by Nicole Fox
I look down and notice there are at least a dozen pairs of shoes staring back at me. I bypass the heels and bend down to pick up the shiny pair of Nikes in the corner.
“He brought all these for me?” I ask, incredulous.
“Master Kian is extremely generous,” Aisling says. But then, she’s biased.
I put away my shocked expression and set the sneakers back down. Then I pick out a pair of soft blue jeans and a fitted black tank top. Everything is exactly my size. I decide not to think about what that might mean.
Once I’m dressed, Aisling and I venture through the house. She explains each room to me as we pass by it. Sometimes, we walk in and take a closer look around, but mostly, we just walk past and gander.
She’s right. The mansion is huge. I can’t help but feel intimidated by the sheer size of it. I’ve never stayed anywhere this big or luxurious before. My whole life has been spent on the run. Never more than a few months at any one place. Not that any of our homes were worth lingering in.
“How many bedrooms does this place have?”
“Fourteen,” Aisling replies. “But that includes the staff quarters.”
I raise my eyebrows, but decide not to comment.
“There’s also a tennis court, a basketball court and a swimming pool,” she adds.
“Is that all?” I say with a laugh. “What a dump.”
“There’s a cinema on the second floor if you ever want to watch a movie.”
“You’re kidding.”
She nods with a bright-eyed smile that makes her youth all the more prominent. “It’s even got a popcorn machine and a vending machine that serves chocolate bars.”
I shake my head. “Somehow, I can’t picture Kian using that room at all.”
She gives me a strange look. “Actually, he spent most of last summer in that room,” she tells me.
“Really?”
Aisling nods. “His niece came from Ireland to visit him. He likes to spend quality time with her.”
The more I learn about Kian, the harder it is for me to hate him. Is this the reason he’s given me freedom of the mansion? To keep peeling back the image of him I have in my head?
“He’s close to her, huh?”
“Very,” Aisling replies.
“How old is she?”
“About twenty now, I’d say.”
I raise my eyebrows, stunned by that piece of information. When Aisling had mentioned a niece, I’d been imagining younger kids. Definitely pre-pubescent. But she’s only five years younger than I am. The age gap between Kian and me does weird things to the butterflies in my stomach.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask, wondering if I should risk it at all.
“Of course, Renata.”
“I can trust you, can’t I?”
“Of course,” she says. Her smile is so genuine that I actually believe her.
“Kian told me that he was involved with a woman a few years ago. Would you happen to know anything about that?”
She frowns a little. “I’m afraid that was before my time here,” she says. For a second, I’m not sure if I should believe her.
“Oh. Right.”
So far, I haven’t been able to sniff out a single lie that Kian told me. Which suggests that maybe actually did tell me the truth.
Another point in his favor. Another hurdle in my quest to continue hating him.
An hour later and Aisling is still showing me around the house. It’s stunningly beautiful and the interior design is pitch-perfect.
“Did he have anything to do with the decorating?”
Aisling chuckles. “I’m not sure,” she admits. “I doubt it, though. His sisters-in-law both love this kind of thing. He probably asked for their help.”
The fact that he seems to have such a good relationship with his family is another thing I feel tentatively jealous about. It’s so foreign to me.
As we’re passing through to the kitchen, I notice a large black door that stands out from the rest of the interior. It’s so obvious that it’s impossible not to notice.
“Where does that lead?” I wonder out loud.
“Oh, that? I’m not sure.”
I turn to her in surprise. “You’re not sure?” I repeat. “But you’ve worked here a while, haven’t you?”
She looks down for a moment. “Well, that wing has always been closed off to everyone but Master Kian,” she tells me. “No one’s allowed there but him.”
I look at the door with renewed interest. “And you don’t have the faintest clue what’s in there?”
“No.”
“Aren’t you curious?”
She gives me a guilty smile. “Maybe a little. But Master Kian is entitled to his privacy. As we all are.”
“That was a wonderfully diplomatic answer,” I say, shooting her an accusing glare. “You should run for office. Any thoughts?”
“Thoughts?”
“On what’s lurking behind this door.” I move closer to the frame and peer around the edges.
Aisling stiffens instantly. “Um, no. Renata, we really should finish the rest of the tour. There are much more interesting things to see.”
She’s clearly trying to pull my attention away from the black door, but I’m transfixed now. I grab the handle and try to pull it open, but it refuses to budge. Not that I expected it to, but still, worth a try.
“Renata!”
I smirk. “What? Turns out I’m nosy.”
“What’s behind that door isn’t any of our business,” she says harshly.
I suppress my smile and sigh dramatically. “Fine, fine. Let’s move on.”
Breathing with relief, Aisling leads me towards the kitchen to finish up our tour. I chance a backward glance at the black door, determined to do some sleuthing of my own once Aisling is otherwise engaged.
There are secrets and lies somewhere in Kian’s world. I just might have to look a little harder than I expected.
