Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

How the fuck did I wind up here?

It was a good question, one I couldn’t find out for myself. I held the letter in my hands, looking down at it to make sure I was where the letter directed me to go, before looking up at the mansion– almost a palace, really– before me.

This can’t be right. Can it? I found myself walking towards the great oaken doors as I looked down at the letter. Maybe someone here can point me in the right direction…

I grabbed one of the brass knockers and rapped it against the door.

No response.

Maybe this is the wrong place.

I turned and began to walk away before hearing the door creak open. Looking back, I noticed someone that I assumed was wait-staff at the eaves of the door, dressed in a fine suit.

“May I help you?”

Oh, thank God. “Yeah, actually. I was wondering if you could give me directions?”

“And where may you be heading, young man?”

I listed off the address written on the letter and showed it to the man.

“Ah, yes. This is the right place,” he said. “The master has been waiting patiently for you. If I may lead you to him?”

Oh, for fuck sake. “Yeah. Sure, I guess.” I smiled wanly, a pit in my stomach as I entered. The door shut behind the waiter and I with a sense of finality that made that pit in my stomach sink even lower. I was led through the foyer, down a long hall and to a door that was slightly ajar. The waiter knocked softly on the door.

“Sire?” he called softly. “Your esteemed guest has arrived.”

A beat of silence. A shift as the master of the house rose. The sound of dress shoes stepping on the hardwood floor.

The door opened.

He was an older man, to be sure– his gray hair and wizened face told me that much– but he was built in such a way that, were it not for his face, I could have easily mistaken him for a man much younger. He was sharply dressed in bright red, which stood out against his white undershirt and olive complexion, the cravat around his neck doing well to compliment his sharp features. His eyes, in particular, stood out– a bright blue, almost unnaturally so, and almost hypnotic to look at.

I, instead, focused on his nose.

“Ah,” he said, a smile on his face, “you must be Lucien. I’m terribly sorry I didn’t come to greet you myself.” He offered a bow before offering his hand. “Please, call me JP. Everyone does.”

I stared down at his hand for what felt like eternity– something about him gave me chills that I didn’t much like– but I shook his hand, regardless. His grip was firm, but gentle– the same handshake a boss would give a potential employee.

I don’t like this already.

“Come,” he said, stepping aside and holding the door open for me. “Make yourself as comfortable as you like, Lucien. If you wish to take off your coat, you may.”

I tried my best to hide my unease with a smile. “Sure. Thanks.” An awkward pause before I continued my thoughts. “For, uh, inviting me here.”

“No need to thank me.” JP closed the door behind us, in such a way that the sound of the door’s latch clicking was the only one it made. “You, inevitably, brought yourself here of your own accord. That, alone, is worthy of my time.”

But why me? I wanted to ask. I took a seat in a leather chair, which was– to my amazement– remarkably comfortable, and situated in such a way that the roaring fireplace wasn’t too close, nor too far from where I was seated. I took note of a chessboard that was situated in front of where JP, no doubt, was sitting, the pieces arranged in such a way that it looked like he was mid-game with someone– perhaps himself– before I had arrived. “So, JP… uh… about that letter…”

“You’ll have to forgive the vagueness and anonymity of it.” He opened a decanter of what looked like whiskey and poured himself a small amount. “I didn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands.”

My blood ran cold, my mind racing with what the implications could be. “The… the wrong hands?”

“Of course.” He looked back at me. “Do you drink, Lucien?”

“Not whiskey.”

“I have wine, if you prefer that.”

I nodded. “Yeah. That works for me.” Hopefully it’ll calm my nerves a little.

“Wonderful.” He took a wine glass from a rack and a bottle of wine from a shelf, his movements fluid. “I have many enemies, Lucien– far more than I even care to admit– and, quite frankly, I don’t want them at my doorstep.” He poured the wine, a thoughtful look on his face. “It’d be such a pain for the staff to have to clean up my messes more than they need to.”

“Uh… huh…”

He calmly paced over to me, handing me the wine glass. “There’s no need for such tension,” he said softly. “Try not to view me as you would either of your parents or as one of your peers.”

I almost dropped the glass when he said that, my blood running even colder than before as he took his seat across from me. “I– excuse me?”

