Chapter 2: Shadows in the Room
She hovered over the envelopes, her fingers trembling slightly—not from fear, but from anticipation. Every shadow in the room seemed alive, waiting to strike at the slightest mistake. Dexton's presence in the darkness beside her, silent and watchful, was oddly comforting.
A faint creak echoed from the far corner, and she tensed, ready to react. Slowly, she slid the first envelope closer, eyes scanning the edges of the room for hidden dangers.
Dexton's voice, barely above a whisper, brushed against her ear: "Move slowly. Don't trigger anything."
Her eyes flicked to the shadow where he stood. For a brief moment, their gazes met—silent understanding passing between them. Then, almost imperceptibly, a flicker of something unspoken, almost warmth, passed between them.
With a steadying breath, she finally grasped the smaller envelope. As her hand lifted it, the floor beneath her shifted slightly, releasing a soft click. A hidden panel near the desk slid open, revealing a second envelope, sealed with dark wax.
Her pulse quickened. Two envelopes. One could be a trap; the other, the secret she had come for.
Dexton stepped silently beside her, brushing a lock of silver hair from her face as he whispered, "Whatever happens next, I've got your back."
Her heart stuttered, but she pushed the feeling aside. Revenge came first. Love… if it had a place here, would have to wait.
Then a faint metallic glint caught her eye near the ceiling. A thin, razor-sharp wire stretched across the room, almost invisible in the dim light. She froze. One wrong step could be deadly.
Dexton's voice came again, calm and steady: "To the left. Follow my movements."
She mirrored him, stepping carefully, barely making a sound on the polished floor. Her fingers clenched the envelopes, but her eyes never left the shadows that seemed to move with malicious intent.
As she reached a safe spot, Dexton murmured, "You're better at this than I imagined."
Her heart skipped—not from fear, but from the weight of his words. Their eyes met again, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them. There was no time to dwell on it.
Suddenly, a floor panel shifted beneath them. Dust rose, and the faint hum of hidden mechanisms filled the air. She instinctively stepped back, pulling Dexton with her. A section of the ceiling dropped slightly, revealing several small darts, their tips glinting silver.
Dexton moved faster than she could track, intercepting the darts with a small shield he drew from the shadows. "Careful," he murmured, handing it to her. Their fingers brushed, and a faint warmth spread through her chest—but there was no time for distraction.
She took the shield and blocked the next volley, her movements fluid and precise. When the room finally fell silent again, she exhaled, tense but alive with adrenaline.
Dexton stepped closer, low enough that she could feel his presence. "We're not out yet," he whispered, "but together… we can handle whatever's next."
Her eyes met his. For a brief moment, the revenge and danger faded, replaced by a flicker of trust—maybe even something more. Then she forced herself to look away. The envelopes were still in her hands, and the shadows still waited. The game was far from over..