Lilia tossed her phone onto the bed without a second thought as she turned her attention to the wardrobe. She couldn't afford any distractions right now—not even the lingering thought of leaving her phone behind.
She opened the wardrobe doors, her hands trembling slightly as she rummaged through the rows of neatly hung clothes.
Each item seed more formal than the last: silken nightgowns, dresses adorned with lace, and embroidered robes that scread wealth but offered no practicality for what she was about to do. Frustration bubbled inside her. She needed sothing simple—sothing that wouldn't draw attention.
Her fingers brushed the back panel of the wardrobe, and she paused. The polished wood felt different there, almost hollow. She pushed against it, and to her surprise, the panel gave way, revealing a smaller compartnt.
Hidden within was a collection of folded gym outfits, their sleek material starkly contrasting the elaborate clothing she had sifted through earlier.
A black top and leggings lay at the top of the pile, as though waiting for her. Perfect. She slipped into them quickly, their snug fit making her feel lighter and more agile. Her ink-dark hair was another problem; it tumbled down her back in loose waves, too unruly to manage without effort. Grabbing a claw clip from the dresser, she swept her hair up, securing it as best as she could. A tight bun wouldn't hold—it never did.
She glanced at the clock on her phone. It was already 10 p.m. Her chest tightened as reality sank in. Two hours. That's all the ti she had to get out of the mansion before midnight.
Slipping out of her room, she was imdiately struck by how eerily quiet the hallway was.
The silence amplified every creak of the marble beneath her feet, each sound echoing like a warning. She tiptoed, her steps deliberately light, as if that might sohow keep her hidden. It was a foolish thought—if soone appeared, they'd see her regardless. Still, the muted sound of her footsteps offered an illusion of stealth, and for now, that was enough.
As she moved through the corridor, the flickering shadows cast by the dim wall sconces danced like specters around her. She reached the grand staircase and descended slowly, her heart pounding harder with each step.
The mansion's back entrance ca into view—a massive double door that lood ahead like the gates to freedom. Her hand reached out instinctively, but before she could take another step, a voice shattered the silence.
"Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be at work?"
Her breath caught. Panic surged through her veins, her body freezing in place. Were they..were they talking to her?
Another voice responded, and this ti it was clearer, closer.
"I'm thirsty," it said, deep and distinctly male.
Lilia's chest heaved as she pressed herself into a corner of the mansion's garden. The foliage surrounded her, thick and wild, offering just enough cover to hide. The tight space made it hard to breathe, but she forced herself to stay still, her body rigid against the cool stone wall.
Through the leaves, she spotted a figure walking past. The man's broad shoulders cast a shadow that seed to stretch endlessly under the dim garden lights. His voice carried over again, but this ti it was softer, almost a murmur, as if he was speaking to himself.
Lilia's heart thudded painfully in her chest. She cursed herself silently for being reckless. What had she been thinking? She wasn't so expert in sneaking around. The plan had seed straightforward in her head, but now, with the weight of real danger pressing down on her, it felt hopelessly naïve.
When the man finally disappeared from sight, she dared to exhale. Her breaths ca shallow and quick, each one a desperate attempt to steady her nerves. She peeked out cautiously, her gaze sweeping over the garden. The coast seed clear.
The gate.
Her eyes locked onto it, half-open as if inviting her to slip through unnoticed. A maid had just walked out, carrying what looked like a bundle of laundry. Lilia pressed herself further into the wall, watching as the maid disappeared into the night.
Evie had ntioned sothing about the maids switching shifts late at night. Could this be her chance? They didn't know her; she could pass for one of them, couldn't she?
But just as she stepped forward, her foot landed on sothing soft and unfamiliar.
A sharp gasp escaped her lips as she glanced down. One of the black flowers.
"Oh no. Oh no. Why?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Evie had told her about these flowers—how special they were, how Zethan had insisted on planting them himself. Their presence was as much a part of the mansion as its towering walls. Damaging them, even by accident, felt like a direct challenge to his authority.
Her mind raced. Even if soone noticed, she'd be long gone by then, right?