“I did a little research on you, Lucien. Just enough to know whether or not you can be trusted.” The way he talked about it was like anyone else talking about the weather or what they had for breakfast that morning. “Your history is rather intriguing. ”

I couldn’t stop my brows from furrowing slightly. “And something I’d prefer not to discuss,” I said, my voice flat.

“Of course.” JP smiled, leaning back in his chair. “Your comfort is as important as anything else,” he said, before taking a sip of his drink.

Thank God. I let out a faint sigh, feeling my shoulders droop slightly. “What did you invite me here for, anyways?”

“What did I invite you here for?” he echoed. “My, that must be quite the burning question for you.” He leaned forward again, looking me in the eye– but at that point, I couldn’t look away, even if I wanted to. “I invited you here, Lucien, so that I may offer you a job at my side.”

“A job ? Doing what, exactly?” I sipped my wine, biting back an utterance of satisfaction– this was probably the best wine I had ever tasted, and likely will ever taste.

“One that puts your inquisitive nature and investigative skills to good use,” came the reply– not exactly what I wanted to hear, nor what I anticipated. “One that may be dangerous for most, but one that you can most assuredly handle.”

“I… I don’t think I quite understand what you’re saying, JP.” My voice was wrought with concern for my well-being.

“And I think you’re lying, Lucien.” His voice dropped low, dangerously so. “I think you know exactly what I’m saying– whether you care to admit it or not.”

I sat in silence, trying to find something– anything– to say to shake him off. “I…” I looked down at my wine glass. “I think… I need a moment. To consider it.”

“Take your time,” he said, his voice still low, but nowhere near as threatening as it was before. “We have all the time in the world.”

And think I did. This guy knew more about me than I wanted– I had no doubt that he also knew about my martial arts background. He also seemed to know about my history and my connections, about my need to explore and investigate everything, about my skill sets– especially those he finds valuable to whatever he has in mind. But everything about the situation I was in was a massive red flag, from the means of being invited here to the very conversation we were having.

JP, himself, was a red flag, too. Everything about him screamed “don’t trust him” from the moment I saw him, and I couldn’t put my finger on why… and I hated it.

I needed to know more about him.

It’s just a matter of getting into his head.

I could hear some gentle noises as I was thinking things over– the dull roar of the fireplace, my heart beating in my ears, the muffled thud of chess pieces on the board, and outside the door, I could hear footsteps, the idle chatter of the staff, and meowing.

Wait.

Meowing?

JP rose, slightly opening the door at the sound. In walked a very peculiar cat– stark white, with a long coat and proportions that seemed almost too long for a normal cat to have. It looked up at me with large, almost alien eyes, as if to judge me, whilst JP closed the door and took his seat.

“Don’t mind Cybele,” JP said, seeming in much better spirits now that the cat had joined us. “She’s a little… how should I say, picky when it comes to people she doesn’t know.”

As if to contradict what he had just said, Cybele hopped up onto my chair, crawled into my lap, layed down, and began purring.

“Though it seems as though she quite likes you,” JP chuckled.

“Is that good?” I asked, finally breaking my silence– and my thoughts.

“Indeed it is!” He took another sip of whiskey. “I take it as a sign that you, Lucien, can be trusted, even with my deepest secrets.”

“Then I suppose that’s good, at least.” I began petting Cybele with my free hand, causing her to purr even louder. “Good girl,” I whispered to her.

JP smiled warmly, leaning back. “If I may make another proposal, Lucien?”

“Hmm?” I sipped my wine as he mentioned to the chessboard in front of us.

“Do you play chess, perchance?”

“...not well, ” I admitted. “Why?”

“I propose we play a game. Just one. With a catch, of course.”

“...and what’s the catch?”

JP’s smile broadened. “Every time one of us loses a piece to the other,” he explained, “we have to offer a small fact about ourselves. Does that sound fair? I find it to be a fun way to get to know someone more… intimately. ”

He’s gonna steamroll me, I thought, I can feel it.

After a moment, I nodded. “Alright. Deal.”

“Excellent.” He gestured to me. “You move first.”

I thought carefully, before moving the first pawn.

The game began.

I couldn’t help watching him as the game wore on, his thoughtful expression and the way he carefully moved his hand over the pieces before moving them seemed to etch themselves in my memory. It didn’t take him terribly long to take out the first piece– one of my pawns.

Fuck.

