CHAPTER 6

"WE KNOW SHE’S HERE."

Luciano’s jaw tightened into a hard line, and an irritated curse escaped Marco’s lips as I stood frozen, my gaze fixed on the chilling words scrawled on the wall before us. This was no longer a mere hearsay or figment of our imaginations; it was a stark reality laid bare. Matteo was coming for me, and the fear gnawing at my insides told me that I might not emerge from this unscathed.

“Are you just going to stand there? Get inside your room and lock the damn door!” His voice was a low growl, filled with urgency and frustration. Panic surged through me, propelling me toward the staircase. My feet pounded against the wooden steps, the sound echoing in my ears, and my heart raced uncontrollably. What was Matteo doing here? The thought sent shivers down my spine.

Reaching my door, I kicked it open with a forceful swing rather than gently pushing it ajar. The heat of adrenaline coursed through my veins, amplifying the tension in the air. I slammed the door shut with a resounding thud, leaning heavily against it as I pressed my back against the wood. My hand scrambled for the bolt, and with a firm click, I secured the door before sinking down onto the floor, my breath coming in quick, uneven gasps.

“Marco, secure all the entrances! If they’ve managed to make this kind of threat, someone must have let them in." Luciano's voice echoed ominously through the dimly lit corridors of the building, reverberating against the walls. The unease settled deeper within me as I considered the betrayal lurking in the shadows. Who could have possibly betrayed us?

A sudden thought surged through my mind, jolting me into action. I quickly stood up and hurried to the wardrobe, flinging open its creaking doors. With my hand planted firmly on my hip, I surveyed the chaotic jumble of clothing and accessories hanging inside. My heart sank as I realized the absence of a crucial item: no black mask glimmered amid the fabric, nor anything that might provide me with a sense of security.

A cold shiver ran down my spine, gripping me with an icy apprehension as I stumbled back, lost in a whirlwind of uncertainty about my next move. The urgency of my situation began to weigh heavily on me; I couldn’t just stand idly by, waiting for something to happen.

Just then, I felt a slight movement beneath my foot, pulling me from my spiral of contemplation. I paused, my breath catching in my throat as I attempted to gather my thoughts and decide my next course of action.

What on earth is lurking beneath that rug? Curiosity getting the better of me, I crouched down and gently tapped the ground, only to feel the fabric twitch slightly under my fingers. Someone—or something—was pushing up from underneath it.

My heart pounded in my chest as I sprang upright, scanning the room with wide, frantic eyes. I needed to block this mysterious entrance before whatever it was decided to come out. Adrenaline surged through me as I rushed to my cupboard. My fingers gripped the edges tightly as I yanked it open with a loud creak. The sound reverberated off the walls as I pulled it across the floor, straining to position it over the spot where the rug seemed to bulge ominously. But before I could reach my goal, the rug suddenly lifted into the air, revealing a dark void below.

Caught off guard, my breath hitched and my eyes widened in disbelief. Someone had come up from the depths! Panic set in as I lunged for the door, fumble-locking the handle in a frantic bid for escape, but a stark realization hit me—I had locked it before. Just as I turned back towards the noise, my blood ran cold. Standing there in my dimly lit room was a shadowy figure clad entirely in black: a fitted turtleneck and slim trousers, both absorbing the minimal light, and a black mask obscuring any hint of identity.

"Who the hell are you?" I demanded, my voice quaking as fear wrapped around me like a vise. The figure remained eerily still, their presence heavy in the air. I pressed my back against the door, heart racing faster than a drumbeat in my ears. "Don’t come any closer, please," I urged, my tone shaky as I felt cold sweat trickling down my spine.

“You're coming with me," the intruder replied, his voice low and calm, almost unnervingly so, as he took a step closer to my bed. I could sense the chilling threat in those words, amplifying my sense of dread as I stood frozen, trying to comprehend the unfolding nightmare.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I declared fiercely, a sudden surge of courage igniting within me. My heart raced as I felt the weight of my own conviction; it was as if a fire had been lit inside my chest. Luciano’s cold, cutting words echoed in my mind, steadily dismantling any lingering doubts.

“If you want to survive in this unforgiving place, you have to fight for yourself and reclaim what’s yours,” he had said, his voice low and threatening. That chilling statement resonated deeply within me, serving as an unexpected wellspring of strength and determination. Each word became a mantra, propelling me to embrace my own power and resilience in the face of adversity.

"You think you can stress me out?" the guy sneered, taking a step closer. I stood firm, my fist clenched. "If you take one more step, I'll—" My threat was cut short as a sharp pain shot through my body, and I felt a sudden weakness wash over me. My vision blurred, and everything started to spin.

As the intruder advanced, each step he took was deliberate and poised, his movements reminiscent of a predator stalking its prey. My breath hitched, lodged in my throat, as the gravity of the moment settled over me like a suffocating blanket. My mind raced with a chaotic swirl of thoughts—fear and adrenaline intertwined, sending electric pulses through my veins. My heart hammered against my ribcage like a relentless drum, each thud a stark reminder of my precarious situation.

“Don’t make this difficult,” he said, his voice an unnervingly calm murmur that contrasted sharply with the turmoil brewing inside me. “And try to minimize the chatter.”

I swallowed hard, my throat parched and tight. Gathering my courage, I managed to find my voice, though it trembled and emerged as little more than a breathy whisper.

“What’s... what do you want?” I stuttered, struggling to keep my tone from betraying my rising panic.