Chapter 173: The chaos at the party (Part 1)

Words : 1173 Updated : Sep 25th, 2025

Chapter 173: The chaos at the party (Part 1) As they continued down the corridor, the sounds of chattering and music from the grand hall faded into a distant hum. Only their footsteps echoed against the marble floor. The hallway stretched before them, dim and sterile, with the occasional flicker from an overhead bulb. Anne’s unease deepened. She slowed slightly and glanced over her shoulder. The corridor behind them was empty and silent. "Where is the tool room?" she asked. "Just at the far end," the man replied, not meeting her eyes. Anne’s fingers clenched the fabric of her dress as a chill ran down her spine. The light above them buzzed, then flickered again eerily. They reached a heavy door tucked at the corridor’s end. The man pushed it open just a crack and motioned her inside. Anne hesitated but stepped in, lifting the hem of her dress. Boxes were stacked high along the walls—leather rolls, crates, and scattered tool kits cluttered the space. But there was no sign of Sarah. She turned abruptly. "Wait—where is Sarah?" The door clicked shut behind her instantly. The sound of the latch locking reached her ear. "Hey! Wait!" Anne rushed to the door, heart thudding wildly. She grabbed the knob and twisted it frantically. It didn’t budge. Panic gripped her chest. "Open the door!" she shouted, banging her fists against the solid wood. "Let me out!" Her voice echoed, but she didn’t get any answer. She was trapped. Then, the bulb above her sputtered and went out. Darkness fell like a curtain. Anne froze, cold sweat crawling down her back. Her breath came shallow and quick, her lungs constricting with panic. The suffocating darkness swallowed her, pressing in from all sides. She instinctively wrapped her arms around herself as the past dread clawed up her spine. Memories of Patricia shutting her away in a pitch-black storeroom for hours, without food or water, rushed back to Anne with brutal force. The trauma of those dark days gripped her like a vice, paralyzing her. She wanted to scream, to slam her fists against the door, but the memory of Patricia’s violent beatings whenever she dared to cry held her back. Anne’s knees buckled. She sank to the floor, curling up tightly as if trying to make herself disappear. She buried her face into her arms, her body trembling uncontrollably. Tears burned behind her eyes, but not a single sound escaped her lips. Fear had silenced her. Yet deep within, a quiet voice reminded her—she was no longer that powerless girl. She had Augustine now. She wasn’t alone anymore. His name rang like a lifeline. ’I’m not that girl anymore,’ her inner voice murmured. ’I have to call him.’ Her shaking hand groped for her purse, desperate to pull out her phone. She could barely feel her fingers, her muscles stiff with fear. "Anne?" The sound of Audrey’s voice echoed faintly through the door. Anne’s heart surged. Her eyes widened. She tried to answer, "Audrey." But her voice didn’t come out of her throat. "Anne? Where are you?" Anne pressed her palm to her neck. Why wasn’t her voice working? Why couldn’t she scream? Her panic spiked again, but this time she fought it. She pushed herself upright and staggered to the door. With trembling fingers, she rapped on the wood—lightly at first. Then, with growing urgency, she began to pound on it harder. Thump. Thump. Thump. "Help," she rasped, her voice rough, scratchy like gravel. But this time, it came out. Audrey heard the sound, her gaze moving to the closed door at the far end of the corridor. She hurried over there. "Anne? Are you there?" "Help me, Audrey," Anne said, a little louder this time. "I am trapped here." Audrey flung the door open, and a shaft of light from the corridor sliced through the darkness. Her breath hitched when she spotted Anne by the door. "Are you alright?" Audrey rushed to her, holding her shoulders. Anne collapsed into her arms, clinging tightly. Caught off guard, Audrey froze for a beat before instinctively wrapping her arms around Anne. "What happened?" she asked softly, glancing around the cluttered room. But Anne couldn’t speak. Her throat felt tight, her mind still reeling. She simply clung tighter. Audrey felt Anne trembling and didn’t push her for answers. Instead, she gently stroked her hair, murmuring soothingly, "It’s okay. You are safe now. I’m here. Just breathe." Anne’s heartbeat slowly steadied, the panic that had gripped her beginning to fade. "Thank you for coming," she murmured. "I saw Sarah back in the hall," Audrey said. "That didn’t sit right with me. When I asked her, she said she had never sent any staff member to you. I knew something was off, so I came looking." Anne’s nails dug into the purse. "That man... he locked me in here and cut the lights." "That sick coward," Audrey hissed. "Why would he do that to you?" Anne didn’t answer, but suspicion churned in her gut. It had to be Tania. Before she could voice her thoughts, a high-pitched scream pierced the air, echoing from the hall and shaking the silence around them. "What was that?" Audrey gasped, fear flashing in her eyes. Anne’s heart lurched. "Augustine!" she whispered, dread tightening her chest. "Let’s go." She ran down the corridor, Audrey trailing close behind her. As Anne and Audrey entered the hall, they saw several guests scrambling toward the exits, alarm and confusion written across their faces. Anne’s heart thudded as her eyes landed on the shattered remains of the grand chandelier. Jagged pieces of glass were scattered all over the floor. In the middle of the wreckage, Tania was curled up on the ground, clutching her stomach with both arms. A dark red stain had spread across the front of her gown, and her face was twisted in pain. Denis was on the floor beside her, cradling her. His voice thundered through the hall. "How could something like this happen? Where is the event planner?" Tania’s pale lips moved in a broken whisper. "Save the baby..." "I’ve already called for the doctor," Denis murmured, his tone softening as he brushed the hair from her face, worry clouding his eyes. Before Anne could process it all, she felt herself pulled into a warm, familiar embrace. "I was so worried," Augustine said. "God, the chandelier crashed right above them. If Denis hadn’t reacted in time, Tania would have been severely injured." Anne didn’t return his hug. Instead, she looked at him sharply, suspicion rising like bile. Something wasn’t right. The light man had lured her into that tool room, then locked her up... and now this dramatic accident? It was too well-timed to be a chance. "Where were you?" he asked, pulling back slightly. "I have been looking for you." "You are asking where I’ve been? Do you even know where I was?" Anne demanded with a tinge of anger in her voice. "Do you know what I just went through?"

Chapter 173: The chaos at the party (Part 1)

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