Chapter 5 Uninvited Guests

The knock at the door came sharp and quick, slicing through the silence sharply.

Xochi froze mid-step. She hadn't been expecting anyone-Chris had made sure of that. No visitors. No friends. No calls. Just isolation wrapped in luxury.

Another knock. Then stillness.

She moved to the door cautiously, heart pounding in her chest, and peeked through the small slit where the door hadn't fully latched. A man stood in the hallway, tall and dressed in a deep navy delivery uniform. His cap was pulled low over his eyes, casting a shadow across his face, and in his hands, he held a small rectangular parcel, the kind used for confidential couriers.

It could've been a genuine mistake. Maybe someone had delivered something to the wrong room.

But her gut twisted.

"Who is it?" she asked, her voice sharp, wary.

The man lifted his head, just enough for the light above the hallway to catch his face.

Xochi's blood turned to ice.

It was him.

Louis.

A man from her past.

Her hand dropped from the door instantly, body rigid with disbelief. He shouldn't be here-couldn't be here. This mansion was locked down, guarded, constantly surveilled. Yet there he stood, dressed like some harmless courier, blending in like he belonged.

And that terrified her more than anything else.

She opened the door just wide enough to speak. "What are you doing here?"

Louis gave a smile that was all charm and no warmth. "Special delivery," he said smoothly, lifting the parcel a little. "For someone very important."

"You're not supposed to be here." Her voice faltered, and she hated how weak it sounded.

"And yet, here I am." He took a slow step forward, and she instinctively moved back. "It wasn't hard, Xochi. A uniform, a name badge, a little confidence... People see what they expect to see."

She should have slammed the door in his face. Should have screamed for someone. But her body didn't move. Something about Louis always froze her in place-like prey caught in the gaze of a predator.

"You're trespassing," she said tightly.

Louis gave a small, amused scoff and stepped inside before she could react, pushing the door shut behind him with the softest click. The parcel dropped onto the nearby table with a dull thud, forgotten.

"Don't be dramatic," he said. "I just needed a moment with you. That's all."

"A moment for what?" she shot back. "Manipulation? Another sick power play?"

Louis's smile deepened. "Don't sound so disappointed. I'm not here to threaten you."

"No?" she challenged. "Because breaking in wearing a disguise says otherwise."

"I didn't break in. I was let in. You'd be surprised how easy it is when everyone thinks you're someone else." His voice was steady, unnerving in its calm. "Besides, you of all people should know how easy it is to fake a role."

She stiffened. "What do you want, Louis?"

His eyes searched her face for a moment, something unreadable flickering behind his gaze. "I want you to understand where you stand."

"I already know."

"No, Xochi. You think you know, but you don't. You think Chris is your jailer? You're wrong. He's just the walls. I'm the door."

She stared at him, unwilling to let herself flinch.

He stepped closer, hands now in his pockets, posture relaxed but eyes locked on hers. "You don't belong here, not like this. Not as a pawn. You have power, Xochi, if you'd stop pretending you're powerless."

"I don't want your help."

"I'm not offering it. I'm giving you a choice."

"No," she said firmly. "You're giving me a leash."

For a moment, the smile dropped. Something colder settled in his face.

"Then I hope you like collars," he said quietly. "Because Chris? He doesn't loosen his grip. He breaks you until you're pliant. And then he leaves you just enough to hope you'll crawl back for more."

She couldn't help the tremor that ran through her. Louis noticed.

"But me?" he continued, circling her like he was testing for cracks. "I don't need you broken. I just need you smart."

She turned away, needing space to breathe. The room felt smaller now, darker, though the curtains hadn't moved.

"You're not here for me," she muttered. "You're here for something else. What is it?"

Louis picked up the parcel again, turned it over in his hands thoughtfully. "Let's just say... I'm preparing for what comes next."

A pause.

"Something's happening, isn't it?" she asked, quieter now.

Louis tilted his head. "Maybe. Maybe not. But you'll want to be on the right side of it when it does."

Before she could demand more, a knock came from the other side of the door.

They both stilled.

Then came another knock-more insistent this time.

Louis's entire demeanor shifted. He set the parcel down again, jaw tightening.

"You're not alone," he muttered, gaze darting toward the door.

Xochi's pulse thundered in her ears.

The door creaked open.

Henri stepped inside, calm and composed as ever, but with an edge in his voice, he gave Louis a quizzical look, and mentally concluded he must be the mail man. "Madame Moreau. You're needed. Now."

Xochi glanced between them, caught in a silence that said more than any words could.

"What's going on?" she asked, voice tight.

"There's been a change in plans," Henri said evenly. "You're required elsewhere."

Louis gave a slow nod, stepping back just enough to let her pass. "Looks like we'll continue this later."

She hesitated-but only for a second-before brushing past him.

"Xochi" Louis said softly as she stepped into the hallway.

She didn't reply. She didn't have to. Every part of her was already unraveling. And she had the sinking feeling that this-this moment-was a point of no return.

Henri walked briskly ahead, but Xochi's heart thundered louder than their footsteps.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the hall, growing louder with each passing second. Xochi's heart raced as she turned a corner, only to come face to face with Chris himself, his expression colder than ever.

"You've made a mistake," he said quietly, his voice like ice. "And now, you'll pay the price."