5. THE HOUSE

LUNA

It’s a house with no guards.

For a fleeting second, I felt lucky before it dawned on me that a man like him needed guards.

If my guess is correct, he is another mafia lord or a mob boss. Judging by the size of his house, I am betting on the earlier.

On one hand, he was balancing, and with the other hand, he opened a door.

The room was dark. But I can see the king-sized bed in it.

Not so gently, he placed me on the edge of it.

I immediately scurried back, my hands searching for anything I could find as a weapon, and I did.

A lamp.

A raise my hand, threatening him to come closer. My chest heaving, my dress doing little to nothing to cover my cleavage.

He narrowed his gaze. I still didn’t get a good look at his face.

Slowly, he shook his head. Walked to what looked like a closet and came out with a T-shirt and tossed it towards me.

“Wear this,” he ordered.

I looked at the T-shirt and then at him.

“Even if you spread your legs for every man in Whiltred, I still wouldn't touch you." He said as if to explain my questioning look. “I have no interest in touching you.

A whore—that’s what Luna is for him.

A whore—that’s what everyone in the Matrix thinks of me.

I wish I had thrown the lamp at his head the first time I found it; may the consequences be damned.

Now, I feel too emotional, too raw, and too weak that my hands started to shake.

He walked towards another door and went inside.

I looked at the bedroom door. It’s closed.

Against my body’s protest, I got myself up and walked to it.

When was the last time I ate? I don’t know. I can’t say.

I turned the know, but the door didn’t budge. He locked it.

When did he do that? I should start being more cautious.

I wore the shirt he gave me. I was drowned in it. It’s too big for my frame. But I didn’t remove the earlier outfit. Something about it lying on the floor makes me uncomfortable. He could get the wrong idea, too.

Ten minutes later, the deep voice walked out in nothing but a towel.

As much as he said he has no interest in touching me, I am still afraid.

Men think with their dicks. Especially when they decided I was a whore, they would feel entitled to have me. The concept of consent is still foreign to them.

I held the lamp tightly, covered myself with the blanket and slept on one side of the bed.

After a few minutes, the mattress dipped with his weight. He was on the other side. The room was lit with his phone’s light. He scrolled through it for a few more fifteen minutes before he locked it and put it aside.

His breath became even, and just like that, he was out like a light.

I stared at the phone longingly. Now would be the chance to snatch it and call for help.

But I have none. The only person I had was dead. And I couldn’t sleep for a second. I kept staring at the dark ceiling.

*

I slept.

The fuck!

I slept!

Sleep came without permission.

One moment, I was staring at the ceiling.

Next, I slept like a baby.

My eyes flew open when I heard the muffled voices.

For a second, I forgot where I was.

Then the oversized T-shirt, the unfamiliar room, and the smell of cedar pulled me back.

I sat up slowly. The other side of the bed was empty.

The bedroom door stood slightly ajar. It wasn't locked.

My heartbeat quickened.

I slipped off the bed, careful not to make a sound, and crept toward the crack in the door.

"...What the fuck were you thinking?" Someone shouted.

A familiar deep voice answered calmly. "Lower your voice."

"I'll lower my voice when you stop making stupid decisions, Sandro."

I peeked through the opening.

The amber-eyed man stood with his back to me, dressed entirely in black. Across from him was another man, roughly his age, equally intimidating, his arms folded across his chest.

For the first time, the deep voice had a name.

Sandro. His name is Sandro. Is he the same Alessandro I heard stories about? No, it can’t be.

"So don't stand there pretending nothing happened, Sandro." The other guy continued.

Sandro didn't even blink. "She wasn't safe at Raven."

The other man barked out a humourless laugh.

"Why the fuck do you care?"

Silence.

The kind that made the room colder.

"This entire plan is already bad enough," the man continued. "Now you bring her into the house? Are you out of your damn mind? Matias is here. Did you forget?"

Matias? That sounds so familiar.

"I didn't."

"Then explain it to me."

"I already did."

"No." He stepped closer. "You said Raven wasn't safe. That's not an explanation."

Sandro's expression remained unreadable. "I gave one order. And one of your men ignored it. She is here because of your incompetence.”

The man dragged a hand down his face. "Why the fuck would you care?” He asked Sandro again. This plan is bad enough.”

I remember you saying this was a good plan." Sandro countered.

"I also remember you saying you weren't going to start a blood bath."

Sandro's jaw tightened. "That man came in between."

"Oh, don't give me that bullshit."

"He didn't die."

The words were so cold they barely sounded human.

The other man stared at him for a long moment before scoffing.

"You've created a bigger mess than you realise."

Sandro said nothing.

The silence stretched.

Finally, the man sighed.

"Remi will come for her the second he wakes up."

My breathing stopped.

"...What?"

"I heard they're close."

The world tilted beneath my feet.

Remi...

Alive?

My knees nearly gave out.

Alive.

He wasn't dead.

He wasn't lying in a pool of blood because of me.

A sob clawed at my throat.

I covered my mouth before it could escape.

Please...

Please let it be true.

“Remi is a kid,” Sandro said. “He won’t risk his life for a girl. His father won’t let him.”

That’s good. That’s great.

Remi isn’t dead.

This Sandro is not interested.

I am not in Whiltred.

I am not with my father.

I need to find a way now.

To stay here longer until I decide on my next step.

“Sandro—,”

“We are done, Vincenzo,” Sandro said with finality.

VINCENZO?

Of all the names...

My sleep-deprived brain immediately pictured the mafia lawyer from that K-drama.

And I burst into laughter.