“I was a rebellious kid,” I stated. “I was the kind to ask too many questions in class because I knew I wasn’t getting the whole story.”

“Not the worst trait to have, if I may be honest,” JP said with a smile.

A couple of moves later, he took out another one of my pawns.

“I used to not like chicken as a food, until I learned to cook it properly.”

I don’t know how, but the next move, I managed to take one of his pawns, causing him to raise his brows slightly.

“I don’t like to sleep as much as a man my age should,” he admitted. “My dreams are plagued with nightmares.”

“That’s gotta suck,” I replied.

A few more moves. More pieces of mine were taken. More facts about myself, explained.

I was playing against a master. I was well out of my league, and I knew it.

It didn’t take him very long to declare “ Shah mat .”

“The hell does that mean?”

“It’s where the word ‘checkmate’ comes from, Lucien,” he explained simply. “And now, you must divulge to me a secret.”

My brows furrowed again. “That wasn’t a part of the deal.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh. “How forgetful at times, I am. Not everyone is privy to the rules I have set with this game.” He smiled softly. “So, Lucien. What secret shall you tell me? I won’t utter a word of it to anyone.”

I thought long and hard about what to tell him. I finished my wine. “My mother,” I all but whispered, “abused my sister and I horribly. She would beat us, scream at us, withhold essentials deliberately, take what money we earned and spend it on cheap booze and more toys for her dogs. She never wanted us; she just wanted more dogs.”

Silence.

JP nodded, his face seeming grim. “You will have your comeuppance, Lucien. One way or another. I promise that much.”

“...if I work for you, right? That’s the caveat, isn’t it?”

“Of course.”

“...I need more time to think about it.”

“Think about it as long as you must.” JP leaned back again, resting his head on his hand. “You’re more than welcome to stay in one of the guest rooms in the meanwhile.”

Chapter Text

There came a knock on the door the next morning, causing me to groan in mild distress and crack open my eyes.

“Go away, ” I grumbled, rolling onto my side to try to reclaim a modicum of comfort.

A servant opened the door, peeking in. “Breakfast will be ready soon, Sir Lucien.”

Sir Lucien? Really? I groaned again, slowly rising to a sit. “Fuck.” I looked over at the analog clock on the wall– 8:45. Early, for me. “Eugh… fine. At least lemme get cleaned up first.”

“I’ll lead you to the dining hall when you’re ready.”

I sighed as I rose, stretched, got on with my morning routine. Brushing my teeth could wait for after breakfast, but my hair looked like a bird’s nest– I couldn’t let anyone see me like this. I combed my hair back down to where it looked at least presentable before washing my face, both in an attempt to wake myself up and to make myself look presentable.

Not that it’d much matter, since I’m not exactly fully functioning first thing in the morning.

I made my way to the door and gestured towards the right side of the hallway. “Lead on.”

“...sir. That’s the wrong way,” the servant said, remaining as professional as he could.

“...ah.”

—

The dining hall was every bit as lavish as the rest of the mansion was– on the carved wooden walls were various paintings done in a Romantic style, with smaller marble statues on plinths beneath them. The dining table was long– very long– the surface of which looked like it was made from a single slab of redwood. Along the table were brass candelabras, each with five arms– four of which bloomed out the middle, with the central arm spiraling upwards a good half-foot over the other arms. The chairs weren’t hard to look at, either– the main structures were, like the walls of the dining room, intricately carved, and made of the same kind of wood as the table, their backs and seats lined with maroon crushed velvet.

I can only imagine what dinner parties would be like here, I thought, almost hearing the chatter of dozens of people and the clattering of silverware against porcelain in my head as I did so. The servant that had led me here guided me to a seat by the head of the table, pulling out the chair so I could sit. I knew JP would sit at the head of the table, but I wasn’t sure why I was seated on the right-hand side of the table. The sun shone bright through the window on the opposite wall, offering me a view of the courtyard from within the mansion. How could I have not noticed the carefully-tended garden before, the narcissus flowers and crocuses blooming from the warming earth, the neatly-trimmed rose bushes and juniper trees? Was I so focused on finding where to go, that I didn’t take the time to take in my surroundings?

JP’s voice from the doorway– “Good morning, Lucien” – pulled me out of my thoughts and, admittedly, spooked me.

“Morning,” I responded, trying to play off my fright and previous reverie.

