~Bianca's POV~

My heart hammered so hard against my ribcage, it nearly drowned out the profound silence of the house.

I pressed my back flatly against the wood, crouched low in a place I was certain Damien would never check: an old linen closet hidden behind the east wing hall. The sought of place that had the faint smell of cedar and mothballs, which was stacked with folded sheets I was a hundred percent sure had remained untouched for years.

Why here? Because it was way too obvious. ...