Silent Daughter 3: Owned by Linnea May, Stella Noir Page B
Authors: Linnea May, Stella Noir
Tags: Psychological, Romance, Literature & Fiction, Contemporary, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Contemporary Fiction, Contemporary Women, Women's Fiction, New Adult & College
Ads: Link
determination, as does her upright posture and the way she clenches her little fists.
“If you want to imprison me,” she whispers. “At least do it right.”
Chapter 2
LIZ
Now this, I did not expect.
I look up at my hand, still holding the doorknob that was not supposed to move. And, yet, it has.
I am so struck by surprise that I instinctively jump away from the door. The hairpin falls to the wooden floor and causes a strangely loud noise as it lands on the surface.
This must be a trap. It is impossible that he forgot to lock the damn door, especially when I am not chained to the hook next to the bed. He would never allow this to happen; he is better than this.
I am panting, thoughts running wild while I try to figure out what I should do.
Why am I not running? Any other person would have swung the door open and make a run for it. Even if this were a trap, a normal person would still try.
So should I.
But I need to be smart about it. I cannot even imagine the kind of punishment I would receive if this was a trick and Leonard was standing behind that door, waiting for me to run out like a wild, scared animal. He would grab me in an instant and drag me back to the room, forced into chains that would make the collar and the rope look like child’s play—I am certain.
I swallow hard and tighten the belt around my waist, as if I was putting on my armor, ready for battle. For a few moments, I freeze and listen for any noise coming from behind the door. Nothing but silence responds.
I approach the door with small, careful steps. When I reach for the doorknob with my right hand, I am almost certain that it will not turn, that I imagined it before.
But it does. The doorknob turns, and the door opens easily. I let it stand ajar for a few moments, waiting for any noise or reaction from the other side. When nothing responds to my actions, I dare to fully open the door.
My heart is beating so loud and fast that I am sure it must be audible through the whole corridor that reveals itself in front of me.
Nothing. No one. It is completely deserted, and I realize that this is the first time that I am laying eyes on this part of the house. A weird feeling of uneasiness crawls up my spine as I realize that I was unconscious the only other time I have been in this corridor. Leonard must have carried me through here like a sleeping child, unaware of the prison that awaited.
The corridor is about six feet wide and surprisingly long. The room that is used for my confinement is at the far end, and there are three doors alongside it, two on the left and one on the right. At the opposite end of the hall, a grand staircase arches down into an open area, whose ceiling rises to encompass all three levels of the mansion. Giant windows let in the light from the outside, bathing the area in a cool and gray atmosphere as the sun is not shining today.
I step out into the hallway, and the door closes behind me with an audible click. Still, there is no sound, no reaction coming from elsewhere in the house.
I look up at the ceiling and especially at the corners right and left above me. No cameras. The one in my room seems to be the only one he found necessary.
A part of me wants to call out for him, but I don’t know what I would hope to achieve with that. If he is hiding somewhere, waiting for me to panic and run out, he would most likely not want to reveal himself. If he was around but did not leave the door unlocked intentionally, all I would do is draw his attention to me when I could just as well make a run for it.
Then again, there is also the option of him not being around. I don’t know why this possibility comes to my mind last since he mentioned it earlier. He said he would leave the house and the present silence suggests that is what has happened. But I have a hard time believing whatever he says, and his presence is so ubiquitous that I have trouble imagining I’m alone. I have been here for less than two days
“If you want to imprison me,” she whispers. “At least do it right.”
Chapter 2
LIZ
Now this, I did not expect.
I look up at my hand, still holding the doorknob that was not supposed to move. And, yet, it has.
I am so struck by surprise that I instinctively jump away from the door. The hairpin falls to the wooden floor and causes a strangely loud noise as it lands on the surface.
This must be a trap. It is impossible that he forgot to lock the damn door, especially when I am not chained to the hook next to the bed. He would never allow this to happen; he is better than this.
I am panting, thoughts running wild while I try to figure out what I should do.
Why am I not running? Any other person would have swung the door open and make a run for it. Even if this were a trap, a normal person would still try.
So should I.
But I need to be smart about it. I cannot even imagine the kind of punishment I would receive if this was a trick and Leonard was standing behind that door, waiting for me to run out like a wild, scared animal. He would grab me in an instant and drag me back to the room, forced into chains that would make the collar and the rope look like child’s play—I am certain.
I swallow hard and tighten the belt around my waist, as if I was putting on my armor, ready for battle. For a few moments, I freeze and listen for any noise coming from behind the door. Nothing but silence responds.
I approach the door with small, careful steps. When I reach for the doorknob with my right hand, I am almost certain that it will not turn, that I imagined it before.
But it does. The doorknob turns, and the door opens easily. I let it stand ajar for a few moments, waiting for any noise or reaction from the other side. When nothing responds to my actions, I dare to fully open the door.
My heart is beating so loud and fast that I am sure it must be audible through the whole corridor that reveals itself in front of me.
Nothing. No one. It is completely deserted, and I realize that this is the first time that I am laying eyes on this part of the house. A weird feeling of uneasiness crawls up my spine as I realize that I was unconscious the only other time I have been in this corridor. Leonard must have carried me through here like a sleeping child, unaware of the prison that awaited.
The corridor is about six feet wide and surprisingly long. The room that is used for my confinement is at the far end, and there are three doors alongside it, two on the left and one on the right. At the opposite end of the hall, a grand staircase arches down into an open area, whose ceiling rises to encompass all three levels of the mansion. Giant windows let in the light from the outside, bathing the area in a cool and gray atmosphere as the sun is not shining today.
I step out into the hallway, and the door closes behind me with an audible click. Still, there is no sound, no reaction coming from elsewhere in the house.
I look up at the ceiling and especially at the corners right and left above me. No cameras. The one in my room seems to be the only one he found necessary.
A part of me wants to call out for him, but I don’t know what I would hope to achieve with that. If he is hiding somewhere, waiting for me to panic and run out, he would most likely not want to reveal himself. If he was around but did not leave the door unlocked intentionally, all I would do is draw his attention to me when I could just as well make a run for it.
Then again, there is also the option of him not being around. I don’t know why this possibility comes to my mind last since he mentioned it earlier. He said he would leave the house and the present silence suggests that is what has happened. But I have a hard time believing whatever he says, and his presence is so ubiquitous that I have trouble imagining I’m alone. I have been here for less than two days
Similar Books