It seemed to pay off, if the smile on his face was any indication. “I trust you slept well?” he inquired, taking his seat– indeed, at the head of the table. Even in what I assumed was his sleepwear, he still managed to look as dapper as when I had first met him.

“Best sleep I’ve had in a while, if I can be honest. You really spared no expenses when you got this place, didn’t you?”

“Why would I?” He chuckled to himself. “I have more wealth than I know what to do with. It’s only fair that I make this place feel like a second home to any visitors.”

“How generous of you.” I bit my tongue, trying not to come across as rude by asking him how he accrued such wealth.

“I do my best, Lucien. And I’m certain you do the same.” A pair of maids came to our end of the table– one with a larger tray containing various smaller foods, such as scones, croissants, tarts, and cookies, and the other with a somewhat smaller tray with a teapot, a pair of teacups, a small jug of cream, a bowl of sugar cubes and a jar of honey. They both set the items between JP and I, arranging them carefully. JP nodded and uttered a soft “thank you” to the both of them before they almost scurried away. “You seem very resourceful, from what I’ve learned about you just last night, and even before then.”

“You could say that, yeah.” I watched carefully as JP poured us both a cup of tea, half-suspecting him to try something that would break his affable facade.

I could feel his gaze on me as I watched him; it almost sent an unpleasant tingle down my spine.

“There’s no need to suspect treachery from me,” he said calmly. “We’re all friends here, are we not?”

How the fuck– “I… guess so,” I said, before looking down at my teacup. It was a black tea– some sort of Earl Grey, from what I could smell– but for some reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong with this man. I took hold of the teacup’s handle, taking another whiff of the tea. It smelled heavenly– as though I were experiencing it for the first time, all over again.

I took a cautious sip, both as a precaution against the temperature of it and in case there was something in it. The taste was fine– better than fine, it was delicious, even straight– but nothing that set off any alarm bells in my head.

“Wonderful, isn’t it?” He was beaming with a sense of pride. “The cornflowers and lavender are grown and dried here; the tea leaves are my own cultivar, grown in the Sichuan region of China.” He sipped from his own cup, pausing for a moment as if to think on the taste. “Though the kitchen staff always seems to over-steep the leaves,” he finally added, before taking the honey from the table. “I may have to do it myself, one of these days– even if only for you to enjoy it as it’s meant to be tasted.”

I looked at him, both bewildered and confused. “You mean the tea I just tasted– the best tea I’ve had in my life– isn’t even brewed properly ?”

“Unfortunately.” JP added a spoonful of honey to his tea, stirring it. “But, again, I promise you, I will brew it for you the way it’s meant to be done. It’s less bitter when it is.”

I looked back down at my cup, considering. I blindly reached for the cream, almost recoiling away when I felt the warmth of his hand radiating over my own.

“Sorry,” I muttered without a thought.

“There’s no need to apologize, Lucien,” he replied. I could almost hear the smile in his voice. “There’s also no need for caution here; you are safe, and you are wanted here.” I heard the jug gently clatter against the table as he set it down. “Go on, then.”

“Yes, sir,” I again muttered without a thought– by the time I had caught myself, it was too late to take back what I said.

“ Sir, yet!” JP let out a hearty laugh– another experience that etched itself into memory. I could feel my face heat up as I poured a small amount of cream into my tea. “If I didn’t know you any better, I would say you’ve warmed up to me!”

I felt a deep sense of embarrassment at myself, but at the same time, seeing him be so jovial seemed to make me feel slightly more at-ease.

Slightly.

“Sometimes,” I finally said, “I say things without thinking.”

“I can forgive you for that, Lucien.” He sipped his tea, again considering the taste, and seemed content with his additions. “You have much you need to unlearn.”

“Yeah.” I plopped in a sugar cube, making sure to stir my tea clockwise. “No kidding.” I sipped again– oh, this is perfect. I had to keep myself from guzzling down the rest, especially in the company of one as sophisticated as JP.

“Have you considered our agreement?” he asked, taking a scone from the platter.

I hesitated. I had thought about it long into the night, but came up with more questions than answers. And something told me the last thing I wanted to do is ask too many questions and piss him off.

“You have, haven’t you?” JP didn’t seem outwardly angry, but I still wanted to tread with caution.

