A legacy stolen, a betrayal hidden in the shadows, and a vengeance that refuses to die.
When his father is murdered, he loses everything his family, his empire, his name. Framed as a killer, he vanishes into the underworld, his heart burning for rev...
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Chapter 21
"Shadows of control"
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Alara pressed herself against the cold wall, heart pounding, as she listened to the heavy footsteps of guards echoing down the left hallway.
She glanced back and forth between the two dimly lit hallways, anxiety bubbling beneath her usual confidence. "Well, damn it," she whispered to herself. "Left or right, Alara?"
She forced herself to take a deep breath, deciding that her only chance was to go right. She gathered her courage and darted down the hallway, her bare feet quiet against the polished floor.
She glanced behind her, hoping no one had seen her, and quickened her pace, heart racing with each step. "Alright, Alara, keep it together. This isn't the first time you've had to sneak around," she murmured, though a hint of fear seeped into her voice.
As she turned the corner, she found herself facing a single door at the end of the hallway, the only path forward. She hesitated, glancing back to check for anyone who might be following.
"No going back now," she whispered, her voice tense but determined. She pushed the door open, slipping inside and quickly shutting it behind her. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the thick darkness surrounding her.
The room was pitch black, save for the faint sliver of light peeking under the door. Alara took a shaky breath, forcing herself to stay calm.
She placed her hands on the walls, feeling her way around. "Alright, whoever designed this creepy mansion, could've invested in some lighting," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
As her fingers traced along the wall, she heard a quiet sound a faint, steady breathing coming from somewhere in the room.
She froze, breath catching in her throat, a chill crawling up her spine. "Who's there?" she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady, though a shiver betrayed her fear.
Alara, pacing back and forth in frustration, stops when her eyes land on a large portrait on the opposite wall, partially shrouded in shadows.
She hesitates, drawn in by something eerily familiar about it.
Slowly, she steps forward, the silence in the room amplifying her growing unease with each step. Her pulse races as she approaches, and a shiver crawls down her spine.
She stares at the painting a hauntingly lifelike depiction of herself, adorned in a luxurious, dark gown with her gaze fixed forward, an intensity and darkness in her painted eyes that unsettles her.
She's almost unrecognizable, like a twisted, regal version of herself from a different world.
"What... is this?" she whispers, her voice wavering slightly as she struggles to process the image.
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