Chapter 5 - A Cramp in the Dark
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The storm that rolled in that night knocked the power out across the Bedford estate for ten terrifying minutes. The backup generators hummed to life, casting the massive house in a dim, eerie glow.
Damian lay in his medical bed, staring at the ceiling. Vivian had chosen to sleep in a guest suite on the opposite wing of the house, claiming the hum of his medical equipment disturbed her rest. He was entirely alone.
Around 2:00 AM, a spasm hit his right thigh with such violent force that he gasped out loud, his back arching off the mattress. The pain was blinding, a sharp, stabbing agony that radiated down to his toes.
He needed to stand. He needed to stretch the muscle, but if the night guards patrolling the hallway looked through the crack in the door and saw him standing, the entire ruse would be destroyed.
He reached for the call button clipped to his pillow and pressed it once.
Two minutes later, the heavy door opened softly. It wasn't one of the armed guards. It was Maya. She wore a simple gray robe over her uniform, her hair tied back in a messy knot.
"Sir?" she whispered, stepping into the dim room.
"My leg," Damian gritted out through clenched teeth, sweat pouring down his face. "It’s locking up."
Maya moved quickly. She didn't turn on the overhead lights. She rushed to the side of the bed, pulling back the heavy duvet. His right leg was rigid, the muscles visibly jumping under his skin.
"You need to stand," Maya said softly, her hands hovering over his thigh.
"I can't," Damian hissed, his eyes darting to the hallway door. "The cameras. The guards."
"The cameras in this wing are on a thirty-second loop while the generators reset," Maya informed him, her voice steady and calm. "I timed them yesterday. And the guards are at the end of the hall drinking coffee."
Damian stared at her, stunned by her meticulous observation.
"I will block the door," Maya said, stepping backward and planting her small frame directly against the wooden door, shielding his body from the small viewing window. "Stand up, Mr. Russo. Stretch your leg."
May you like
Damian didn't hesitate. He threw his legs over the side of the bed, his bare feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. He stood up to his full, towering height, letting out a low, ragged groan of relief as the contracted muscles finally elongated.
He stood in the dark, a king reclaiming his stature, while the quiet maid guarded his throne.