“...yes.” I cleared my throat, taking a tart for myself. “I have. I still don’t know the exact nature of this… agreement, so I can’t necessarily make a decision yet.”

“Of course.” Again, no sign that I had stepped on his toes. “You said it yourself, Lucien– you always have wanted the full story, even as a child in school. A wise mindset to have, indeed.”

“So… what is the full story?” I bit into the tart. The taste reminded me of a raspberry danish, a favorite of mine growing up, but somehow even better. It took everything in my power not to let out a hint of how this tart made me feel so nostalgic.

“Unfortunately, Lucien, I cannot tell you. Not here.” A curious look crossed his face.

“ What? ” I nearly choked on the bite of tart I had taken, forcing it down with a loud gulp.

“Not with so many ears listening and mouths eager to gossip.”

Oh, I do not like where this is going. “There has to be some way to clue me in on what you have in mind,” I replied. “We could, I dunno, write in a secret code or cant, you could whisper it to me behind closed doors, something.”

“I have an idea.” He let out an amused almost-scoff, before biting into his scone.

Chapter Text

Sitting immediately next to JP was, by far, the last thing I wanted to do– but there I sat, in the back of a car with him. I tried to look out the window, rather than at him– I just wanted to forget who I was in the company of for the time we were traveling. I think he could tell I was uncomfortable, too, since he hadn’t said a word since we got in the car. Thank God.

We arrived in some sort of forest, the car coming to a stop about a mile in. JP suddenly opening the door jolted me out of my stupor, before the realization hit me: This is our stop. I looked over to where he had been sitting, the door still open, his hand extended towards me.

“Come, Lucien,” he said softly.

Without thinking, I scooted from my seat and towards him, taking his hand as I got out of the car. His soft smile told me I had done what was anticipated and expected of me. I shut the door behind me, looking back at the driver.

“It would be wise if you stayed here,” JP told the driver, his voice cold. “You don’t want to do something you’ll regret.” He paused, before turning away from the car and beginning towards a path within the forest. “Come along, Lucien. There’s still a way to go before we reach our destination.”

God damn it. I hastened my steps until I was, at minimum, right behind him.

—

By the time we had reached the summit overlook, I was exhausted. It was an hour deep into the forest, and what felt like an eternity climbing steep stairs. I paused to catch my breath as JP walked ahead, roughly to the center of the outlook, seeming to make sure his cane never once touched the stones beneath him.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he called back, looking over his shoulder.

“Yeah… yeah,” I huffed, taking a moment before finally joining him.

In one fluid movement, he adjusted the grip on his cane so that he was grabbing the brass head, lifted it up, and tapped the ground with the end.

The absolute worst feeling of dread I had ever felt seemed to flow from the tip of the cane to the rest of the overlook in a radial wave, only visible as a dark-violet barrier that obscured the light from the sun and crackled with malefic energy. Every part of me wanted to turn around and flee, to call this whole thing off, to just go home, but I knew I couldn’t.

That was one of JP’s secrets– one that he would never allow a living soul to tell about.

Seemingly unphased by the malefic barrier he had created, JP paced forward, each tap of his cane against the ground causing energy to crackle from it. He sat on the bench at the front of the overlook, looking down at the valley below. I didn’t need a cue to join him– no matter how much I wished to run– but my hesitance was enough to make him look back at me until I joined him on the bench.

“I’m sure you have some questions,” he said simply.

I nodded, finding words hard to come by.

“I understand you must be feeling fear right now.” He looked forward, stoic. “I can assure you, Lucien, that this is only for the sake of our privacy. Nothing can come in; nothing can leave.” He then looked at me, his eyes both assuring and cold all at once. “And that includes any conversations we may have. Understood?”

I nodded again, the pit in my stomach seeming to grow.

“Excellent,” he said with a nod, before looking forward again. “You see, Lucien, my intentions in bringing you under my wing were– intentionally– for you to gather intelligence for me. Your skill set matched up quite nicely for the job, you see. Though…” JP seemed contemplative for a moment. “Now that I have gotten a grasp of who you truly are, perhaps you are better suited elsewhere.”

I knew it, I thought. I knew something sketchy was afoot.

“By my side would be preferable,” he finished.

I, briefly, relaxed, before I had processed what was said– I then bolted upright, almost pulling a muscle with how fast I had turned to look at him. “What the hell do you mean by that?! ” I couldn’t help but snap.