'Focus, Lilia. This isn't what you should be thinking about right now.'
She shook off the rising panic, pulling herself out of the corner. Her foot brushed against the gravel path, and the faint sound of a crack echoed in the stillness. She winced but pressed on, moving toward the gate.
Imdiately she stepped out the air outside felt different. It was the sa cool night breeze, but sothing about it felt freer, unrestrained. She glanced back at the mansion, its imposing walls towering behind her like silent sentinels.
"Wow," she thought, her lips curving into a small smile. "Who knew escape could be this easy?"
But even as the words crossed her mind, doubt crept in. Her heart raced, her senses on high alert. Every rustling bush, every faint whisper of the wind felt amplified, as if the night itself was conspiring against her.
She pushed forward, adrenaline urging her steps. The gate was just ahead. Freedom was within reach.
Then she stopped short.
Her eyes widened in disbelief as another fence ca into view.
A second gate.
"This isn't happening," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
She had convinced herself the escape was going smoothly, but now the reality of the mansion's defenses hit her like a blow to the chest. Why was there another fence? Was Zethan so paranoid, or was the architect just cruel?
Approaching the gate, she spotted a set of keys dangling on a hook. Relief flooded her.
Until she saw how many keys there were.
Her fingers fumbled through the bunch, the tal clinking softly as she tried one after another. None of them fit. Frustration bubbled up, threatening to spill over into panic.
And then she heard it.
A voice, deep and unmistakable, cutting through the silence like a blade.
"The keys are on the other side."
She froze.
Slowly, she turned in the direction of the voice, her eyes following where it had pointed. And sure enough, there they were—a second set of keys, hanging on the opposite side of the gate.
Her breath ca in short, sharp gasps as she reached for them. With shaking hands, she inserted the key into the lock. The click of the chanism echoed loudly in the quiet night.
But just as she began to push the gate open, a chill ran down her spine.
Sothing wasn't right.
The voice she had heard—it wasn't her imagination. It had been real.
Her body stiffened as the realization hit her. She slowly turned, her breath hitching as her eyes landed on a figure standing tall and still behind her.
Zethan.
Her blood ran cold, her body turning rigid in place.
Her breath hitched. "How? How is...is this possible?" she stamred, her thoughts spiraling. He had shown her the key, yet now he stood blocking her way. He laughed—a slow, mocking sound that sent shivers down her spine.
"Nice try, Loris," he said, clapping slowly, almost as if applauding a performance. "I must say, I'm impressed." His voice dripped with sarcasm.
Lilia's hands trembled as she clutched the keys she had used to unlock the gate just monts ago, too stunned to speak. Her mouth opened and closed as if searching for words. Had he been following her the whole ti? No wonder everything had seed so easy. She should have known better.
"Co on, Loris," he teased, his voice laced with mockery. "You're wasting ti. It's almost midnight. What happened to your grand escape plan?"
Still in shock, Lilia finally found her voice. "What...what are you up to?" she demanded, though she already knew the answer. He had known about her plan all along, yet he'd played along, feigning cluelessness. He had made a fool of her—again.
He smirked, his expression darkening as he stepped closer. "Fine. Since you're so hell-bent on this silly escape," he paused, "let make it easier for you." His tone dropped, the playful edge vanishing.
His gaze locked onto hers, sharp and unyielding, like a predator savoring the final monts before a chase. "Let's make a deal," he said, his voice low and dangerously calm, each word laced with an ominous edge. "You run. I'll stay here."
He leaned in slightly, his presence suffocating, his lips curving into a smile that didn't reach his cold, piercing eyes. "But if I catch you..." he paused, the silence pressing against her chest like a vice, "you're mine."
The air between them felt heavy, electric with unspoken tension. He tilted his head, his smirk deepening. "Go on. Run. I'll even stay here for a while," he said, his tone almost playful, yet dripping with dark intent. "And then, Loris..." His voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "I'll co after you."
Lilia's eyes widened in disbelief.
He smiled, but it was a cold, humorless smile. "Is that a deal, Lilia?" he asked, his voice smooth and unnervingly calm as he spoke her na for the first ti.
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