The night stretched on forever. Thick. Silent. Like the mansion itself was holding its breath.
No Don Pedro.
No Damien.
No maids.
Just me and the echo of my thoughts.
I curled deeper into the cold sheets, shivering.
I'd sneezed at least fifteen times tonight. Maybe more.
The chill in my bones wasn't just the cold.
It was everything.
The way Don Pedro looked at me before he walked away.
The words I spat at him—some out of fear, some out of rage.
Some I wish I could take back.
Some I don't.
I sniffled.
God, I wanted my mom.
If I were home, I wouldn't think twice about waking her up. I wouldn't even have entered the rain in the first place.
I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling. My mind refused to shut up.
It ran laps—Don Pedro's expression, Damien's smirk, the storm, the blood.
How the hell was I supposed to look them in the eyes tomorrow?
I turned my head.
2:00 a.m.
Sleep? Nowhere in sight.
But the restlessness? Loud and screaming.
A walk. Maybe that would help.
Walking used to help, back when I had a life, when walking didn't feel like breaking a rule.
But on a second thought, a short walk wouldn't cut it.
One hallway. Breathe. Everyone's asleep. No one will know.
I slid out of bed, quiet as a whisper. My feet hit the cold floor and I flinched.
The mansion was too big. Too quiet.
Each step echoed like a footstep behind me that wasn't mine.
I moved carefully, trying not to brush against the wrong door. This place was a maze–beautiful, deadly, and not mine.
Then I saw it.
The bar.
I should've kept walking.
Should've ignored the gleam of bottles behind the glass.
But the thought of a drink... something strong... something to knock me out was too tempting.
I crossed the room in slow strides, pulled out a chair, and sat with a soft creak.
My hand reached for a bottle, searching for the strongest thing I could find.
My fingers trembled. Just a little.
I wasn't alone.
There. In the shadows. A figure sat still, watching me
I froze.
No.
Please not now.
My heart dropped. My throat closed.
Don Pedro?
He stood.
No.
This man was not as taller, broader as Don Pedro.
The air shifted with something heavier.
The cigar lit his face in a flash of orange, then shadowed it again.
He was older. Maybe too old, but energetic.
Dark hat. Bloodshot eyes.
A cane gripped in one hand like it was more weapon than support.
There was something rotted in his aura. Like a man who'd buried too many things and wanted to bury one more.
I couldn't breathe.
His gaze sliced into me.
"Hi, Lily Donatello."
My name. Full name. No hesitation.
He knew exactly who I was.
I swallowed, hard. "Who are you?"
He smiled. Barely. It didn't reach his eyes.
Didn't even try.
"I came to see the bitch he gave everything up for."
Bitch.
The word hit different coming from him.
That's when I thought it clicked, until it didn't.
He wasn't just a stranger. But I didn't know what he was either.
Still, I knew one thing:
He wasn't here for small talk.
I could feel it in the way he looked at me, like I'd already wronged him. Like he'd been waiting for this moment, like someone had finally opened the cage.
And now he was out.
I felt a presence charging in fast behind me like a threat cloaked in wind.
My body stiffened as a hand grabbed me.
I spun around, heart in my throat.
Only to let out a shaky breath.
Don Pedro.
I exhaled again, slower. "There was..."
I turned quickly to point at the man I'd just seen–
But he was gone.
Just like that.
Like the floor had swallowed him whole.
Don Pedro didn't even follow my eyes. Didn't ask why I was there. Didn't ask why I looked like I'd seen a ghost.
He just grabbed my arm. Tight.
"I knew I'd never find you in your damn room," he said through clenched teeth.
"He...he was…" I tried to speak. To say something. Anything.
But he cut me off.
"Now's not the time for your stubbornness. We have to go. Someone broke into the mansion."
My lips parted. I froze.
So he didn't see him?
That man wasn't just some drunk, he was the break-in.
But Don Pedro… he thought I was arguing. Again.
His hand tightened as he dragged me away.
"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice barely catching up with my feet.
But he didn't answer.
And when I resisted, he didn't even flinch.
He threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing.
"Put me down! I can walk!" I yelled, kicking and hitting his back. But he didn't care.
He marched to the sleek black car waiting outside, tossed the door open and threw me in like I was just a bag he was done carrying.
"Take her away," he ordered.
"No, wait...wait!" I fought against the door, jamming my leg out.
"What about you?" My voice cracked. Real fear laced every word. "You're not coming?"
"I'll meet you there."
"I don't feel safe," I tilted my head. "When I'm not around you…" I added quietly with a little bit of shame.
Too soft. Too soon.
But too true to take back.
He looked at me. "It's not safe here. Whoever it was shouldn't have been able the come in."
"Then come with me. Please…" I pleaded. I didn't even care how I sounded anymore.
Last night, I told him I hated him, and now I was begging him to stay?
What the hell was wrong with me?
"I don't have time for your stubbornness," he muttered and slammed the door shut.
But then he opened the other side…
And slid in next to me.
"Drive," he ordered.
The car surged forward.
I glanced at him, unsure what to feel—relief? Confusion? Fear?
I smiled inwardly, but he didn't even look at me.
Then his phone rang.
He picked up on the first ring.
"Damien, meet us there. And tell Osaro to keep all perimeters covered until we find the snake."
He hung up.
Something still didn't sit right.
The way that man knew my full name. The look in his eyes. That hate wasn't new.
I wanted to tell Don Pedro, but didn't know if it was a good time.
"There was a man at the bar," I finally found the courage to say.
"What man?" Don Pedro asked, immediately alert.
"He was tall. Old. Scary."
Don Pedro looked at me, waiting for more.
"He said he came to say hi to 'the bitch you gave it all up for,'" I added, looking down.
"The son of a bitch," Don Pedro muttered under his breath.
"Sir… that was Mr. Mancuso," the guard said from the front seat. "His son was one of the people we shot at the ball. He didn't make it."
Don Pedro didn't react.
Then the guard turned to him.
"I think we just unleashed war."