The Sin

His fingers dug into her thigh, his body vibrating with fury. His grip was bruising, punishing, and his voice came low and dangerous, spilling through gritted teeth.

“Let me fulfill your fantasy...” he spat, breath hot against her skin.

Noora writhed beneath him, panic clawing at her chest. Her limbs flailed, hands pushing desperately at his shoulders but he was too strong.

Her cries choked against his palm, smothered into nothing. She couldn't breathe through the terror. Her heart thundered as shame and fear swallowed her whole.

Tears streamed from her eyes, blurring the hallway into shadows. Her soul cracked beneath the weight of his words, of what he thought she wanted of how deeply he misunderstood her.

Then, it came.

A strangled, broken sound muffled under his hand, yet soaked in desperation. A plea that barely escaped her lips, but somehow reached him.

“…P-please... stop... please don’t do this... Luciano... I beg you... please...”

“Luc...iano..." The words weren’t clear. They were soft, half-drowned beneath his palm. But his name on her lips shattered through the storm in his head.

His body stiffened.

The haze in his eyes flickered.

And when he looked down, really looked at her eyes; his world suddenly tumbled.

His hand loosened. His legs faltered. His breathing turned uneven.

That terrifying rage that had consumed him moments ago slipped away, leaving behind only the sickening realization of what he had done... what he had almost done.

But before the shame could fully settle in his chest—

With all the strength she had left, she twisted her face and bit down…hard and desperate.

Luciano hissed in pain and the taste of copper in her mouth was unmistakable as warm blood spilled over her tongue.

He staggered back as if waking from a nightmare, clutching his bleeding hand. Horror and shock completely replacing the hunger in his stare.

“Noora…” he whispered, his breath ragged, as the monster within was exiled by all of the realization of everything crashing down on him.

His eyes again met Noora’s blood-red screaming, accusing eyes; her face, now smeared with his own blood; a cold shiver tore through his nerves. His heartbeat stalled, and for a breathless second, it felt as if the world itself had stopped.

But there was no time to process the Sin he had just committed.

From the other side of the door, Cindy’s high-pitched voice rang out.

“Lucas… did you hear something? I think someone’s outside...”

Panic overtook Noora. She shoved Luciano off with a strength that came from pure survival and scrambled back into her room, slamming the door behind her and locking it with trembling fingers.

Luciano stood frozen, his breath uneven, hand dripping crimson onto the hallway carpet.

Seconds later, the door to the room beside hers creaked open.

Lucas stepped out, shirtless, hair tousled, looking disoriented, but not enough to miss the towel barely clinging to Cindy’s body as she sauntered out behind him. Her lips were red, swollen. Her eyes gleamed.

And when she saw Luciano standing in the hallway, her mouth curled into a mockery of innocence.

“Oh…Luciano,” she cooed, voice sweet as syrup. “It’s embarrassing… what are you doing here?”

He stared at her like she was something rotting.

“WHAT-” He gritted through his teeth, barely restraining himself, “THE—FUCK—ARE—YOU—DOING—HERE?”

“THAT ROOM,” he said coldly, each word deliberate, “WAS OUR MOTHER’S.”

Lucas flinched. Cindy blinked, lips still parted in feigned surprise.

“We… couldn’t wait,” she said, biting her lip as though it were coyness and not the venom that it was.

Lucas paled.

Luciano’s voice dropped to a deathly whisper. “If you ever step into that room again—either of you—I’ll throw you both out of this mansion myself.”

The air turned frigid. Cindy’s flirtation withered as she took in the deadly storm in his eyes.

“Luciano, we didn’t mean—”

“OUT…” he said. The word cut like a blade. “NOWW!!”

Lucas clenched his fists, jaw tight. But he didn’t argue. Not when Luciano looked like he was one breath away from snapping bones.

He grabbed Cindy by the wrist and walked away without a word, dragging her toward the guest quarters on the far end of the mansion. Cindy threw one last confused and rattled glance over her shoulder. Maybe she hadn’t expected the chaos she’d set in motion to spiral this far.

Luciano didn’t watch them leave.

Instead, he turned and marched straight to Noora’s door.

The moment his fist hit the wood, Noora’s body flinched from the other side.

“Noora,” his voice was harsh, then quieter, like he was trying to restrain the storm still pulsing beneath his skin.

But she didn’t move.

The knocking grew louder, heavier, more frantic.

“Noora—damn it—open the door!” His voice cracked. Something desperate, something unspoken clawed its way into the open. “I didn’t mean—”

But she pressed her hands to her ears, chest heaving with silent sobs. Her nightgown was torn. Her legs still trembled. She couldn’t open the door. Not to him. Not after what he’d almost done.

The knocking slowed. Each thud heavier than the last, until it wasn’t knocking anymore but just a dull thud of something heavier. Like a weight that wouldn’t lift.

Then came the silence.

A heavy breath. Just outside her door.

Noora sat on the floor, her head buried between her knees, trying to keep herself from shaking apart.

Then—

CRACK.

She jolted as something shattered just down the hall. A splintering sound—wood against wall or fist against furniture. Her heart jumped to her throat.

But it wasn’t her door.

It wasn’t her room.

And then…blood.

A thin stream of red trickled from beneath her door, inching toward the carpet like a snake finding its way to her feet.

Her breath caught.

Was it his?

She reached toward the knob instinctively and then stopped, hand hovering mid-air, frozen by fear.

The blood kept creeping until it painted her feet… like a warning or a plea that she could never know. Still, the hallway remained silent. Unnervingly silent.

Only the sound of her own heartbeat that was wild, broken, terrified, filled the room.

She pressed her palm to the door.

And slowly, without breathing, she twisted the doorknob.