The Luna Choosing Game

Chapter 0265

While the princes were giving interviews with the camera crews, Terry and a few of his servants escorted the candidates, including myself, on a tour of his mansion.

When the plan had been suggested, I had seen the worry in both Nicholas’s and Julian’s gazes, but their concern was merely blinding them to the benefits of such a move. If I could take the tour, perhaps Terry would show us to some of his more private offices. And if I could sl*p away…

I tried to convey as such with my eyes, unable to privately speak with Nicholas and Julian, but my efforts only seemed to double their worry. I wouldn’t be waylaid from my plan, however. This was the reason we had even pushed to have this event.

We needed the dirt on Terry, and this was the perfect way to find it.

Terry led the way, with the candidates behind, and the servants following. I had hoped there would be enough of us that I would have a chance to sl*p away. As it was, Terry kept me in his shadow. He touched my wrist when I dared stray too far from his side.

The gleam in his eyes made me nervous to openly disobey, almost like that was what he wanted me to do, so that he could put into practice his promise of… breaking me.

I shuddered at the thought. I could only imagine the horrors of what that would entail. From what it sounded like, my consent was not a part of the equation.

Finally, after several long minutes of waiting for Terry’s guard to drop, Jessica stopped him and asked about one of the artworks.

“Is this real? These brushstrokes look fake,” she said.

Terry’s entire face went red with outrage. “I can assure you this is legitimate, young lady.”

He walked closer to her and the artwork in question. He reached out, tracing the lines of the brushstrokes without actually touching the painting.

is his early work. If you look/closer

even with the servants. None of them looked at me. None seemed to notice or care when

to move backwards until I was near

down this hallway. I had no idea where I was going. But this was the only good

to ask too many questions when hit with that excuse.

door. I found many bedrooms, some closets or storage rooms, a few sitting rooms, and then finally an office.

my gaze across the office to make sure it was empty, I ducked inside.

clean, with every pen in its place

manila folders, and began fl*pping through them. They all seemed innocuous: copies of electric and water bills, a statement from an internet provider, an estimate for next year’s insurance information.

mostly signed by Terry’s accountant, which made me wonder if this was even Terry’s office at all. The walls were trimmed in

to be directly connected to his decadence. So this room could

One drawer held a fancy paperweight with no papers underneath. The drawer

was written on the notepads. The pens were all symmetrical and identical. They gave

here seemed to be incriminating in the slightest. Or, if it was, I would need

absence would be noticed enough for me to be actively looked for. My bathroom excuse would only

door, suddenly, it slammed shut.

breath, scared even the sound of breathing too

for a long moment for all sounds to cease, and then I waited a minute

to be a knob to turn on the inside. There’was no lock on the inside. The only thing on the door handle was a keyhole.

Yet when I turned the doorknob, it clattered and would

I was trapped.

going