again, voice quieter now, but sharper. "You let her out."
Kael leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "I needed to see what she would do."
Naya's chest tightened. "She killed one of your men."
"She would've done it eventually."
"You knew she would try to hurt you."
He shrugged. "She tried two years ago. What's changed?"
"You've changed," Naya snapped. "You've gotten colder."
Kael let out a soft breath, something close to a bitter laugh. "I brought you here because I thought you were strong. Not because I wanted another girl who'd break down crying every time the truth got uncomfortable."
She stiffened. "Is that what this is? A test?"
"It's survival," he said. "Mira failed. Celeste ran. You… haven't decided."
"You still think I'll fail," she said bitterly.
He pushed off the wall and stepped closer. "I think you haven't figured out who you are yet."
Her voice broke on the edge. "I'm not one of your broken toys."
"No," he said. "But you're still chained. You just haven't looked down yet."
⸻
Naya didn't follow him when he left.
She didn't scream. She didn't cry.
She listened.
To the silence after he walked out.
To the storm building in her own chest.
To the memory of Mira's voice and the fire in her eyes.
"You're the reason he brought me back."
That sentence had sunk deep into Naya's bones and refused to let go.
Because it wasn't just about Mira.
It was about all the girls before her.
The ones Kael never talked about.
The ones he loved.
Used.
Locked away.
What happened to Celeste?
Why was Mira locked in a cell for two years?
And what would happen to her, once Kael had nothing else to take?
⸻
That night, sleep was impossible.
So she walked.
Silently. Barefoot. Shadow to shadow.
The estate was on lockdown, but the west wing was too large to monitor every corner. She moved quietly through the guest library, through the music room, and finally—
To Kael's study.
Locked, of course.
But she'd watched him type the code three times.
She didn't remember all the digits.
But she remembered the pattern.
It took her four tries.
The fifth worked.
The door clicked open.
⸻
The study smelled like sandalwood and old books. The curtains were drawn. Papers were stacked neatly on the massive oak desk, alongside a fountain pen and an ashtray that still held half a cigarette.
She opened the drawer.
Nothing.
Second drawer. Files.
Third drawer. More files.
And then—beneath the bottom one—
A black leather folder.
Unmarked. Thin.
She opened it.
Inside were photos.
Girls.
Some smiling. Some unconscious. One crying.
Mira.
Celeste.
And finally—herself.
Her hands trembled as she flipped through them. Her intake profile. Her blood type. Psychological notes scribbled in a cold, detached hand.
High reactivity. Strong will. Emotional suppression possible. Similar temperament to Celeste.
The room spun.
He hadn't found her by accident.
He'd chosen her.
Compared her.
Measured her.
⸻
A sound.
Footsteps.
She froze, tucked the folder back, shut the drawer, and backed away from the desk just as the door opened—
Not Kael.
Leo.
His expression changed when he saw her. "What are you doing in here?"
She stared at him. "Did you know?"
He closed the door behind him. "Know what?"
"That I was just another experiment."
Leo sighed, his shoulders sagging. "It's not that simple, Naya."
"No?" She crossed her arms. "Because it looks pretty damn simple to me."
He took a step forward. "Listen, I'm not defending him. But Kael has enemies. Inside and outside this house. He keeps notes on everyone. You think you're the only one being watched?"
She stared. "He watched Mira. He studied Celeste. And he's doing the same thing to me."
Leo didn't deny it.
And that was enough.
⸻
Naya left the study without another word.
She didn't return to her room.
Instead, she went to the east wing balcony and stood there, wind in her face, watching the trees move in the dark.
She felt hollow. Quiet. But not weak.
Something in her had changed.
She wasn't the same girl who'd been dragged through that gate days ago.
She was smarter now.
Colder.
And more dangerous.
⸻
The next morning, Naya refused the dress laid out for her.
She wore pants. A black long-sleeved shirt. Her hair braided tight, not for beauty — for control.
Kael noticed.
But he didn't comment.
Not until after breakfast, when she followed him to the courtyard in silence.
"You're quiet today," he said.
"I'm learning."
"Learning what?"
She met his gaze, unwavering. "The rules of the game."
He tilted his head. "And what game is that?"
"The one you've been playing with every girl you ever locked in this place."
Kael's smile faded.
"You're not like the others," he said.
"No," Naya replied. "I'm worse."
⸻
And then — a guard came sprinting through the courtyard.
"Sir—"
Kael raised a hand. "Speak."
The guard's voice trembled. "Mira… she's gone."
Kael frowned. "Gone where?"
"She made it past the perimeter. We checked the tracker."
"And?"
"She didn't run."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "Then what?"
The guard swallowed hard.
"She's coming back. And she's not alone."