Chapter 2. The Shadow By The East Wing
I walked into the main entrance of the building. A maid in a tailored uniform came through, greeting me, “Welcome, Miss Elena.” Her smile looked too practiced, and her light brown eyes were empty. Inside, the house gleamed with white marble floors, reflecting my image like broken mirrors. The air was sterile, sharp and colder than a morgue.
A woman in grey intercepted me while I was busy, lost in the expensive luxury around the mansion. She stood in front of me with her stride echoing authority.
“You’re the new maid?”
“Yes, ma'am,” I responded. My voice was barely audible.
“Report to Mr. Nathan Bishop now, she commanded, and her heels clicked away, leaving no room for protest in my mind or questions in return.
Now I know I'm here for a long ride with the Bishops.
The name jolted through me. Nathan Bishop, the reclusive empire-builder. A man who had built his fortune crushing rivals beneath his heel. The ruthless, brilliant and untouchable business mogul. The one everyone rumoured to be a ‘Devil’.
And now, he is going to be my employer?
My pulse thundered as I followed her from behind as she led me down a silent corridor.
At the end of the corridor, a door stood heavier than the rest before us, as though carved to hold back secrets. Heat slicked my palms as I smoothed my shirt. Who knows what awaits me from inside?
She knocked on the door and, without waiting for an answer, we entered the room.
The moment I stepped inside, I felt something different. His presence.
Who is he?
He stood tall, his shadow wrapped in a tailored black suit. His jaw is sharp with stubble. Then his eyes. He has golden eyes, smitten and dangerous, like fire trapped from a volcano. His gaze stripped me bare, as it locked on me for the first time, unraveling me with surgical precision.
Is he really the Devil of the Bishops’?
“You’re late,” he said. His words were cool, yet carried the weight of judgment.
My throat closed as I forced out an answer.
“So sorry, sir… I…I…didn't,” My words tangled and died on my tongue as I tried to respond but he didn't blink. His striking eyes still pierced me, promising nothing but ruin.
Then, for the very first time, I realized the real danger wasn’t the forged identity in my pocket. It was the man standing right in front of me.
Nathan’s lips curved slowly as he finally spoke. “Welcome to my house, Elena. Let’s see how long you will survive here.”
I have never seen a handsome and smitten man like this. His gaze lingered on me, molten and merciless. For a breath, I wished the marble floor under me would split open and swallow me whole.
His mouth curved into a devilish smile when he noticed my fright, the kind that belonged to a predator who had just cornered his prey. There was this aura about Nathan Bishop that felt almost infernal. It was an authority carved from shadows. An energy that demands submission without a word.
“Listen,” he said, his voice laced with steel as he spoke unapologetically. “Don’t ever make a habit of this. I despise sluggishness among my staff, and to me, it is the first sign of incompetence.”
“Y..yes, sir”. I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat nearly choking me. “Sir, please I don’t usually do this,” I stammered, every syllable in my words trembling.
My mind spun, already bracing for the punishment hidden behind his eyes. His smile vanished, leaving behind a sharp edge of darkness as he kept staring at me.
“We shall see,” he said bluntly.
The words sank into my chest, confirming every rumor I’d ever heard about him.
Nathan Bishop wasn’t just powerful. He is dangerous. The most feared billionaire in his family’s history. The kind of man whose empire was built not only on numbers, but on the ruins of those who had dared to oppose him.
Suddenly, the air between us thickened, strung with tension and curiosity, but despite that, I loved the burning fire in his eyes. One that can make any woman melt. At this moment, I realized that this wasn’t simply a job. It was an invitation into a labyrinth where each corridor might end in ruin.
Wait! Or is there something else other than that?
Later that night, I climbed the sweeping staircase toward the sacred library. The silence of the mansion still pressed against my ears, louder than any city street I had ever known.
That was when I saw it, at the far end of the East Wing. What? A shadow.
It clung to the door, portraying the figure of a helpless woman, faceless, motionless and yet radiating presence. My breath faltered, and my knees shivered against the marble steps as my thoughts raced.
Were the Bishops not just billionaires? Are they also collectors of stolen lives? If they discovered me, an impostor sneaking into their empire. I wouldn’t just lose my mother’s hospital bed. I’d join whatever shadow that is behind that locked door. My blood ran cold.
Who is there?
Who is that?
I thought.
There were no footfalls nor sounds. Just the unknown figure, half-submerged in darkness, standing and watching from a distance.
A chill threaded down my spine like icy fingers. My lips parted in a whisper that barely escaped me.
“W…what are you?” I murmured, as if expecting a response from the unknown figure, but the shadow didn’t move. It lingered behind the bars. I was so amused. My heart thundered violently in my chest to a point I felt like it might crack my ribs. Suddenly, a scream split through the silence. High, raw, and shattering from the east wing. I froze mid-step, the tray I was holding, trembling in my hands vigorously. Sharply, I heard a woman's voice from the East wing. “Please—no! I’ll never do it again!” her voice wailed and broken by sobs.
Then came another reply. A man’s voice, cold and brutal. “In this house, mistakes are paid by blood. This is the debt you must pay.”
I heard a sharp crack, more like a whip and another hoarse scream from the tortured voice, this time clawing through the air before finally cutting off. The silence afterward was worse than the sound.
My knees weakened as my secret burned inside me like fire. If they discovered who I really was, I wouldn’t just lose this job. I’d vanish into this same silence, swallowed whole, forgotten and erased.
Elena!”
A sharp voice came through the hall behind me as it called my name, or rather, my fake name. The call almost ripped my heart out of my chest. I jerked and spinning around to see who called my name.
