The Woman He Tried to Erase

The walls whispered secrets in that place.

I didn't know how long I had been lying on the cold floor of the east wing, staring at the cracks in the ceiling, listening to my own heartbeat. It was slower now, weaker.

Hunger gnawed at me, thirst burned my throat, but the real pain ran deeper than that. It was the kind of pain that settled in the bones—the kind that came with the realization that I was never meant to survive.

They didn’t want me alive. They wanted me to wither.

I closed my eyes. Maybe if I slept, I wouldn’t wake up. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

Then—

Creak.

My eyes snapped open. A soft noise, barely there, came from the far corner of the room. The wall shifted. No—not the wall. A hidden panel. A door. Slowly, it swung open, revealing a sliver of darkness beyond.

And then, a hand. Long fingers. A firm grip. Reaching for me.

My body locked up. I should have screamed. I should have pulled away. But then a voice, low and urgent, whispered,

“Come with me. Now.”

I hesitated. The voice belonged to a man, but not one of Rafael’s guards. Not one of his monsters. It was calm. Steady.

“Who…” My throat was raw. The words scraped against my skin. “Who are you?”

A shadow shifted, stepping closer. Moonlight spilled through the cracks, illuminating sharp cheekbones, intense gray eyes behind thin glasses.

I knew him.

Dr. Elias Navarro. Rafael’s private physician. The man who had stitched up bullet wounds, whispered medical advice in hushed tones, and stayed in the background of Rafael’s world like a ghost. And now he was here. Helping me.

I didn’t trust it. I didn’t trust him. But I didn’t have a choice, did I?

He knelt beside me, pressing something into my hand. A small vial. A pill.

“Drink this,” he murmured. “It’ll keep you on your feet long enough to follow me.”

I stared at it. “Why are you doing this?”

His jaw tightened. “Because I need you.”

A bitter laugh scraped out of me. “You need me? What could I possibly have that Rafael’s personal doctor doesn’t?”

Elias exhaled sharply. “I’ll explain later. But if you stay here, you’ll die.” He leaned in, his voice low, urgent. “I need you to save a life, and in return, I’ll give you yours back.”

Save a life?

My fingers tightened around the vial. I should have said no. I should have pushed him away. But I swallowed the pill.

Because survival was a game. And I never played to lose.

***

The passage behind the hidden door was cold and narrow, the air thick with dust. I stumbled, my legs weak from starvation, but Elias caught me before I hit the ground.

“Not yet,” he murmured. “We’re almost there.”

I didn’t ask where "there" was. I just followed.

We slipped through corridors I had never known existed, winding through the mansion like ghosts in the walls. The farther we went, the more my stomach knotted. Something about it felt… wrong.

Not like a rescue. Like a trap.

Elias finally stopped in front of a heavy wooden door, his fingers curling around the handle. He hesitated. Then he looked at me.

“You’re about to see something Rafael never wanted you to see.”

My pulse stuttered. “What?”

Elias didn’t answer. He just pushed the door open.

And my world tilted.

***

She lay on the bed, pale and unmoving.

A woman.

A breathing, living woman.

Her skin was paper-thin, her lips slightly parted, her chest rising and falling in slow, shallow breaths. Tubes snaked from her arms, IV drips keeping her tethered to life. Her long, dark hair spilled over the pillow like ink.

She looked like a ghost. But ghosts didn’t breathe.

I stepped closer, my knees weak. My hands trembled as I reached for her wrist, pressing two fingers against her pulse.

It was faint. But steady.

I swallowed hard. “Who is she?”

Elias didn’t answer right away. “She’s... She’s Rafael’s first wife.”

The words hit like a gunshot.

“No.” My head shook, rejecting the impossible. “That’s not—his wife is dead.”

“Is she?” Elias murmured.

I turned to him, my heartbeat thudding in my ears. “Rafael buried her.”

Elias let out a slow, measured breath. “He said he did.”

My stomach twisted.

“No,” I whispered again. “That doesn’t make sense. If she’s alive, then why—”

“He keeps her like this.” Elias gestured at the IVs, the sedatives. “Just enough to keep her breathing. Just enough to keep her silent.”

The room spun.

This woman—this corpse bride—was connected to Rafael’s greatest secret.

And I had just walked straight into it.