Chapter 6
The air wafting up from the cellar was freezing, thick with the scent of damp earth and rust. Ethan stood at the top of the stone staircase, the ambient light from the hallway barely penetrating the oppressive darkness below. He reached into his suit pocket, retrieving a small, high-powered silver flashlight. The beam cut through the gloom, revealing the steep, treacherous descent.
"Will you hold the door open, Lucy?" Ethan asked, glancing back at the maid who was valiantly keeping the gun trained on the two incapacitated guards.
"Yes, sir. I won't let it close," Lucy assured him, wedging a heavy wooden chair against the iron doorframe to ensure it couldn't be locked from the outside.
Ethan began his descent. His polished leather shoes clicked softly against the cold, uneven stone steps. With every step deeper into the subterranean prison, the cold, perceptive detachment he usually carried began to fracture. He was a ruthless mafia boss, a man who commanded fear and respect across the city, yet he had been completely blind to the suffering of his own wife.
"Claire?" Ethan called out, his deep, measured voice echoing off the damp walls. "Can you hear me?"
"Ethan?" Claire’s voice was incredibly weak, coming from the far corner of the massive, cavernous cellar. "I'm here."
Ethan swept the flashlight beam across the dark expanse. The cellar was primarily used for wine storage, filled with massive oak barrels and locked iron cages. In the furthest corner, directly beneath the brass floor vent of the dining room, was a small, rusted iron enclosure.
The beam of light landed on her. Claire Blackwell was huddled against the cold iron bars, shielding her eyes from the blinding light. Her simple, worn dress was frayed at the edges, completely inadequate for the freezing temperatures. Her fair skin was covered in dirt and soot, and her loosely gathered hair was wild and unkempt. She looked exhausted, starved, and unimaginably frail.
Ethan’s breath caught in his throat. The sight of her, broken and caged like an animal, ignited a terrifying, white-hot fury deep within his chest. He closed the distance in long, rapid strides, dropping to his knees on the filthy concrete floor right outside her cage.
"Did she do this to you?" Ethan asked, his voice trembling slightly, the absolute first crack in his iron-clad composure. He reached his tattooed hands through the thick iron bars, gently cradling her dirty, tear-stained face.
Claire leaned into his touch, her desperate, frightened eyes searching his angular face. "She told me you ordered it, Ethan. She said you were tired of me. She said you wanted to marry her, and this was the only way to make me disappear without questions."
"Did you truly believe I could ever throw you away in the dark?" Ethan asked, his thumb gently wiping a smudge of dirt from her cheekbone.
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"I didn't want to believe it," Claire sobbed, pressing her forehead against the cold iron bars, desperately trying to get closer to him. "But the days turned into months. And I could hear you walking right above my head. I screamed for you, Ethan. Why didn't you hear me?"
"Will you ever forgive me for being deaf to your cries?" Ethan asked, a single tear escaping his cold, observant eyes as he reached for the lock on the cage.
