Despite all of the expensive things that filled the penthouse, the space was barren.
Swallowing down my dread, I resolutely continued my search, losing track of time as I picked up, examined, and returned each object to its original position.
Desperation began to claw at my insides as I moved into the walk-in closet, the final room in my search for Stefano’s secrets. I pawed my way through his obscene number of suits, trailing my fingertips over the wooden panels behind where his clothes hung. One of the panels shifted beneath my touch, the slight bit of give almost imperceptible.
My heart leapt into my throat, and I shoved the suits aside to get a better look.
The wooden panels were each about a foot wide, and they notched together neatly. But on the far right where the final panel met the shared wall with the bathroom, there was a tiny seam of extra space. I pushed at it, gently at first, then with more force. The wood shifted the tiniest amount, but it wouldn’t slide free.
I managed to get my fingernails in the seam, applying pressure until the panel popped free. My stomach sank.
What if I couldn’t manage to put it back properly? Stefano would know I’d been snooping.
My budding anxiety gave way to excitement when I noted a small black box tucked into the empty space that had been hidden by the panel. I dropped to my knees and snatched it up, noticing too late that the aging cardboard box was covered in a fine layer of dust. It would be impossible to put this back exactly as I’d found it, but if it was dusty, that indicated that Stefano didn’t often look at whatever the box contained.
Twine had been tied in a bow around it, securing the lid in place. I tugged it free, setting the delicate binding down on the carpet beside me so I could open the box.
Despite the aged appearance of the vessel itself, the red velvet pouch inside suggested that Stefano valued whatever he was hiding.
Placing the box on the floor beside the twine, I fixed my full attention on the pouch. It was unmarked, giving no indication of the object’s origin.
I loosened the black satin cords at the top and turned the pouch over, dropping its contents into my hand.
For several seconds, I simply stared at it, my mind struggling to sort out what I was looking at. The metal was obviously precious—its shade indicating a high karat gold. Three small, milky white stones were partially embedded in it. Even though the materials were somewhat valuable, the gold wasn’t fashioned in a functional style. Whatever adornment it had once been was melted, leaving the piece as a twisted ruin.
The obvious lack of monetary value meant that Stefano hadn’t hidden this treasure away to protect an asset; he had buried his secret in this box.
I turned it over in my hands, as though the mysterious object would reveal exactly what it meant to Stefano if I studied it closely enough. Discovering it had been a minor miracle, but it turned out that maybe he had underestimated me, after all. I was determined to survive this captivity with my mind intact, and that stubbornness had led me to explore every nook and cranny of his home until I happened upon something that I could use as leverage against him.
Maybe Stefano did have a single, devastating weakness: his obsession with me.
I eyed the evidence of his small secret, parsing out every bit of information I could glean from it. The milky stones didn’t appear precious, but the fact that they were embedded in gold suggested that appearance was deceiving. I wasn’t certain how much heat was required to damage a diamond, but the state of the twisted metal indicated that it had been exposed to high temperatures. The piece wouldn’t be in this condition unless someone had intentionally destroyed it.
Had Stefano done this himself?
He’d hidden it away quite carefully, and the dust on the box indicated that he didn’t often observe this treasure.
Was he hoarding something that he had destroyed? Keeping a symbol of his cruel victory embedded in the heart of his home?
My jaw set, the grim truth settling in my mind. Yes, that scenario tracked with the way Stefano operated. He was trapping me in his home so that he could savor his victory over me, slowly destroying everything that I was so that he could covet his ruined trophy.
He’d claimed that he wasn’t sadistic, but this discovery revealed that his intentional malice was more deeply entrenched in his soul than any other monster I’d ever encountered.
Bandit’s playful chirp pulled me out of my mounting horror, and I turned my attention to my furry little friend. He really was far too sweet for Stefano, offering me comfort when he sensed that I was upset.