It takes me a full two hours after that to get rid of her. Not that I try very hard. Aisling is actually very sweet and easy to talk to. But now that I’ve seen the black door, now that I know it’s off limits, I have to find out what’s behind it.
No man with nothing to hide has a secret wing in his massive mansion that only he can access. A part of me feels almost euphoric. I knew Kian O’Sullivan has skeletons in his closet.
I just hope for my sake that they’re not literal skeletons.
Once we’re finished looking through the massive grounds, Aisling excuses herself to go complete her chores. “You sure you’ll be alright?” she asks.
“Definitely,” I promise, very aware that we haven’t bumped into Kian even once since starting the tour. “I think I’ll just pop on one of my new swimsuits and take a swim.”
She smiles. “Very well. Have fun.”
The moment she disappears into the house, I head in there myself. I pretend to go towards my room, then double back to the black door after making sure that I’m not being followed.
When I get to the black door, I start snooping around, looking for anything that might help me enter.
Half an hour later, I’m tired and defeated.
Apparently, the secrets behind the black door are barred to me.
I follow the wall of the black door into the room right next to it. It’s an unassumingly small space, filled with nothing remarkable, except for a long tapestry that feels like it belongs in a medieval castle rather than a Hamptons mansion.
I move closer and admire the intricate detail that’s gone into creating the massive stone castle at the focal point of the artwork. I reach out tentatively and run my fingers down the thick material.
It’s definitely beautiful. It just strikes me as strange.
This tapestry feels like something that should be given a more prominent space in the house. Instead, it’s been tucked away in this rather boring little room that doesn’t seem to serve a purpose. Apart from a large carpet and a few paintings on the wall, ther
e’s nothing else here.
I look closer at the tapestry, and that’s when I notice that the bottom isn’t fixed to the wall. Instead, it hangs loose, allowing me to pull it away from the wall entirely.
Something pinches at the back of my mind.
I act on instinct and pull up the tapestry.
“Fuck,” I breathe.
There’s a door just underneath. Could it be…?
Holding my breath, I try twisting the small silver knob. Victory. It clicks open without a fuss.
“Yes,” I hiss. “Let’s see what secrets you’re hiding, Kian O’Sullivan.”
26
Renata
Quickly, I slip through the door and shut it behind me before anyone can notice. When I turn, I realize I’m standing in a stairwell. There’s a door adjacent to the one I just walked through and I know for certain it’s the other side of the locked black door.
The staircase in the center is a neat spiral that descends downwards. It’s all very ominous. But I’m more excited than I am scared.
I head down the spiral staircase, taking care to watch my step and tread as lightly as possible. The stairs seem to go on forever and the black walls on either side form a large tube that’s deeply claustrophobic. By the time I start to notice light again, the panic has set in. What have I just walked into?
When I finally get to the bottom, I step onto carpeted floor and look out into the expansive space that’s hidden in the depths of the mansion.
It takes a moment for me to process what I’m seeing.
“Oh my God,” I breathe, my eyes darting from one side of the space to the other.
At first, I think I’ve entered into a weapons vault or something like that.
I notice a collection of handcuffs. A whip in the corner. A metallic collar.
And then it occurs to me.
This is not a weapons vault. It’s a sex dungeon.
Goosepimples erupt on my skin, but I’m not sure I have a handle on my own reaction. Am I scared? Disgusted? Excited? Curious? Intrigued?
I don’t know. All I know is that what I’ve stumbled across—well, no, I haven’t actually stumbled across anything. I’ve actively tried to break into this room.
The room no one is allowed to enter… Except for Kian.
The thought of him finding me has my legs feeling like lead. I’m about to turn and flee when I hear something. What the fuck was that?
It’s probably my imagination, but I swear I heard a sound. The subtle click of a trap slamming shut.
I’ve got to get the fuck out of here. Abandoning my desire to look around, I turn towards the staircase.
And I freeze.
My heart feels like it’s turning to putty. The tall man standing in front of the staircase observes me with malevolent eyes.
“Leaving so soon?” Kian snarls.
27
Kian
She stares at me like a doe caught in the headlights. Her amber eyes are drenched in fear, but I can still see the curiosity there.
I raise my eyebrows and wait for her to say something. She looks around uncomfortably, and even though she shuffles on her feet, she never actually goes anywhere. “I… I…”
“You what?” I ask dangerously.
I take a step forward. She stiffens. “I… don’t know.”
“You found the entrance behind the tapestry.” I press. I already know the answer. But I want to see her squirm.
“Yes.”
“You were searching for it.” It’s not a question.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She glances up at me, surprise wrinkling her brow. “You have a black door that’s barred from everyone in the mansion but you. What did you expect me to do?”
“Respect my privacy, perhaps.”
She snorts “You haven’t respected mine,” she responds, the fight pulsing back into her body. “Why should I do that for you?”
I laugh. “Touché.”
She seems surprised by my response. Her jaw snaps shut as though she’s forgotten what she was about to say.
“Do you know what this place is?” I ask, moving closer to her.
