บททั้งหมดของ OMERTÀ: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

“What do you mean she caught you?” Panic rose up my throat like bile, quicker than I ever thought was possible. A chill ran down my spine, shaking me. I gripped the sheets, turning to her with great speed. The maid looked at me, eyes wide, the most solemn expression I've ever seen on a human renting her face.“I'm so sorry madam. I don't know what happened. I'd bought the burner phone as you'd instructed. I even went as far as getting a close friend of mine’s contact, if things went the wrong way. I put the burner phone in my bag while leaving this morning. I even hid it in my underwear knowing the guards wouldn't check them when they searched me. It was in my bag as I went about my daily duties cause I had planned to come to you during the evening period as we had agreed yesterday.” I watched her recount all that had led up to this, mind racing.“And then what happened? How did she find out?” I asked frantically again and again, willing her to speak faster. I breathed long and hard,

“You can't possibly be serious, Roseville. You're joking, right?” I turned to her, a maelstrom of emotions building within me. Was she actually being serious? She had to be joking, right?I just stood there, frozen, my mouth slightly open as I gaped at her. My mind raced, trying to process what she had just asked of me, some outrageous demand that seemed impossible to pull off. I felt like I was being asked to conjure a storm out of clear skies, to twist reality itself to fit her impossible request.Yet there she was, calm as ever. She smiled, a knowing smile, one that carried a silent message I couldn’t quite decipher but knew I wouldn’t like. Without breaking eye contact, she reached for a nearby chair, dragged it closer with an agonizing scrape against the floor, and lowered herself into it. Slowly, she crossed her legs, folded her hands in her lap, and stared at me expectantly, her smile never faltering. She wasn’t just waiting for my answer, she was daring me to give the wrong on

The sharp click of the door latch snapped through the air, freezing us both in place. The sound alone was enough to send a jolt of panic racing down my spine, but it was nothing compared to what followed. He stepped inside, the sight of him hitting like a punch to the chest, cold, sudden, and impossible to ignore.We stood there, rooted in place, too stunned to move. His gaze locked onto us, eyes narrowing in confusion as he tried to piece together what he was seeing. For a moment, no one spoke — no one even breathed — as if the entire room were holding itself still. My pulse thundered in my ears, my skin cold and clammy.Roseville reacted first, her panic evident in the way she scrambled to free herself from the mess of sheets. She moved in a blur, hastily straightening her clothes before stepping beside the bed, her head bowed low like she could will herself invisible. But nothing could erase the tension that clung to the room, thick and stifling, suffocating every second that passe

Alexandra Dellarosa's POV My eyes fluttered open to reveal the room ceiling, pushing themselves closed almost immediately after. I felt a sharp pinch on my forearm, stretching to find a line, fluid running through it into my arm. Something felt cool against my forehead, like soft, damp cloth pressing gently to my skin. My throat ached, raw and tight, and breathing felt like dragging air through broken glass. My body felt weak, almost like I’d been wrung out, every limb heavy and useless.The room swam in and out of focus, the ceiling blurring again, the faint flicker of a lamp making shadows dance along the walls. My head throbbed, and my chest burned with each breath.“You’re awake,” a soft voice whispered.I turned my head slightly, looking in the direction of the voice, just enough to see Roseville sitting beside me, her face lined with worry. She was holding the cloth, her hand steady despite the concern written across her features.“Don’t try to move. It'll only hurt more. You'v

Alexandra Dellarosa's POVI got up slowly, feeling the stiffness in my limbs as though I were waking from a year-long slumber. Each movement was slow and deliberate, the dull ache spreading through my body like an unwelcome guest that refused to leave. My muscles throbbed, my joints cracked quietly, but I kept going — stretching my arms, rolling my neck, coaxing my body to life. It hurt, but I welcomed the pain. It felt grounding, something real to hold onto when everything else felt unsteady.I breathed in deeply, filling my lungs with the stale air of the room, air that had grown heavy and lifeless over the past few days. Turning toward the large curtains at the far end of the room, I walked over with careful steps. That small corner, tucked away in quiet isolation, had become more familiar to me than the bed I was meant to recover in. The window was my escape, my reminder that there was still a world outside, a world still spinning even as I lay trapped in my own silence.The thoug