He raised a hand, as if to shush me. “I don’t mean to offend, Lucien. But you see, I am a man that takes many precautions when it comes to those who may– and do– work under me.” He folded his hand back over the other on the head of his cane. “I do intend to have you on my payroll, but more or less as… a confidant. Someone I know I can trust.”

“And you trust me?”

“More or less, yes.” He looked at me with a calm smile. “Is that an issue?”

“I…” I frowned. “No, but…”

“Then what issue do you take with such a trusted position?”

I frowned deeper as I thought, looking ahead– down into the valley below. There was a fresh blanket of snow on the ground down there, and a rather sizable town a few miles out. I had to wonder what sway JP had over them, if any– this place seemed to be one he frequented.

Why does he trust me? I thought, unable to put my finger on why at the moment. Is it because I’m weaker than him? Did it have something to do with his cat? Was it because of how I was at breakfast this morning? How we interacted last night, over the chess game?

So many questions, but no answers.

“I guess I don’t have any,” I finally said. “I just… don’t get it. ”

“You’ll know in time, Lucien,” JP replied, “you’ll know in time.”

That’s not reassuring. “Then… if you don’t mind my asking, what…”

“Hm? Oh. The barrier.” He looked ahead again. “That is my secret to keep until I know, fully, that you are to be trusted. For now, though, I cannot tell you.”

I hate the feeling that it gives me, I almost said. It’s the same feeling I have when I have a nightmare.

As if he knew what I was thinking, and knew I couldn’t back out now, he gave another hard tap on the ground. The barrier shattered outward in jagged shards, suspended in the air as the shards disintegrated and dissipated into the wind like embers. The all-consuming feeling of dread was gone, though traces of it remained buried within my psyche.

I’m in way too deep now, I thought, trying to keep my eyes ahead.

“Let us rest now, Lucien,” JP said calmly, “and speak of more pleasant things. It’s a long way back; best to savor the view while we can.”

Chapter Text

Lucien wanted, more than anything else, to get to the bottom of what JP’s power was. He was certain that he would at least get a hint of what it was in the study– the first room of the sprawling estate that he was shown into. In all of these tomes , he thought to himself, there must be an answer.

The fireplace had long since gone out– the only light was from the lamps on the end tables. The chess set was still as it was when he and JP had their little game– the white king, flanked by a black rook, a black knight poised to take it, and a black queen staring it down from across the board, diagonally. While Lucien did admit beforehand that it had been a long time since he had played chess, even he could admit he made some stupid plays during the match, every fact that he had shared disrupting his train of thought. The room, even with that, was kept immaculately clean by the staff– not a speck of dust on any surface, nor footprints from any other person, himself included, nor cat hair could be found.

Lucien concluded that this wouldn’t make his search for answers easy… but he enjoyed the thought of a challenge to find the truth.

And thus, the search began in earnest. Starting with the far left corner of the room, Lucien thumbed through and read passages of each and every book he could, before carefully placing them back on the shelf when he found no pertinent information on what he was looking for. The topics of each book seemed to have no distinct theme per shelf; one book could be a biography of a monarch, while the next one could be about the native flora of North America, and the one after that could be a well-known piece of classical literature beloved by many, all of which had annotations and notes written in the margins– all of which were in Russian, or some other language that used the Cyrillic alphabet.

There’s no pattern, Lucien thought as he thumbed through a book on socio-economics, and quickly replaced it after he was done. What on Earth are you hiding…?

The next book was something that caught his eye. It was a leatherbound journal, with no indicators on the topic of its contents. The pages felt like Moleskine, but the aging suggested that the pages predated the founding of the company that makes it by a long shot. Looking through the contents, Lucien noted that each entry was hand-written in black ink, as if from a fountain pen, in a looser style than the annotations in previous books at first, but as each entry was penned, it became more and more similar to the written annotations, until the very end– then, it was an exact match.

Bingo.

He knew he would need time to translate every word, every page, and put everything into context, but that was what made the challenge all the more rewarding.

Let’s see if I can’t find any other journals.

Now that he knew what to look for, it made things all the simpler. All he had to do was look over each shelf for leatherbound, unmarked journals– everything else was just noise, he concluded, to obfuscate casual observers… and people like him.

