Chapter 3
"Please show Ms. Harris to the guest room."
With that, Alexander Rhea ascended the staircase to the upper floor, his footsteps echoing softly until he disappeared into the shadows.
The moment his footsteps faded, Ava's phone buzzed.
How was the interview? What's Alexander Rhea like in real life?
The message came from Jane, excitement practically radiating through the screen.
Ava sighed before replying.
"Just like his novels... dark enough."
Jane laughed.
"Well, that's the aura of a great writer—to become whatever he writes. Wait... why does your voice keep cutting out? Are you still at the mansion?"
"Yeah."
"Let's meet tomorrow, then. One o'clock. Carlin Street?"
Ava let out a quiet breath.
"I'm nearly twenty kilometers away, and the interview isn't over yet. He's incredibly calculated and speaks very little. This is going to take time."
A brief silence followed.
"Alright. I'll start editing the interview clips. Take care, Ava."
She smiled faintly.
"I will."
The call ended.
Walking toward the window in search of a stronger signal, Ava's gaze drifted across the sprawling backyard.
One tree stood apart from the others.
A massive banyan tree.
Its leaves swayed gently despite the stillness around it, almost as though they were whispering secrets only the wind could understand.
"Miss."
A soft knock at the door startled her.
She turned to find a maid standing respectfully at the entrance.
"I've been assigned to assist you during your stay."
The maid stepped inside and placed several items neatly on the table.
"Since the mansion is far from the city, mobile reception can be unreliable. Mr. Rhea provides this phone for guests. It has a stronger signal."
She gestured toward the device.
"I've also brought you a change of clothes and nightwear."
After a brief pause, she continued in the same calm tone.
"Brunch is served at ten in the morning, and dinner is served promptly at eight in the evening. An alarm will ring before each meal."
"The compound gate remains locked whenever Mr. Rhea is away. He values his privacy above all else."
"If you need anything, simply ring the bell beside your bed."
She bowed politely.
"Thank you."
Without another word, she left the room.
Ava stared after her.
"She sounded more like someone reciting rules than a maid," she murmured. "Maybe I'm just overthinking."
With another weary sigh, she sat on the edge of the bed and unzipped her leather bag.
Taking out her MacBook, she prepared to edit the interview footage recorded through her concealed audiovisual microphone.
Then she froze.
"The microphone..."
Her eyes widened.
"It isn't here."
A wave of panic rushed through her.
The recorder contained the entire interview—her only proof of everything that had happened since arriving at the mansion.
Leaving the laptop on the bed, Ava hurried out of the room and made her way toward the study, hoping she had dropped it there.
The study door was slightly ajar.
She pushed it open.
The room was silent.
Then—
Creak...
A faint scraping sound echoed from one corner of the room, as though a heavy piece of furniture had shifted.
Curiosity overcame caution.
She followed the sound until she reached a section lined with towering bookshelves filled with old leather-bound books.
One particular book caught her eye.
Unlike the others, it was wrapped in worn leather with deep crimson straps crossing its cover.
It seemed oddly... out of place.
Unable to reach it, Ava carefully climbed onto the lower shelf, stretching her fingers toward the mysterious volume.
Just a little higher...
Footsteps echoed behind her.
She lost her balance.
"Hel—"
Before she could fall, a pair of strong arms caught her.
She looked up.
Alexander Rhea.
His expression remained unreadable as his piercing gray eyes met hers.
"What were you doing here, Ms. Harris?"
"I..."
She struggled for an answer.
Alexander slowly raised his hand.
Between his fingers rested her missing microphone.
"Looking for this?"
Relief washed over her.
"Yes... Thank you."
She carefully stepped away from him, trying to steady both her footing and her racing heartbeat.
Alexander's gaze shifted upward toward the shelf she had been climbing.
His eyes lingered on the crimson-bound book.
Then he looked back at Ava.
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
"Some stories..."
He paused.
"...are best left unread."