The sky above Knight Mansion had grown strangely black, as if a shadow had passed across the sun. Rhea stood near the big windows, her hands trembling. She could feel it—something was wrong. Something big was coming.
Adrian hadn't returned since the morning.
And he has never stayed silent this long.
She paced through the hallway, the soft click of her heels echoing like a countdown. Every servant avoided eye contact, their faces tense. Even the mansion's air felt heavier, thicker, as if holding its breath.
"Where is Adrian?" Rhea demanded again.
But no one answered.
It was almost as if they were afraid.
She wasn't sure whether she should call him or let him handle whatever storm he had stepped into—but the growing dread in her chest told her one thing: tonight wouldn't end peacefully.
She stepped into the study, planning to wait there, but something stopped her.
A sound.
A faint metallic clink.
Rhea froze, eyes darting around the dim room. The study was supposed to be empty. Adrian always kept it locked. Slowly, she moved toward the sound.
The desk drawer.
It was slightly open.
Rhea swallowed hard and tugged it open fully.
Inside lay a silver USB drive—unmarked, cold as ice.
It didn't belong there.
Hands shaking, she plugged it into Adrian's laptop.
A folder popped up instantly:
"PROJECT NIGHTFALL—CONFIDENTIAL."
Rhea's breath hitched.
She clicked.
The screen flooded with documents—files filled with dates, financial transfers, security reports…and photographs.
Her heart stopped.
They were surveillance images.
Of her.
Everywhere.
Outside her college.
Her home.
Her office.
Even that night she cried outside the banquet hall… Someone had taken that picture too.
Rhea staggered back.
This wasn't normal protection.
This was obsession.
And Adrian had never told her.
Tears blurred her vision, but before she could click on the last folder—labeled simply with her name—her phone buzzed violently.
Unknown number.
She hesitated.
Then answered.
A distorted voice spoke, cold and amused.
"Mrs. Knight… Don't wait for your husband tonight."
Her blood ran cold.
"What do you mean…?" she whispered.
A chuckle came through the speaker—low and threatening.
"Adrian walked straight into a trap. And you, darling, are next."
The call ended.
Rhea froze.
The room suddenly felt like a cage.
Her ears rang. Her pulse hammered. The USB, the photos, the call—everything crashed into her at once.
Someone was watching her.
Someone was hunting Adrian.
And now… her.
Before she could gather herself, the mansion lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then blacked out completely.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Rhea gasped, backing into the desk.
A soft creak echoed from the hallway.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Coming closer.
"Adrian…?" she whispered, even though she knew it wasn't him.
Another step.
Closer.
The door handle began to turn.
Rhea's breath caught.
This was it.
The storm had finally arrived.