The Other Woman→𝙆𝙏𝙃

[Eleven; Her Friends]

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[Y/N]
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''Can you come out already?" I irritatingly bang onto the en-suite shower room.

I have things to do, starting with washing off this entire day and getting some sleep. I want to wake up early tomorrow and make Ila a nice breakfast; something to show her I'm trying to fix whatever is left between us. But of course, my husband, being the infuriating man he is, has decided to test me once again by taking his sweet time in the shower.

Sure, I could use one of the other seven bathrooms in this mansion, but I don't want to risk bumping into Ila and raising even more suspicions. It's bad enough she caught that room earlier, I don't want to push my luck by explaining why we aren't sharing a room, especially with the contract still looming over my head like a guillotine. The last thing I need is Jungkook calling me about the consequences of breaking our terms.

I sigh heavily. My eyes land on the luggage Taehyung brought in earlier, and I can't help but frown in confusion. I never expected him to go out of his way to get my clothes, especially considering the cold war between us.

To be honest, I don't quite remember what I blabbered to him. I just have... no recollection of it. Now that he's saying I did ask for my old clothes, I'm starting to have some fuzzy memory of it. Not all, just little snippets.

I don't dissociate often, but when I do, it's after a hard-earned shock. Frankly, I myself didn't even know I had this issue until my 21st birthday when Ila found me completely zoned out. The look on her face when I snapped back to reality...

My twin freaked out, frantically sobbing. Ever since that day, I made sure to not dissociate as much as I could in front of anybody, especially my sister.

But now, it's... surprising. I'm not used to people listening to me, much less acting on what I say, especially in moments like that. And yet, Taehyung actually listened. For a brief second, I feel something warm flicker in my chest. Maybe I should thank him?

Pfft, who am I kidding? He always ruins everything with that delightful personality of his.

I let out another long sigh, leaning back against the cupboard. God, is he taking this long on purpose, just to drive me crazy?

As I shift my weight, my shoulder bumps into the hard surface and I hear a soft click. Suddenly, a hidden door swings open, revealing a dark passageway behind it.

My heart skips a beat.

What the actual fuck?

Does he have a secret room in this house?

I blink, staring at the opening, my mind racing. What kind of person keeps a secret passageway in their bedroom? And what exactly is hiding behind it? My curiosity spikes, but there's also a deep sense of unease curling in my stomach. Do I even want to know? This is Taehyung we're talking about. God knows what he's capable of hiding.

I glance toward the en-suite bathroom door, the sound of running water still coming from behind it. Of course, he'd leave me alone long enough to find something like this.

But... this is my house too now, right? And there's no way he wouldn't snoop if the roles were reversed. Before I can talk myself out of it, I step closer to the passageway.

Fuck it. I am about to find out my husband is a serial killer.

As I step cautiously into the passageway, I'm met with a faint, earthy smell. The narrow hallway leads to a winding staircase. Each step creaks slightly as I make my way down, the air growing cooler, more still. When I reach the bottom, I'm greeted by a sight that makes me stop in my tracks.