Chapter 1 - The Chains Beneath the House
The silence inside the foyer was louder than the thunder outside.
Nathaniel stepped past the spilled bucket, ignoring the dirty water soaking into his Italian leather shoes.
He reached down and gently cupped Claireâs trembling face in his hands.
"Claire..." he whispered, his voice cracking with three years of unshed tears.
"Is it really you?"
Claire didn't look into his eyes. She looked frantically toward the staircase, trembling like a leaf.
"Please, sir... I'm just the housemaid," Claire whimpered, her voice hollow and devoid of light.
"Iâll clean the floor... please don't let her lock me in the cellar again."
Nathaniel felt an icy blade turn inside his chest.
He slowly looked up at the grand staircase where Vanessa Sinclair stood in her midnight-blue satin gown.
"Cellar?" Nathaniel spoke, his tone dropping into an octave of pure, apocalyptic rage.
Vanessaâs hands began to shake, but she forced a cold, elegant laugh.
"Nathaniel, darling, don't be dramatic," Vanessa said, taking a slow step down the stairs.
"The girl is mentally unstable."
"I found her wandering near the estate two years ago with total amnesia."
"I took her in, fed her, and gave her a roof over her head out of charity!"
"Charity?" Nathaniel roared, his voice shaking the crystal chandelier above.
He grabbed Claire's wrist, pulling back her faded uniform sleeve.
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Dark purple burn marks and thick rope scars encircled both of her wrists.
"Did your 'charity' do this to my wife, Vanessa?" Nathaniel spat out, his eyes turning to black glass.
