The Heiress's Comeback
Chapter 375: [ Volume 1] Chaper 375- Heaven or Hell?

Chapter 375: [ Volume 1] Chaper 375- Heaven or Hell?

As his thoughts spiraled, a hand tapped his shoulder. He turned to find Jay looking at him, his expression calm but firm. "Brother," Jay said, his voice steady, "let’s go down."

Ray nodded slowly, the knot in his stomach tightening as he approached the staircase. His foot hovered over the first step, but before he could move, Kai’s voice cut through the tense air. "Wait," Kai said, stepping forward. His tone was resolute, his posture protective. "Let me go first."

The brothers exchanged glances, understanding his caution but feeling the weight of the unknown pressing down on them. Kai adjusted his stance, his hand brushing against the knife he carried for emergencies. Without another word, he began descending into the darkness, the dim light from above casting his shadow into the depths below.

Ray stood at the edge of the opening, watching his brother disappear down the steps, his heart pounding louder with each second. Whatever lay below wasn’t just a hidden passage.

One by one, the brothers descended the hidden staircase. Kai led the way, his movements cautious but steady, followed by Ryan, Jay, and finally Ray, who struggled slightly with the laptop in his hands. The narrow passage didn’t allow much room to maneuver, so they formed a makeshift chain, passing the laptop carefully down from one brother to the next. It was a slow, deliberate process, but together they managed.

The staircase wasn’t extraordinarily long—about the height of climbing down two regular flights of stairs—but it felt endless in the silence. The air grew heavier the deeper they went, the passage only wide enough for two people to walk side by side. Ray couldn’t help but notice how confined it felt, like the space had been designed to discourage the transport of large items. Whoever built this had done so with precision—and secrecy—in mind.

The darkness pressed in around them, thick and suffocating. Ray instinctively wanted to summon his ability to illuminate the space, to make things easier for himself and his brothers. But Esme’s earlier warning echoed in his mind, stopping him cold. He didn’t know what would happen if he used his power here, but the risk felt too great. So, he clenched his fists and followed the dim glow of Kai’s phone screen, relying on the faint light to guide him.

As they reached the bottom step, the silence was shattered. It began subtly at first—a faint hum in the air. Then, as their feet hit the ground, a series of mechanical clicks echoed around them. Tuck. Tuck. Tuck.

It was as if the very room had sensed their arrival.

One by one, lights flickered on, spreading in a domino effect across the vast space. The hum of dormant machines awakening filled the air, accompanied by the soft whir of electricity surging through hidden circuits. The brothers froze, their breaths caught in their throats as the underground room revealed itself in all its eerie splendor.

Their house above had always been grand, its elegance undeniable. But this... this was something else entirely. The room wasn’t just large—it was cavernous, stretching far beyond the dimensions of their home’s living room upstairs. The floor was polished white marble, its surface gleaming like glass under the artificial light. The walls were lined with intricate carvings and gilded accents, reminiscent of ancient palaces described in old novels. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their delicate crystals refracting light into shimmering rainbows that danced across the room.

The space had been designed with care, its beauty overwhelming yet unsettling. The furnishings, though sparse, exuded luxury. And yet, for all its grandeur, there was something cold about the room. It felt like a monument to a forgotten era, a place suspended in time, untouched by the world above.

Jay broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "This... this doesn’t make sense. How is something this big hidden in our house?"

Ryan nodded, his eyes scanning the room. "And the decorations... it’s like it’s been preserved for decades. Maybe longer."

Ray’s gaze locked onto the modest frame, and for a moment, the rest of the room dissolved into the background. His breath hitched as he stepped closer, each movement heavy with hesitation, as if fearing that what he saw wasn’t real. His trembling fingers reached out, grazing the wooden edge of the frame. It wasn’t a photograph but a drawing—simple, raw, and heartfelt.

It was a scene of warmth and innocence, almost dreamlike in its simplicity. Three little children, barely two years old, sat on a blanket spread over lush green grass. Their tiny smiles lit up the scene, their unsteady postures betraying the fact that they had only recently learned to walk. In front of them sat a man—his hair an ethereal shade of blue, his pale complexion carrying an air of frailty but undeniable beauty. His posture was relaxed, and his expression, though subtle, was filled with quiet love.

In the background, the mother sat on the blanket, her figure radiating warmth as she gazed at the children with a smile so tender it could make anyone’s heart ache. A picnic basket sat beside her, the faint glow of sunlight filtering through the imagined trees above, casting a serene light over the entire scene.

It wasn’t a masterpiece by any technical measure. The lines were uneven, the colors slightly blotchy, as though painted by an untrained hand. But it held a soulfulness that no skill could replicate—a piece of someone’s heart frozen in time.

Ray’s throat tightened as recognition crashed into him like a tidal wave. His fingers hovered over the painted figures of the children, his chest heaving with an emotion too heavy to name. He knew this painting. It was the same one. The very same painting his mother had once shown him when he was just a curious boy.

He could still hear her laughter when he, with all the innocence of a child, had questioned her about it. "Why do you keep a picture of a painting in your wallet? Why not our real photos? You’re so weird, Mom."

He smiled faintly at the memory, though the weight of it bore down on him. Her response was as vivid now as it had been then. "You fool," she had said, her voice brimming with affection. "That is you. You, your brothers, and your father. I painted it myself, you know."