Chapter 7

I scanned the room, my heart tightening every time I thought about that waiter. Something about him wasn't right.

He'd seemed too calm. Too rehearsed. Like he was hiding something bad.

I turned slowly, pretending to watch the violinist, but my gaze drifted toward the far side of the ballroom, where a dim hallway opened just beyond the buffet tables. My breath caught when I spotted him.

Damien.

He stood at the end of the hallway, his dark eyes locked on me. Those eyes... they were cold, like a siren's warning.

I squinted, trying to make sure it was really him. His slow nod told me he wanted to say something.

What does he want?

I forced myself to stay calm and turned back to Dante.

I looked at his eyes. "Excuse me," I said, managing a small smile. "I need to use the restroom."

Dante's eyes narrowed. "It's too dangerous, I know you saw that," he warned quietly with a worried look.

I can't stay here. "I really need to," I said firmly.

He hesitated, then nodded. "I'll send some guard to follow you."

I gave a small nod and started walking away, my steps steady. But once I was far enough, I broke into a sprint down the hallway toward Damien.

As I reached the hallway where I last saw Damien, I was catching my breath and leaned to the wall beside me. When I felt okay, I fixed my posture and dress, I started walking normally towards it then a hand clamped down on my wrist, steady but urgent. Before I could react, I was yanked sideways into a cramped maintenance room. The door slammed shut behind me with a sharp thud. Dust particles hung in the stale air, mingling with the sharp tang of old cleaner. The dim bulb that's flickering was the only source of light here.

"What the—" I gasped, coughing, twisting to break free, but the grip held firm.

"Sera."

My heart thudded so hard I thought it might burst through my chest. That voice, smooth, low, and cold, was nothing like Dante's.

Damien.

He stepped back just enough for me to see his face. He looked... polished. Almost too calm for someone who had just ambushed me.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed, my pulse still racing.

"Saving you," he said simply.

I froze.

"Saving me?" I echoed, narrowing my eyes. "From what?"

He looked me over, his expression unreadable. "From a man who smiles like he owns you."

What? Is it Dante?

"Don't talk about him like that."

A humorless smile tugged at his lips. "I don't need to talk about him. I know exactly who Dante Moretti is. Do you?"

I stiffened, but I didn't answer.

Because no matter how much I wanted to deny it, that question had been haunting me since the moment I signed that contract.

Damien took a slow step forward, but this time, I didn't back away.

"I've been watching," he continued. "He's using you, Sera. He's dressing you up, showing you off... but he's hiding things. Big things. Things that involve your family."

My breath caught.

My spine stiffened, and the words tumbled out sharper than I intended. "What do you know about my family?" Heat surged up my neck, flushing my skin as anger curled tight in my chest. I didn't care if it showed. Not this time. Not when he spoke like he knew pieces of my past I didn't.

He didn't answer right away. His gaze softened just slightly, enough to feel like a shift in temperature.

"Let's just say I knew your brother."

My blood went cold.

My fists clenching at my sides. "You're. Lying." Each word dropped from my mouth like lead, deliberate and cold. My voice didn't shake, but inside, everything twisted. I wanted to believe he was wrong, I needed him to be.

"I'm not." His voice was too calm. Too sure. "He came to me for help. Before he vanished. Before he ended up... wherever he is now."

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My thoughts were running too fast. 

Luca. This man. Dante.

I didn't know who to trust anymore.

Before I could demand more, Damien leaned in close, too close.

"Ask yourself one thing, Sera..." he whispered, voice low and cutting like the edge of a blade. "Has Dante ever told you the truth? Or just enough to keep you quiet?" He leaned back slightly, the distance only making his words echo louder in my head. The flickering overhead light cast shifting shadows across his face, but not enough to hide the curl of his lips.

He was smirking, like he knew something I didn't. Like he was daring me to admit it.

"Did you do something to my brother?" The words tumbled out, tight in my throat, almost breaking like a thread pulled too hard. I hated how my voice shook, small, like some desperate plea. Like a lost girl searching for scraps of hope.

Damien tilted his head, that damn smirk deepening like he enjoyed watching me unravel.

"I know nothing about your brother, sweetheart," he said smoothly, voice dipping into something too casual, too amused.

His hand moved before I could stop it. Just the tip of his index finger, brushing along the curve of my cheek like I was a glass doll he was testing for cracks.

I slapped it away, hard.

His laugh came instantly, soft and low, like he found my anger charming.

Then his gaze shifted, colder now. Calculated.

"Your brother came to me before he disappeared."

That stopped everything.

My breath hitched. I blinked, staring at him, trying to make sense of it.

My brows pulled together. 

He's lying. He has to be lying.

But the way he said it... the way his eyes stayed locked on mine.

He knows something.

"He—" Damien started, but then—

Bang!

The gunshots tore through the hallway outside.

My blood turned to ice.

Damien's expression didn't even flinch.

"Find Dante. Now!" Damien's calm vanished. He shoved the door open and disappeared into the hallway, bolting toward the fire exit.

But I couldn't move. Not at first.

My body felt too light and too heavy at once. My chest constricted, tight and panicked like I couldn't breathe right. My hands shook as I reached for the doorframe to steady myself.

This is real. This is happening. Those were gunshots.

Another pop echoed. Then screaming.

Move, Sera. Move!

I staggered out of the maintenance room, turning in the opposite direction of Damien, my heels clicking hard against the marble as I broke into a full run.

The hallway erupted into chaos.

"CODE RED, get the exits locked down!" a guard barked into a comm near the stairwell.

Glass shattered behind me, a chandelier, maybe, and a woman's shriek sliced through the corridor. "Marco! Marco, where are you?!" She shouted.

I didn't look back.

The ballroom doors were dead ahead, but the closer I got, the worse the noise became. People shouting. Feet pounding. The distant crack of another shot. Then two.

I burst through the ballroom doors, and the scene shattered me.

Smoke.

Screams.

A second chandelier hung tilted, wires sparking near the ceiling. Tables overturned. Drinks spilled. Blood on the floor. A man lay facedown beside the grand piano.

People were running in every direction, gowns dragging, shoes kicked off, faces streaked with terror.

I froze.

"Dante!" My voice was barely above the noise. "Dante!"

My throat squeezed shut. 

I can't breathe. No, not today.

I pushed forward, every step unsteady.

Gunfire cracked again, closer, and I ducked. My hand flew to my chest as if I could hold my heart still.

Then—

A sharp sound. Too close.

And I felt it.

A whisper of air past my cheek. The snap of something hitting the column inches beside me.

I turned my head—

And saw the gun pointed straight at me.

Not randomly. Not carelessly.

At me.

The man holding it was young. Expressionless. Arm steady.

He's aiming for me. Me!

My mouth opened, but no sound came.

Then—

BANG!

I didn't know someone wants me dead.