บท 9: Sounds of desire

Lying in the bed, Amelia thought of everything that happened since the previous day. She could neither dodge the pull of Enzo's presence nor the scorn and mocking tone that seemed to echo in Lily's voice. There was something about this place, this strange world she entered, and she just could not find peace. Every time she would close her eyes, every time she would try to push the thoughts from her mind, they crept right back out. Enzo, the way his strong hands had gripped her, his lips so close to her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

She squeezed her eyes shut in a bid to dam up the memories. I shouldn't be thinking about him, she told herself. I shouldn't be letting him get to me like this.

But it was no use. No matter how hard she tried to distract herself, the memories lingered. She had been a prisoner of her mind ever since she'd stepped into this house, and tonight even the walls of her bedroom seemed more constrictive.

Her breathing was slow and labored as she rolled onto her side in hope that at last she might plunge into sleep. But the more she tried to relax, the more she grew antsy. Why am I here? she thought, her mind a jumbled mess. Why did I even come to this place?

She had chosen to leave her past behind, to try to move on from her old life, but now she was trapped in a world that seemed even darker, more dangerous than anything she had known before. And Enzo. Enzo was the center of it all. A man whose power seemed limitless, whose coldness sent chills down her spine, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow drawing her in.

No, she thought firmly. I am not going to allow myself to fall into that pit.

Amelia shifted again, desperate for sleep to overwhelm her. The soft sheets beneath her, the gentle rustle of the curtains from the faint breeze outside, the faint hum of the mansion-all of it should have been soothing. Instead, it only added to the unease that gnawed within her.

Just as she felt herself drifting, something else broke the silence of the room. A soft sound to start with, distant, barely audible. She strained her ears; was that just her imagination? But then it came again: a soft, breathless moan.

It was as if her heart had skipped a beat. Amelia sat higher in bed; the blankets fell to her waist as she peered into the prematurely dark room. She was all alone-or so she thought. Suddenly, the room felt cold and more oppressive. Her pulse quickened as she listened keenly.

It came again-the moaning-a guttural, unmistakable sound, both of pleasure and pain. The sound was coming from the hallway, distanced but unmistakably close. Amelia's mind reeled, her breath short, trying to make sense of it.

What is that?

For a moment, her instincts told her to stay in bed, to remain hidden, to ignore whatever was happening outside her room. But the curiosity that burned inside her couldn't let her stay still. She had to know.

With a slow struggle, she pushed the covers aside and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her feet touched the cool floor, and she shuddered at the chill. She stood upright, her heart thudding in her chest, taking steps nearer as she crept toward the door. The sound grew louder with every step she took near; more desperate, more frantic.

Her hand trembled as she grasped the doorknob, turned it, and paused. She sensed that it would be one sound too many for the night's silence; truly, it was. The door crept open a crack, revealing to her a dim corridor; the shadows drew long along the floor. The whining sound was now almost unbearably loud for her to endure.

Amelia's curiosity propelled her forward. She crept down the hall, each step tentative, holding her breath inside her chest. The moans echoed throughout the empty mansion, growing louder with each step. They seemed to draw her in, as if something was calling her, pulling her closer to whatever was happening.

She turned a corner and stopped dead. There, at the far end of the corridor, one of the doors was ajar. The moaning was louder now, unmistakable: the sound of heavy breathing, of a body grinding against another.

Amelia felt her breath catch in her throat as her feet moved of their own accord toward the door. She did not push it, as though something darker than her fear had taken a hold and tugged her closer.

She was at the door and paused but a moment. Through the crack, she could see the flickering shadows of two figures. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her mind screaming at her to turn away, but she couldn't wrench her gaze from the scene before her. The shadows moved, the bodies pressed together in a way that made Amelia's stomach twist with something she couldn't name.

The pleas and the anguished moans were coming from within the room. Amelia's breath caught in her throat at the recognition of the figures. It was him. Enzo. His body was pressed into someone. The silhouette of another form just barely visible. His rough breathing combined with the soft whimpering of the other person.

Amelia felt her legs grow weak, her knees threatening to give way beneath her. Her body was frozen, caught between the desire to flee and the compulsion to watch. She didn't know why she was drawn to this scene, why it felt like her body was betraying her by not running away. But there she was, unable to move, unable to tear herself away.

For what felt like an eternity, she stood there, watching, unable to look away as Enzo's form moved against the other person, his presence dominant, controlling. The sounds they made echoed in her ears, raw and intimate.

Then, just as suddenly as it started, the noises stopped. The air grew thick with silence. Amelia's breath was shallow, her heart pounding in her chest. She stood there, her hand still gripping the doorframe, her mind struggling to process what she had just witnessed.

The door creaked open wider, and Amelia stepped back, her heart racing in her chest. Her legs felt like jelly, and she wanted nothing more than to escape, to retreat to the safety of her room. But her body wouldn't obey.

A figure emerged from the room—Lily. Her face was flushed, her lips slightly parted as if she were still trying to catch her breath. She looked at Amelia, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, with a smirk, Lily said, "Did you enjoy the show?"

Amelia's mouth went dry. She didn't know how to respond. Her mind was still reeling from what she had seen, from the images that would not leave her mind.

Lily's eyes flickered with amusement as she glanced back at the room. "You know, Amelia, you're not the only one who gets to be close to him," she said in a tone that was part mocking, part knowing. "But you'll learn, won't you? You'll learn how things work around here."

Amelia's throat tightened. She couldn't find the words to respond. The silence between them stretched on, thick and uncomfortable, as Lily finally stepped past her and walked down the hall, her footsteps fading into the distance.

Amelia stood there, her body still trembling, her mind spinning. She had just witnessed something that she didn't fully understand, something that had left her shaken to the core. And yet, the question remained: Why had she stayed? Why hadn't she turned away? Why had she been drawn to this scene, to Enzo, to all of it?

With trembling hands, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her mind still racing.

The truth was, she didn't know what she had walked in on. But she was certain of one thing. She was deeper into this world than she had ever intended to be.