"What are you hiding, Nathaniel?" I demanded, my voice shaking.
He strode forward, grabbing my arm. His grip was firm but not painful. "This isn’t a game, Tiffany. Get out. Now."
"Not until you tell me the truth!" I shot back.
His eyes burned with a mix of anger and desperation. "If you don’t leave, you’ll regret it."
My breath caught as I noticed a faint glimmer behind the mirror, like a light flickering to life.
"What’s behind there?" I whispered.
Nathaniel’s grip tightened for a moment before he let go, his expression hardening.
"Go back to your room, Tiffany," he said, his voice cold and final.
I hesitated, my instincts screaming at me to defy him. But something in his gaze stopped me.
I turned to leave, I caught his reflection in the mirror. The look in his eyes wasn’t just anger or frustration—it was fear.
My chest tightened as I stepped into the hallway, Nathaniel closing the door behind me with a resolute thud.
Whatever he was hiding in the west wing, it was something he was willing to go to war to protect.
"You’ll regret this, Nathaniel," I muttered under my breath.
But as the silence of the house swallowed me once more, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d be the one to regret it.