The door clicked open with a hiss of released pressure.
Cold air spilled out sterile, metallic, and sharp with the faint scent of burnt wires and old smoke. Isabelle's skin prickled as she followed Sebastian inside, her pulse echoing in her ears.
The room wasn't what she expected.
No corpses.
No hidden weapons.
No gruesome secrets splattered across the walls.
Just memories.
And ghosts.
Rows of shelves lined with files, old photos, and surveillance screens blinking faintly. A piano sat in the corner, its surface covered in dust except for one spot where a single framed photo had been placed with care.
Evelyn.
Smiling. Alive. Her arm around Sebastian's neck, the light in her eyes dazzling with affection.
Sebastian's entire body stiffened. He stood at the doorway, unwilling to step further, as if the room itself had claws that could drag him back into hell.
"Sebastian," Isabelle whispered. "What is this place?"
His voice was low. "The last place she was alive."
She froze. "You mean"
He turned his gaze toward her, the darkness in his eyes heavier than she'd ever seen it. "Evelyn died here."
She took a slow step closer to the piano, tracing the keys with trembling fingers.
"You told everyone it was an accident."
"It was," he said. Then, after a pause: "And it wasn't."
Her breath hitched. "You're not making sense."
"I was the reason she died."
The words shattered between them sharp and final.
He walked toward the shelves, his hand brushing a dusty folder marked E.K. before pulling it out. Inside were photos accident reports, witness statements, security stills all from the night Evelyn Kane's car exploded outside the mansion gates.
"I found out she'd been leaking information about one of my companies," he said quietly. "To a rival. I confronted her here, in this room. She swore she didn't mean to. Said she was forced. I didn't believe her."
He swallowed hard, the memory clearly tearing through him.
"I told her to leave. That if she ever came back, I'd have her arrested."
Isabelle felt her chest tighten. "Sebastian"
"She left crying," he said, voice breaking. "And an hour later, her car went up in flames."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Only the soft hum of the old monitors filled the air.
Isabelle's throat burned. "So you blamed yourself."
He laughed bitterly. "Wouldn't you? I pushed her out there. I drove her to it. And I've been trying to bury it ever since in work, in control, in every lie I told myself about being untouchable."
He looked up at her then, his voice raw and shaking.
"You were never supposed to see this part of me."
Her eyes glistened. "You mean the part that's human?"
He blinked, startled then exhaled slowly, as though her words had cut through years of armor.
She stepped closer until she was right in front of him, her hand hovering just over his chest.
"You think locking this away will make it disappear. But it's not the ghosts that destroy you, Sebastian. It's pretending they're not there."
He searched her face, as if trying to decide whether to let her touch him, or send her away before she saw more.
"I'm not Evelyn," she whispered. "And you don't have to keep punishing yourself for her death by shutting everyone out."
His jaw tightened. "You don't understand what I've done."
"Then help me understand."
For a moment, it looked like he might finally let go. His hand brushed her cheek hesitant, trembling. But before he could speak, one of the monitors flickered.
Isabelle turned toward it.
The camera feed showed the east garden and a figure moving through the shadows.
Tall. Hooded. Carrying something metallic.
"Sebastian" she breathed. "Someone's inside the perimeter again."
He went still. Then his entire demeanor changed grief replaced by razor-sharp control.
"Stay here," he ordered.
"Sebastian, no"
But he was already moving, retrieving a gun from the drawer beneath the piano and heading for the door. His voice was low but urgent.
"Lock this behind me. Don't open it for anyone."
"Sebastian"
He looked back at her one last time.
"If I don't come back in ten minutes, call Liam and get out."
Then he was gone.
And Isabelle was left standing in the room of ghosts surrounded by Evelyn's memory, the hum of the cameras, and a terrible, creeping fear that the past wasn't finished with them yet.