Chapter Three: The Secret Room
Lara barely slept that night.
Every time she closed her eyes, the image came back—the photos, the red ink circling her face, the sound of the door creaking open behind her. And Daniel's voice, low and deadly:
> "Rule #2—stay out of places you weren't invited into."
He knew.
But how?
Did he have cameras? Motion sensors? Or… was he already there, watching her the whole time?
By the time morning broke, Lara was still wide awake. But this time, it wasn't fear dragging her out of bed—it was curiosity. And something darker.
---
She arrived at the office ten minutes early, dressed in a navy-blue blouse and matching pants. Her makeup was minimal, her face unreadable.
If Daniel noticed anything, he didn't show it.
He walked past her desk with his usual sleek confidence, coffee in one hand, files in the other.
"Morning," he said without looking at her.
"Good morning, sir."
That was it.
No questions. No confrontation. No threats.
It unsettled her more than anything else.
---
By 10 a.m., Mrs. Dada summoned Lara to her own office.
The Operations Manager sat behind a desk covered in paperwork. Her eyes scanned Lara from head to toe.
"You're still here," she said flatly.
Lara blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You're the fourth assistant this year. Most don't make it past day two."
"I guess I'm different."
Mrs. Dada leaned forward. "Listen to me. Whatever charm Daniel Okoye has, it's not real. He's dangerous. And not in the 'bad boy' way. In the 'people disappear around him' way."
Lara's breath caught.
"You're exaggerating."
"Am I?" She tapped a folder. "Look up Amanda Obi. She worked here six months ago. Pretty, smart, loyal. She went missing three weeks after starting. Police never found her."
Lara's chest tightened. "What… what are you trying to say?"
"I'm saying keep your head down. This job pays well, but it costs more than money. Just do your work, follow the rules, and don't go digging into anything."
Mrs. Dada handed her a sealed envelope. "Drop this in Daniel's private file drawer. You know the one."
Lara hesitated. "In his office?"
She nodded.
Lara took the envelope, her fingers suddenly cold.
---
Daniel was out of the office for a meeting. She checked his calendar herself—he wouldn't be back for another hour.
This was her chance.
The hallway to his office felt longer than usual. Empty. Silent.
She opened the door slowly, stepping into that luxurious room filled with shadows and silence.
Everything was the same.
Except now, she knew it wasn't safe.
---
The drawer was locked, but she had the access code. Daniel had given it to her on the first day, claiming it was "for emergencies only."
This felt like one.
She keyed it in—6-7-9-0—and the drawer clicked open.
Papers. Contracts. Files.
And… something odd.
A black notebook with a leather strap wrapped around it three times.
It looked handmade.
Lara's curiosity burned. She shouldn't. She really shouldn't.
But her fingers moved on their own.
She opened it.
Inside were pages upon pages of handwritten notes. All in Daniel's tight, precise cursive. But they weren't business records.
They were… observations.
> "Lara wears blue when she's nervous."
"She bites her lip when confused. She doesn't trust easily."
"She looked into the photo room. 8 minutes, 14 seconds. She did not touch anything. But she wanted to."
Lara gasped.
He'd timed her?
> "She is exactly what I thought she would be. Soft on the outside. Steel inside. The others lacked that. She does not."
Who were the others?
Her hand shook as she turned another page.
Photos.
Not printed ones—hand-drawn. Pencil sketches. Of her.
Sitting at her desk. Talking on the phone. One of her crying.
When had he seen that?
And then—at the bottom—just three words in bold, red ink:
> "Do not break her."
---
Lara snapped the notebook shut, heart pounding like a drum.
This wasn't just obsession.
This was control. Surveillance. Study.
Why her?
She shoved the envelope into the drawer and locked it, trying to erase the memory of what she saw. But the words were branded into her mind.
> Do not break her.
As if she were… being tested.
---
That evening, Daniel didn't mention anything.
He returned from his meeting, glanced over at her once, then disappeared into his office. Not a word.
Around 6 p.m., when she finally packed up to leave, she found something waiting on her desk.
A sticky note.
> "Red suits you better."
She was still wearing navy blue.
Her heart skipped.
How did he know what she was wearing yesterday?
She didn't even own anything red.
Until…
Her birthday. Last week. She wore a red gown to a small party at home. Only close friends attended. It wasn't on her social media. Not even a selfie.
She remembered laughing in that dress.
And now Daniel had seen it.
Somehow.
---
The next day brought no peace.
She kept working, kept smiling, kept pretending everything was normal.
But her mind was racing.
She needed answers.
If Daniel was watching her, sketching her, circling her picture in red ink, keeping notes… what was his endgame?
Why her?
What happened to the others?
---
She waited until lunch break.
The floor cleared out—everyone gone to the cafeteria or outside. Daniel had a client call scheduled. His door was shut.
Now.
She moved quickly through the hallway to the place she swore she wouldn't go back to.
The room with the photos.
The door was still cracked open.
She pushed it gently.
The walls were still covered. But something had changed.
The photo of her was gone.
In its place was a new one. A candid shot. Her, sitting at her desk, holding her phone, smiling faintly.
And under it, in that same red ink, one word:
> "Awakened."
Her blood ran cold.
Lara turned to leave—and froze.
A mirror on the wall. She hadn't noticed it before.
Except…
It wasn't a mirror.
It was a window.
And behind it, in the shadows, someone was watching her.
---
She bolted out of the room, heart slamming in her chest.
She didn't look back.
She ran straight to the elevator, hitting the button again and again. Her reflection in the doors looked pale. Scared.
The elevator dinged.
She stepped in.
Just as the doors began to close, a hand reached in and stopped them.
Daniel.
He stepped in slowly, calmly.
No briefcase. No files.
Just him and her.
They stood in silence as the elevator descended.
Finally, he spoke.
"I don't like liars, Lara."
She stared ahead. "Neither do I."
Another silence.
Then he smiled.
But this time… it cracked.
A tiny twitch at the corner.
"Be careful," he whispered. "The truth has a cost."
The elevator stopped.
He walked out first.
And for the first time, Lara realized—
she wasn't scared of him.
She was scared of what she might do next.
Because she didn't want to run away.
She wanted to know everything.