I still leave a wide berth of space between us, but she seems less tense now that it’s clear I’m not going to fly into a rage. Yet.
“I think so,” she says with a tentative nod.
“And you know what happens here?”
She nods and swallows hard. “No wonder you’re so into control,” she rasps. From the expression on her face, I can tell she didn’t intend to say that out loud.
“I do like control,” I admit. “But you haven’t been listening to me. Control isn’t what you think it is. You still think control is what your brother does to you.”
She looks around. “All these… things… say otherwise. This stuff says you like to hurt people who can’t say no.”
“You badly misunderstand what happens here, then.”
“Then explain it to me.” She pales slightly.
And I’ll admit, it’s a bold proposal. Especially given who I am. Who she is. But I’m gratified to see she doesn’t shy away from it. The girl has fire in her. I’ve seen it from the start.
“I don’t know if you’re ready for that.”
She starts to answer, then pauses and reconsiders. “Maybe you’re right. I… I don’t know enough. I’m still not sure if I should hear out your explanation or run screaming for the hills.”
“The choice is yours, Renata.”
She shivers when I say her name. I understand that—I feel something when I say it, too. Something deep and hot and powerful surging through me.
She nods a few times in a row, like she’s amping herself up for whatever happens next. “Okay,” she whispers. “I want to know. Tell me what this is.”
“This is The Room,” I say simply.
“You bring women here?”
“If they’re ready for it, yes.”
“How do you know if they’re ready?”
I pause. It’s a good question. One I should’ve asked myself a long time ago. “For starters, they have to understand how it works here.”
She fidgets in place, gazing around at the things hanging from the walls. Straps, toys, leather harnesses suspended on hooks in the ceiling. “You’re in control, I’m guessing?”
“No.” I step closer to her. She flinches again, but she stays where she is. Once again, I admire her bravery.
“Then who is?”
“They are. You are, if you choose to be.”
She shakes her head. “I’m confused. That’s not how I thought it went.”
“That’s because you still believe that control means you get to tell others what to do.”
“It’s not?”
“It is—on the surface. But it’s far more than that underneath. When your brother hits you, when he brainwashes you, do you think he’s controlling you?”
She starts to nod, but then she hesitates. It’s a trick question and she knows it. “Well…”
“Wrong, Renata. You’re in charge. You always have been. Because you decide whether or not to accept those reins. Those commands.”
She shivers, despite the fact that it’s warm down here. “I’ve said no again and again in my life,” she whispers. “It hasn’t made a damn bit of difference.”
Her tone is soaked with sorrow. There’s a story somewhere that she hasn’t told me—not completely. She hinted at it earlier. But down in this room, reality doesn’t feel quite real. It’s more like a dream. And the truth feels a little less jagged, a little less frightening. In The Room, we can confront our own darkness.
“Tell me,” I whisper. I’m close enough to touch her now and I want to, so fucking badly. But I have to wait. Wait until the moment is right. Wait until she understands.
“I told him no so many times. It didn’t stop him. Not even once.”
“Drago?”
“No,” she says in a voice so low I have to strain to hear it. “Worse.�
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“Tell me,” I urge again. “I’m listening.”
Her eyes find mine in the near-darkness. They’re full of unshed tears and she’s shaking from head to toe. I can’t resist it anymore—I reach out and lay a hand on her neck.
She flinches from the contact at first. But then she sighs and settles against it. It’s like she’s drawing strength from it.
“I was married once, you know,” she says in a tiny whisper.
“Married?”
She nods slowly. “This is the first time I’ve ever let myself say that out loud. I tried to bury all my memories of it a long time ago. But it turns out that what’s buried doesn’t stay that way for long.”
“Who was he?”
“He was a nightmare,” she says simply. “A biker. His name was Logan. He ran with a crew—the Smoking Reapers Motorcycle Club—that ferried drugs and women up and down the coast. They were… They were bad men, Kian.”
I see where she’s going before she even says it. “But Drago thought they would help him.”
She sniffles and nods. “He thought, Fight fire with fire, you know? He thought bad men like them would help kill a bad man like you.”
“And you were his bargaining chip?”
“Worse. I was his sacrificial lamb. He threw me in Logan’s lap and… and…”
I run a thumb across her tear-stained cheek. “You don’t have to say this,” I whisper fiercely. “You don’t have to re-live it.”
Renata shakes her head. “No. I need to. It feels… it feels important, for some reason. I don’t know why, but it does.”
I draw in a slow, shuddering breath. Her face is hot beneath my palm. We’re locked together, so close our breath is mingling between us. The dim lights glint off the metal and leather on all sides. When it catches her eyes, they sparkle like stars.
“I was young. Naïve. I thought Drago had my best interests at heart. But my wedding night was a rude awakening. He was… rough. He wanted to hurt me. And it did, Kian. It hurt me so fucking bad. He…”
She stops short. The words are too painful to speak. “He broke me,” she says at last.