Chapter 7
His smile stayed perfectly in place.
"Actually, I've got nothing going on today, and everything at the office is taken care of.
"How about I take you all out to get some fresh air?"
Emily looked up, a flicker of surprise in her eyes.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
Victor dabbed his mouth with a napkin, every move as graceful as if he were in a movie.
He looked at us and announced slowly.
"We're heading to the country estate for a few days.
"The air's fresh and it's super quiet, just what Charlie needs to recharge.
"Besides, it's been a while since I took the kids back there."
He made it sound so thoughtful and reasonable.
But Emily and I both went pale, our faces draining of color at the exact same moment.
It was the country manor, an even more remote, even more cut-off place, a place where he could do whatever he wanted, and no one would ever find out.
It hit me that he wasn't testing me. He was warning me.
Maybe he'd already noticed someone had been in the study.
Or maybe he just decided I was a liability that couldn't be left here.
He was taking me away, to a place I'd never be able to escape from.
This wasn't a trip.
This was a kidnapping.
My escape plan hadn't even started, and he'd already shut down every possible escape route.
I looked across at Emily, her face just as pale as mine.
She was trembling.
We'd both fallen right into the trap he'd set for us.
And now, that trap was slowly closing in.
Victor's country manor was way more isolated than I ever expected.
The car jolted along winding dirt roads for over an hour before we finally pulled up.
A centuries-old stone manor loomed before us.
Thick ivy crawled up the walls, making it look like something straight out of a ghost story.
Dense forests stretched as far as the eye could see, and massive stone walls rose up all around.
We were completely cut off from the outside world.
The moment Victor stepped out of the car, it was as if he'd returned to his own throne.
He led us into the manor.
The old fireplace was blazing, its flames throwing flickering shadows across the room.
The air was heavy with the stench of mildew and the lingering scent of years gone by.
A butler, just as silent, was already waiting at the door.
He took our luggage without a word, his face completely blank.
The kids were each assigned their own rooms.
They stayed quiet, like marionettes, without a hint of protest.
Emily looked pale and drained, like all the life had been sucked out of her.
She clung to my hand, her fingertips cold as ice.
"Charlie, don't be afraid," Emily whispered in my ear.
She leaned in close, her voice barely audible.
"I'll protect you," she promised.
I stared at her, and for the first time, I saw a fierce determination burning in her eyes.
For a split second, it felt like the Emily from twelve years ago was back, the one who dared to love and hate without holding back.
That gave me a sliver of hope, enough to steady my heart.
Victor led us into a spacious living room.
"This place is safer than the villa," he said.
"Not so many outsiders around. It's perfect for family gatherings."
He smiled, but his eyes swept over me like a snake sizing up its prey.
"Charlie, you should enjoy the peace and quiet here," he said.
"You can rest easy and get your strength back."
He made sure to stress the words "rest" and "get your strength back."
He was basically warning me to behave myself.
I pretended not to catch his hidden meaning.
"Yeah, it's really quiet here," I replied.
I gave him a perfect smile. "Thanks, Victor."
Emily stood off to the side, her face growing even paler.
Lunch was served at a long dining table.
The food was as rich as ever, but the vibe was even heavier than before.
Victor started telling me all about the history of this place.
He said it had been in his family for three hundred years.
Every stone and tree here had its own story.
"My ancestors built everything here," he said.
"They were the kings of this land."
His voice dripped with pride and arrogance.
I looked at him.
There was a wild, almost crazed glint in his eyes.
It was the look of someone who wanted to control everything, no matter what.
After lunch, Victor said he'd take me on a tour of the estate.
"Charlie, it's your first time here. You should really take it all in," he said.
Emily's body tensed up.
"Honey, Charlie just got here. Let her rest for a bit," she said.
"I'm not tired, Emily," I said. I jumped in before she could say anything else.
I knew exactly what she was worried about.
But I couldn't back down.
I had to take every chance I could to gather clues.
Victor shot me a satisfied look.
"Charlie knows how to play along," he said.
He led me down the estate's winding paths, heading deeper into the grounds.
He kept talking nonstop about his family's history, from ancient hunting traditions to the art of winemaking in their vineyards.
Everywhere we went, it was obvious how powerful and closed off this family was.
I pretended to listen intently.
But in reality, I was quietly taking in everything around me.
The walls here were massive.
Electric fences crisscrossed the perimeter.
It was nearly impossible to get in from the outside, and just as hard to get out from the inside.
Deep in the forest, there was a row of low buildings.
I asked Victor what those were.
"That's where the servants live," he answered casually.
"My family has always stuck to tradition, hiring only the most loyal servants.
"They've served my family for generations."
But when he said "loyalty," all I heard was "imprisonment."
These servants were probably just like Emily, completely under his control.
The tour went on for ages.
It wasn't until the sky started to darken that Victor finally brought me back to the main house.
The last place he took me was the estate's basement.
"This is the family wine cellar," he said.
He pushed open a heavy iron door.
A cold, damp gust hit me in the face.
The basement stretched deep underground.
Stone steps spiraled down, with tall wine barrels lining both sides.
Victor switched on a dim, yellow light.
Deep in the cellar, there were some bizarre instruments of torture.
There were chains, whips, and some tools I couldn't even name.
They were polished until they gleamed.
They gleamed with a cold, metallic luster.
My breath caught in my throat.
"What are these for?" I asked, my voice trembling.
Victor's lips curled into a twisted smile, almost sinister.
He said, "This is our family tradition.
"For punishing disloyal servants."
His eyes locked onto mine, unblinking.
"Do you know, Charlie?" he said.
"Sometimes, physical pain can wake up the soul.
"It can also make people realize what loyalty really means."