Page 40 of Haunted

So I run past them, my bare feet silent on the marble, leaving Keira to whatever fate she’s chosen for herself.

17

XAVIER

The soft slap of bare feet against marble carries beautifully through the corridors, punctuated by the occasional ragged breath that tells me everything I need to know about Mira’s state of mind. She’s unraveling.

I maintain my leisurely pace, savoring each echo of her panicked movement. There’s no need to rush—the maze has been designed with every dead end to direct prey exactly where I want them. Mira thinks she’s making choices, but she’s simply following a map.

She took the middle path at the fountain junction, just as I expected. When faced with three options, subjects under extreme stress typically avoid the middle path—too exposed—and the right path—too obvious. The left corridor feels like the smart choice, the hidden route.

It’s also the longest path to where I want her to be.

Another grinding sound fills the air as Iactivate the mechanism that shifts the walls behind her, cutting off a possible retreat. The hydraulics are nearly silent, but the stone-on-stone contact produces that distinctive scraping that never fails to send prey into a deeper panic.

Through the hidden microphones, I hear her breathing become more labored.

My boots click against the marble as I follow.

She’s approaching the convergence point now, where all the seemingly random corridors she’s chosen begin to narrow into a single inevitable destination.

The red silk will look stunning against the black leather restraints.

I pause at the next junction, pulling out my phone to check the camera feeds. There she is, pressed against the wall at the entrance to the final corridor, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. The fear and confusion in her hazel eyes are intoxicating. However, there’s still that stubborn spark of defiance that first attracted me to her.

That spark is about to be thoroughly extinguished.

I quicken my pace, letting my boots strike the marble with deliberate force now. The sound reverberates through the corridors, a steady drumbeat announcing my approach. No more games. Time to close the trap.

The cameras show her head whipping toward the sound, those beautiful hazel eyes widening as she realizes I’m much closer than she thought. She presses hard against the wall as if she can somehow meld with the stone and disappear.

But there’s nowhere left to run except forward.

I round the corner behind her, making sure she catches a glimpse of my silhouette in the dim lighting.

“Did you really think you could outrun me in my own maze, Mira?”

My voice carries easily down the corridor. I watch her shoulders tense at the sound of her name on my lips.

“I designed every inch of this place. Every dead end, every false hope, every corridor that seems to promise escape but leads exactly where I want you to go.”

She pushes off from the wall, her bare feet slipping slightly on the polished marble as she stumbles forward.

“You signed that NDA so eagerly, didn’t you? So determined to get your story.” I let my laughter echo. “Well, you’re about to become part of a very different kind of story.”

The fear finally wins out over her stubborn defiance. She breaks into a run, the red silk fluttering behind her as she races down the final corridor. Her breath comes in sharp gasps that bounce off the narrowing walls, growing more frantic with each step.

The corridor ends in only one place—the dungeon.

She has no choice now but to run straight into it.

I maintain my steady pace behind her, savoring the sound of her panicked flight. The heavy wooden door at the end of the corridor stands slightly ajar, spilling warm golden light into the darkness. She’ll see it as a sanctuary, a place to catch her breath and maybe find another way out.

A sharp string of curses echoes from ahead, the words bouncing off the stone walls with beautiful clarity.She’s reached the end. She’s seen the door, realized what waits beyond it, and understands exactly how thoroughly she’s been played.

The sound of her desperation ignites something primitive in my chest.

I break into a run, my boots pounding against the marble as I surge forward.