Chapter 24

LEILA  

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“You’re being called,” Gerald had growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the very air, shaking me to my core.

It  felt like I could just dissolve into the shadows, vanish into thin air, but that wasn’t even remotely possible in this life.

I looked at Misa, her face a mask of carefully neutral concern, and then back at my phone lying discarded on the bed.

Trying to stand, my legs felt like lead, my vision still slightly blurred from the lingering effects of the previous night.

“What do you think might be the cause?” I whispered to Misa, my voice barely audible, while Gerald had turned his back, his broad shoulders tense.

At first, a jolt of pure panic had shot through me, thinking something terrible had happened and he was here to deliver some devastating blow, but no, he was just here for a call.

 So why did the summons feel so heavy, so ominous?

His eyes, when he had looked at me, had seemed utterly devoid of life.

 Black.

Just black.

Totally dead.

 “I don’t think you should be talking right now,” Misa had murmured, her gaze flicking nervously towards Gerald’s rigid form.

I followed behind as he moved with a grim purpose towards the door, Misa trailing immediately after me, her footsteps light and quick.

“We could be walking into our death,” I’d whispered, a nervous giggle escaping my lips.

“So I have to say my last words.”

Gerald had stopped abruptly, turning to look at me, his expression unreadable, and I’d instantly clapped a hand over my mouth, the humor dying in my throat.

This was more serious than I had initially grasped.

My smile completely vanished, and Misa fell into a tense silence beside me.

We walked through the long, oppressive hallway, the silence amplifying the nervous flutter in my stomach.

We reached the door.

I didn’t like this door.

It was the same hall, the same ominous threshold, where he had so coldly taken the life of Tracy.

The memory alone sent a fresh wave of fear crashing over me, making my hands tremble.

I frantically ran through everything I had done, everything I had said today, trying to pinpoint some transgression that would warrant a death sentence.

“Do you think I did something so bad?” I’d asked Misa, my voice barely a choked whisper, and she had just raised a hand, palm out, a silent gesture of ignorance or perhaps a warning to be quiet.

She didn’t even look remotely scared, her composure a contrast to my own unraveling nerves.

We walked through the doorway and into the vast, echoing space.

Damien stood there, his back to us, one hand casually resting behind him, but even from this distance, I could see the telltale glint of metal a gun.

The same gun.

A Glock 17gen5

The latest model, sleek and deadly.

At least I knew my weapons.

And then my eyes landed on Matteo.

He knelt on the cold stone floor, his head bowed, his face utterly devoid of emotion, an unsettling blank canvas.

“I guess you were never going to tell me about the letters, right?” Damien’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and laced with a coldness that made my blood ruddy in my skin.

Fear, raw and visceral, gripped me in that instant, and I staggered, almost losing my footing.

“I… I… I did plan on telling you, bu…” My voice trailed off, my throat suddenly tight with terror.

He turned fully then, his gaze piercing, locking onto mine.

Misa had already retreated to a corner of the hall, standing with her head bowed slightly.

I was the only one left standing, exposed and vulnerable under the weight of everyone’s watchful eyes.

My mind raced, trying to comprehend what could have possibly made Matteo, the ever-defiant Matteo, kneel like that.

 He didn’t strike me as the type to ever willingly bend the knee.

“I had told you,” Damien continued, his voice dangerously calm, “that anything concerning me, anything you needed to relay, you could bring it directly, and you would be brought to me. You have a phone.” His eyes, dark and intense, held mine for a long, agonizing moment before he turned his attention back to me.

“Damien, I…” I began, my voice trembling.

He walked closer to me, closing the distance between us until we were just a breath apart. His eyes, like chips of obsidian, locked onto mine, and I knew in that instant there was no turning back from this confrontation. It was either my last day, or a day I would lose a part of myself I didn’t even know I could afford to sacrifice.

“Raven!” he growled, his voice low and guttural, his breath fanning across my face.

“Do not, don’t be… that. Don’t do that.” He spoke calmly this time, but the underlying rage was there.

I could feel the tension radiating off him, the barely contained fury simmering beneath his controlled exterior.

The veins in his neck looked like they were about to pop,Then, he turned abruptly towards Matteo, his gaze hardening.

“I had my eyes off her, trusting you to look after her, to guard her, and all you did was go behind my back, sending letters, forgetting she’s under my protection.” My eyes widened in shock.

Gerald moved towards Matteo, his footsteps echoing on the floor. He leaned in, whispering something in Damien’s ear. Damien’s eyes darkened further, if that was even possible, and he looked down at the kneeling man.

Squatting down, his movements fluid and predatory, Damien used the barrel of his gun to tilt Matteo’s head up, forcing him to look into his eyes.

“The Elvares,” he scoffed, the name dripping with contempt.

That name… it sounded familiar, a dark whisper in the undercurrents of this world. I’d heard the Elvares were dangerous, not to be trifled with, and for years, a bitter feud had simmered between this families.

He turned towards me and walked closer, his gaze never leaving mine and then he stretched his hand backward, still staring intently as I hesitantly placed my hand in his.

Bang.

Bang.

The deafening sound of the gun echoed in my ears, the sharp report sending a jolt of pure terror through me.

I subconsciously screamed, tears instantly welling up and streaming down my face as I instinctively stumbled backward, wanting to run, to get as far away from the violence as possible.

I might be next.

“Damien, I’m sorry,” I sobbed, my voice choked with fear “I never meant to keep it from you. I just… I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. It involved my life.”

The image of Matteo falling backward after the gunshot, his body collapsing onto the floor, was already seared into my memory, a horrifying tableau.

He had been my friend, or at least someone I had considered a friend, and I doubted he would have done anything to truly harm me.

But he did.

The information had come from Gerald, and in this world, Gerald’s word was something Damien doesn’t joke with, he must have done their own investigations, been certain of his betrayal.

Damien moved towards the door, his hand still gripping mine tightly. I instinctively followed, my body trembling uncontrollably. I think this small alcove by the door was the only spot that offered even a sliver of concealment. He looked down at me, his expression unreadable, before turning his gaze towards the now open doorway.

I turned my head, my eyes darting across everyone’s faces.

They all looked pale and scared, frozen in place by the sudden violence, except for Gerald, whose expression remained impassive, a silent witness to the brutal consequences of disloyalty.