Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
There was no give.
I reached for the chain around my neck, half-expecting him to materialize out of thin air. To my surprise or lack thereof, the key turned in the lock, allowing me entry into his private sanctuary. I tentatively stepped forward and took everything in.
The office was like a reflection of Alexander himself. Dark, sophisticated, and powerfully commanding.
Rich, deep-colored wood accented the walls, and the large ebony desk was a centerpiece of authority and order. One large, elaborate window framed a serene view of the lake. Bookshelves, filled with an eclectic mix of ancient and modern literature, lined one wall. On the opposite side, a fireplace sat cold and unused, its presence adding a touch of homeliness to the otherwise stern room. A seating area with plush leather chairs and a small couch faced a low coffee table, a space for more informal meetings.
The room was dotted with intriguing artifacts: an antique-looking globe, a locked glass case displaying a collection of ornate knives, and several framed photographs. One captured a more relaxed moment. Alexander, flanked by his brother, cousin, and the two men tied to the other Electi. They were younger, all dressed in what was a balance of formal and casual, with an obvious camaraderie and youthful exuberance about them.
Even back then he held a darkness that was both entrancing and intimidating. Another photograph showed him whom I assumed was his family. I recognized some of the same faces. There was a warmth to this photo too, a familial bond that was unmistakable, yet it also carried an undercurrent of something more austere. This picture couldn’t have been that old. Esther looked to be a year or so younger than she was presently. I lingered on the image of who had to be Alexander’s father, noting the striking similarities between them.
They shared the same chiseled jawline and the same penetrating gaze that seemed to cut right through to your core. Their resemblance was so profound that they could have been mistaken for twins, had it not been for the age difference.
It was more than just physical.
It was in their demeanor.
The way they held themselves with a certain air of authority and assurance as if leadership ran deep in their blood, a trait passed down through generations, shaping them into the men they were destined to become. His father gazed down at a woman whose face was partially obscured, her long dark hair cascading like a curtain of silk, shielding her from full view. Despite the limited glimpse, I could tell she was smiling at him. For all his intensity, Alexander's father was looking back at her with what I could only describe as deep affection, respect, and even love.
I guess pictures really did say a thousand words. This woman had to be his wife. Seeing them together answered a question that had come to me before. Had she grown to love this man? The picture seemed to suggest so, revealing a side of their relationship that was private, intimate, and real. Could I ever come to love Alexander? Or, at the very least, grow fond of him? The idea sent a jolt through me as if I'd touched a live wire.
After what I just read, and what he did, how could I even entertain such a notion? The circumstances of my arrival on this Isle and the reality of my captivity clawed at the back of my mind. Love was not something to be contemplated in a situation like mine. It was a luxury, an indulgence that I couldn't afford, especially not with a man like Alexander, no matter how much a small, absolutely insane side of me wanted to.
With a shake of my head, I tried to dispel these conflicting thoughts. I had to focus on surviving, on understanding the depths of the world I had been thrust into, and finding a way out. Along the way, I’d learn why even then, I was thinking of the twisted nursery rhyme I’d heard somewhere before.
CHAPTER FOUR
As I wandered through the opulent estate, my insatiable curiosity led me to the lower level. Descending another grand staircase for what I initially assumed was a basement, I found myself in a long hall adorned with elegant wall sconces casting a soft, flickering light. The hallway was lined with a few mahogany doors on either side, leading off to various rooms, but my eyes were drawn to the end, where a single step down led to a larger ornate door. Ignoring the overwhelming sense of foreboding that filled me, I strode towards it.
My hand reached for the cold brass knob.
With a twist, the door swung open effortlessly, revealing a dark, alluring room beyond its threshold. It was like stepping into another world – one filled with luxury and indulgence. This room perfectly embodied the Impío faith and Alexander's enigmatic persona.