But, he thought, once you know what to look for, it’s just a matter of simple pattern recognition.

On the opposite side of the study from where he had found the first journal, he found what appeared to be a second one– much newer-looking than the first, bound in black vinyl made to look like leather. He reached for it, fingers gently placing itself on the top of the spine, and pulled to remove it from the shelf.

Click.

Uh-oh.

The shelf moved forward, making Lucien step back, before slowly swinging open. Behind it was a concrete-lined stairwell, the stairs themselves looking like carved stone, the rails made of wrought iron.

“Hello…” he muttered to himself, both excited by what he had found and terrified of what could be down there. A secret laboratory, perhaps? Or something far more sinister, like a dungeon?

Only one way to find out.

Lucien descended, taking care not to let go of the journal he had found in the meanwhile. It was a long way down, the fluorescent lights below coming on as he did. There was a sense of foreboding as the stairway seemed to go deeper and deeper, further below the mansion than what he had bargained for.

The earthy scent of oak set his mind at ease once he had reached the bottom.

It’s a wine cellar, Lucien thought, his body visibly sagging with relief. Man makes his own wine. Jeez, he really does have it all…

He stepped into the cellar, looking around. It was a vast space, each wall lined with barrel after large, oaken barrel of wine, each carefully labeled with the date of their sealing. The ones closer to the entrance were older, and with each barrel Lucien passed, the dates became more and more recent.

Damn, I wish I could try some of this stuff right now.

There was a heavy steel door at the end of the cellar, unmarked, with no way to look into what was within. He hesitated, hand hovering over the heavy handle, for a moment, as he considered what could be behind it.

He opened it anyway, throwing caution to the wind.

It was very dark beyond the door, the dim fluorescents of the wine cellar revealing nothing but tile and the edge of a Persian carpet. Lucien fumbled a little against the closest wall before finding the light switch, flicking it on.

The room was hardly used, but still somewhat pristine. There were shelves stocked with all a matter of food and drink from all over the world. On the opposite wall, there was a large stove with two ovens, with burnished steel paneling. On the far end of the room, there was a large entertainment set-up, though Lucien didn’t immediately notice anything hooked up to it or any indications that it may have been used at any point.

Jesus, he even has a bunker under his mansion? What is your deal, JP…?

Lucien took two steps towards the entertainment center to see if there was anything inside of it–

“There you are.”

The sound of JP’s voice made Lucien jump, clutching the journal to his chest.

JP let out a snort that toed the line with a chuckle. “I was wondering where you had gone, Lucien.” He strode forward, until he was mere inches away from Lucien’s back. “Hmm? What have you found, I wonder…?”

“I-it’s nothing!” Lucien clutched the journal closer to his chest. “J-just a book I wanted to read, that’s all!”

JP let out the barest of sighs, extending his free hand. “If I may see this book? ”

“It’s probably one you’ve already read–”

“ Lucien. ” The commanding tone of JP’s voice made Lucien’s heart skip a beat, and compelled him to turn around and obey. He slowly handed the journal over, feeling a twinge of guilt alongside his fright.

Satisfied, JP smiled as he held the journal in his hand.

“Ah… I see. You wish to learn more about me.” He looked down at the journal, his smile unwavering, before looking at the expression on Lucien’s face. “I suppose if one is to serve me as closely as you will, it would be prudent to learn as much as one can about the one he is serving. Is that correct?”

“...yeah.” Lucien nodded sheepishly.

“Though why you would rather read about me and my past instead of, perhaps, asking me directly , is beyond me.” JP sounded stern, but not disappointed. “You would lose the nuances and emotions behind my words as they were written. Even so…” JP offered the journal back to Lucien. “I understand if you prefer the written word over the spoken one. You are– or rather, were – a journalist, after all.”

Lucien mulled over what JP could have meant behind those words for a moment, gently taking the book from his hand. He felt his fingers briefly graze over JP’s, but made no outward sign of how he felt– how it made his heart race.

“I’ll…uh…” Lucien cleared his throat as he folded the book back under his arm. “I’ll ask you any questions I may have about certain entries. Fair enough?”

JP’s smile broadened, his cheeks almost touching his eyes. “Fair enough. Come now, Lucien– let us make our leave. A safe room is no place for us at the moment. We have much to discuss, I believe…”