The girl looked at me like she had already seen me die once I was genuinely afraid.

She murmured, "There were others."

With three deliberate steps, she sped across the room and drew back my curtain's edge.

She remarked, "If you stand right here, the camera has a blind spot. But it goes fast."

I was speechless. My tongue felt heavy.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked. She hesitated, then lowered her tone even more. "Because if you are smart, you will play along." Smile. Nod. That's the only way he lets his guard down and stay alive."

Who are you? I asked once more. Her gaze drifted toward the corridor. "I'm nobody. Just like you

I stepped closer to her. "What happened to the others?"

She opened her mouth to respond but the door abruptly creaked open. She disappeared from the side like a shadow. Gone before I even thought to follow. Standing in her place was one of Isaac's guards. cold-eyed, quiet.

“Mr. Vitorri wants you in the west wing.”

The west wing

It sounded like something out of a fairytale. Except this wasn’t a castle. And Isaac Vitorri wasn’t a prince.

The guard didn’t speak as he led me through dark corridors I hadn’t seen before. The ceilings grew lower. The windows smaller.

Eventually, we reached a black double door with a golden crest carved into it.

The Vitorri family emblem.

He knocked once before opening it.

Inside was a private library.

But not like the one upstairs with leather bound books for show. This one was filled with manila folders, maps, security feeds, weapons tucked on hidden shelves.

And Isaac.

He stood by a large wall of photographs, half-shadowed, cigarette between his fingers.

When he looked at me, I felt that old shiver crawl down my spine.

“You took your time,” he said without turning.

“I wasn’t given a choice,” I replied, my voice steadier than I felt.

He gestured to the room. “Do you know what this is?”

"A war room."I said automatically, He smirked, "Clever."

I examined the images more carefully. Males. Female. Some familiar from the media. Some not. One had a thick red X slashed through his face.

"You kill them?" I asked softly.

"If necessary."

"And if it is not?" I inquired.

He finally turned and faced me. "Then I let another person do it."

I chewed hard. He tapped one of the folders. "I want you to arrange these. Cross-check the names on the kill list with the phone numbers you'll find inside. Then link each phone number to the companies they are connected to."

I blinked. "You think I could do all of that?"

He arched an eyebrow. "You said you used to work in an office." Make use of what you know. "Impress me."

"And if I don't?

He smiled, cold and slow. “Then I'll find someone else. You'll return to your room, back to silence, back to being watched.

There was not much choice. So I sat down.

The folders were heavy with information I shouldn’t be seeing. I had barely opened the second when something caught my eye.

A name.

Michael Dawson.

My heart skipped a beat.

My brother’s name.

My fingers trembled as I flipped through the page.

There it was. A black-and-white photograph.

Young. Brown eyes. My brother.

Alive.

Underneath his name was a line of text.

CURRENT STATUS: UNKNOWN.

I looked up. “Why is my brother in this file?”

Isaac didn’t blink. “Because I’ve been looking for him.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Michael Dawson used to work for someone very dangerous. He had something I wanted.”

“No,” I whispered. “Michael wouldn’t he’s just a kid.”

“Kids grow up fast when they’re poor,” Isaac said coldly. “And when they’re desperate.”

I stood up so fast the chair screeched. “You kidnapped me because of him?” I said angrily

“I kidnapped you because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He paused. “But now that I know your connection… you’re no longer just a mistake.”

I backed away. “You’re lying. You’re trying to manipulate me.”

“I’m giving you the truth, Ariana. Something your brother never did.”

Tears burned behind my eyes.

Michael.

He was out there. Hunted. And somehow involved with this monster’s world.

“I want to see him,” I said.

Isaac stepped closer. “Help me find him, and maybe you will.”

I was shaking. I didn’t know if it was rage or fear.

But I nodded.

And in that moment, I realized, I was part of this now.

Whether I wanted to be or not.

That night

I couldn’t sleep again.

Not after learning Michael might be the reason I was here.

I sat by the window, staring into the black garden below when I heard a sound something off.

Like a soft knock… but not on the door.

On the wall.

I stood and crossed the room.

The knock came again.

Faint. Hollow. Like it came from inside the walls.

I pressed my ear to the surface.

And I heard it.

A girl’s voice.

Whispering.

Crying.

“Please… help me…”