The Room He Keeps Locked

Althea’s POV

The morning came too late.

I hadn’t slept. Not after the message. Not after the voice that haunted the monitor. And definitely not after Damian vanished right after it played—without a word.

Now I stood in the hallway, staring at the one door he never allowed me to open.

The west wing.

Always locked. Always off-limits.

Until now.

The lock was broken. Hanging. Like someone had pried it open.

I pushed the door gently.

Creak.

It opened into darkness.

My body tensed as I stepped inside, the scent of old wood and something metallic hanging in the air.

The room was cold. Too cold.

I found a light switch. Flicked it.

The single bulb flickered to life, casting an eerie yellow glow on what looked like… a shrine.

There were photos—taped to the walls, pinned to the boards. The same woman… over and over. Long hair, soft smile. Eyes too familiar.

Then I saw it.

A picture of me.

Right next to her.

Same face. Same eyes.

But she looked… older. Wiser. Sadder.

Who was she?

My hands shook as I picked up an envelope with my name on it, sealed with black wax. I hesitated—then opened it.

Inside was a photo.

The woman again. Standing beside Damian.

And behind them, in faded handwriting: "She didn’t survive. Will this one?"

I dropped it, heart pounding so hard I thought I’d pass out.

That’s when I heard his voice behind me.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

I turned slowly.

Damian stood at the doorway. Expression unreadable. Eyes colder than the room.

I whispered, “Who is she?”

He stepped inside. “My wife.”

My blood ran cold.

“But I’m your—”

“She was the one before you.”

---

Damian’s POV

I didn’t want her to find it this way.

The room was supposed to stay locked. That part of me buried.

But it never works like that, does it?

She found Elizabeth. The first bride. The mistake I was supposed to forget.

“She looks like me,” Althea said, her voice barely a whisper.

“That’s why I chose you,” I replied.

The words tasted bitter.

Her face crumbled. “What happened to her?”

I stepped closer.

“She loved me. And that was her first mistake.”

Her second mistake was trusting me.

She backed away, shaking her head. “Did you hurt her?”

“No.”

That was a lie.

Not with my hands. But with silence. With secrets. With the same poison I was feeding Althea now.

“She died?” Her voice broke.

“Yes.”

And no.

Because Elizabeth was still here, in this house. In every wall. Every locked room. Every lie I told.

“She died because of me,” I finally said.

The truth burned.

Althea turned to leave.

“You don’t have to become her,” I said. “But you will… if you don’t listen to me.”

She stopped.

I added softly, “They’re coming for you, Althea. Like they came for her.”

---

Althea’s POV

I didn’t know what to believe.

Damian’s words echoed in my skull like a curse.

Who were “they”? Why was I really chosen?

This wasn’t just a marriage.

It was a sentence.

And I had no idea how to survive it.

But one thing was clear:

Whatever happened to his first wife…

It had already begun happening to me.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***