The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the mansion's grand entrance as Marcus finally returned home from the hospital, the speed of his car reflecting the fire he felt burning his whole being.
He looked weary and worn, his usual composed demeanor replaced by a messy appearance and dark circles under his eyes from spending over 15 hours at the hospital.
The events of the day had taken a toll on him, and he was in no mood for games.
He then hopped out of the car and slammed the door hard, making the workers outside glance at each other. They got a feeling a bomb was about to explode. He passed
As he stepped inside the mansion, he called for the staff, his voice commanding and authoritative. "Gather everyone in the living room. Now!" he barked, and the maids and servants quickly complied, fear evident in their eyes.
In the living room, the staff members gathered hesitantly, unsure of what to expect from their enraged master.
Marcus stood before them, a picture of dominance and power, but they could also see the turmoil beneath the surface.
"I want to know who started the fire at the cottage," he demanded, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of guilt. "Speak up now, and you might just escape my wrath."
Silence filled the room, and none of the staff dared to utter a word. They were too scared to betray any knowledge they might have, even if it was only a suspicion.
"I won't ask again," Marcus growled, his patience wearing thin. "If any of you have any information, now is the time to speak up. If I find out later that one of you kept silent, you'll regret it."
Still, no one spoke.
"Carmen," She titled her head to face him, meanwhile trying to gather as much courage as possible, "You are in charge of the house and you don't know what the hell happened?"
She looked down as if disappointed by herself. It was true. She was in charge of keeping the house in good shape and yet didn't know how the fire started.
"I fear I do not know the cause or who started the fire, sir. However, they are still investigating,"
Marcus smirked in disbelief and looked at the others again. The fear was palpable, and the staff exchanged nervous glances, unwilling to be the one to step forward and face Marcus's anger.
"Fine," Marcus spat, a sinister smile creeping across his face. "If none of you are willing to confess, then I'll just have to find the culprit myself. And when I do, they'll wish they were never born."
The staff shuddered, knowing that Marcus's threats were not empty. He had a reputation for being ruthless and vengeful, and they had all witnessed the consequences of crossing him before.
"You all have one hour, " Marcus declared, his voice cold and calculating. "One hour to come forward and confess. If no one speaks by then, I'll assume whoever did it meant it and once I find who that dog is, it will pay dearly for it!"
Juan looked at Marcus, and a silent smirk of satisfaction appeared on his face. He was the dog who was meant to pay anyway.
However, That much he deserved.
If he was going to hurt other people, he should at least taste the wrath of the cruelty he usually practiced.
Marcus, however, didn't think like that. All he cared about at the moment was revenge against whoever started the fire.
With that, he turned and stormed off, leaving the staff in a state of fear and uncertainty.
Sighs of relief escaped many people. It was as if Marcused inhaled all oxygen, leaving the other with nothing until he left.
"Good gracious!" One of the maids said in relief, her hand patting her chest.
"Did someone start the fire?" another one asked, "Sir Aidan is too harmless to be hated that much,"
"I would believe it if it was the other brother who got caught in the cottage," Another maid blurted out, making everyone look at her with bigger glares, Carmen included.
"Lolita! Before you get everyone into trouble, shut that mouth of yours up, please!" Carmen warned in a whisper.
Lolita swallowed hard slowly murmuring. It was a bitter truth. She thought.
The mansion was later filled with a frightening silence as they each grappled with the knowledge that they were now new members of the dangerous game.
On the other side of the equation, Juan trailed Marcus as he went inside his room. Upon closing the door, Juan opened another one that led him straight to Marcus's office.
Entering the office, Juan's heart pounded with anticipation and anxiety. The room held many secrets, and he knew that finding any evidence would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.
Careful not to disturb anything, he began to dig through documents and files, searching for any clue that could shed light that would lead to answering his questions.
Perla. Camilla. The truth behind these two women was still unclear and confusing. How did Perla die? Why were there speculations that Camilla shared the same father that he and Marcus did? And lastly, what was the real reason for Marcus to marry her?
The clock was ticking, and time seemed to speed up and slow down at the same time. Juan's hands were still as he came across a locked drawer. His instincts told him that this might hold the key he was looking for.
With a deep breath, he picked up the lock and slowly opened the drawer. Inside, he found a collection of old photographs, letters, and documents.
As he began to dig through them, his heart stopped when he found a faded photograph of a woman with a young child in her arms.
The woman's face was hauntingly familiar, and as Juan looked closer, he realized that she bore a striking resemblance to Camilla. His mind raced, and his heart pounded in his chest. What was this picture doing inside there?
Before he could process his emotions, the door to the office creaked open, and he froze. His heart pounded in his ears as he turned to see who was entering
"Camilla," Juan whispered, his voice catching in his throat. "I... I didn't expect to see you here."
Camilla's eyes darted to the drawer, and then back to Juan. "We meet again," She gave a quick smile.
"And what are you doing in Marcus's office?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and concern.
"I was just... looking for something," Juan replied, trying to think on his feet. "I thought I heard a noise and came to investigate."
Camilla's gaze lingered on the drawer again, and Juan could see the questions in her eyes. "What's... On your hand?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Juan hesitated for a moment, then made a quick decision. He held up the faded photograph, showing it to Camilla. "This... I found this. It looks like an old picture of a woman and a child. Do you know who they are?"
Camilla took the photograph from Juan's hands and looked at it. Her eyes furrowed as she recognized the two faces displayed on it.
"I... I think," Camilla whispered, a bit of shock evident in her eyes. "I think that's me. My mother has this picture too. Where did you get it?"
As Juan and Camilla stood in Marcus's office, their shared secret and the photograph weighing heavily on their minds, they heard the door creak open behind them. Panic surged through their veins as they quickly looked for a place to hide.
With no time to think, Juan pulled Camilla towards a large antique wardrobe nearby. They slipped inside just in time, their hearts pounding loudly in their chests as they huddled closely together in the confined space.
Camilla's heart pounded even more when she realized where her hand was placed. The place where if it wasn't for the trousers, she would be touching his manhood, making Juan's breathing more restless.
As if that was not enough, her chest was pressed against his. Her rocky hard nipples were rigidly felt against him.