Chapter 1 - The Second Price
The silence in the grand room felt heavier than before.
Anaëlle forced her trembling fingers back onto the cool ivory keys.
She began to play the next movement of the haunting Chopin piece.
Her heart hammered violently against her ribs.
The scent of dark amber and vetiver lingered just behind her shoulder.
She knew the dangerous man was still standing perfectly still right there.
He was watching her every single movement in the dark.
The silk blindfold pressed softly against her eyelids.
It heightened her other senses to an agonizing, terrifying degree.
She heard the faint clinking of ice against heavy crystal.
He was pouring himself a drink in the shadows.
"You have beautiful hands," his velvet voice echoed through the vast space.
She swallowed hard, trying desperately to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks.
"Thank you," she whispered softly into the empty room.
"Focus on the tempo," he commanded gently but firmly.
She nodded silently and adjusted her posture on the wooden bench.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the ceiling directly above them.
It sounded exactly like heavy furniture being thrown across a hardwood floor.
Anaëlle gasped in pure, unfiltered shock.
Her right hand slipped awkwardly on the polished keyboard.
A harsh, discordant chord rang out, completely ruining the beautiful melody.
She froze entirely, terrified of what would happen next.
The man sighed deeply in the absolute darkness behind her.
"That is your second mistake," he murmured dangerously low.
She felt his large, warm hands brush against her bare neck.
He expertly unclasped the cheap silver necklace she always wore.
"Please, that belonged to my late mother," she pleaded blindly.
"It belongs to me now," he replied with chilling coldness.
He leaned incredibly close to her trembling ear.
"Do you know why I really brought you here tonight, Anaëlle?"
She shook her head, absolutely terrified that he actually knew her real name.
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"You are not here just to entertain me with music," he whispered.
"You are here to provide an airtight alibi for a murder."
