Fabricio's grip on Naela's arm was firm as he led her down a winding staircase into the heart of the mansion. The air grew colder with every step, and the distant hum of voices became louder. Naela's mind raced, replaying the cryptic words of the hooded stranger in the room above.
"You don't have to drag me," she snapped, trying to pull away.
Fabricio stopped abruptly, turning to face her. His gray eyes glinted like steel, his expression hard and unreadable. "You're lucky I'm not throwing you into a cell," he said coolly. "You're a liability until I know exactly who sent you and why."
"No one sent me!" she protested, her voice rising. "I told youI don't know why I'm here. My stepsister…."
"Save it," Fabricio interrupted, his tone laced with irritation. "We'll see how truthful you're feeling once I get some answers."
They emerged into a large hall, where a group of men stood in tense silence. At the center of the room was a man tied to a chair, his head slumped forward. Blood stained his shirt, and his breathing was labored. Naela's stomach turned as she took in the scene. She had never been so close to violence, and the raw brutality of it made her want to retreat.
Fabricio's men parted as he approached, their eyes flicking between him and Naela. Whispers rippled through the room like a current, but they died the moment Fabricio raised a hand.
"Who is he?" Naela asked in a hushed voice, her gaze fixed on the man in the chair.
"A problem," Fabricio replied curtly, stepping forward.
The man lifted his head slowly, revealing a battered face. Despite the bruises and blood, his eyes burned with defiance as he met Fabricio's gaze.
"You've caused quite the stir," Fabricio said, his voice low but deadly. "Breaking into my property, threatening my men. Care to explain yourself?"
The man spat blood onto the floor, a dark smirk tugging at his lips. "You think you're untouchable, De Luca, but you're not. You and your empire are living on borrowed time."
Fabricio's jaw tightened, but his composure didn't falter. He leaned closer, his tone dropping to a chilling whisper. "Who sent you?"
The man laughed, a harsh sound that echoed in the room. "You already know the answer to that. She's playing you, just like she's playing everyone else." His gaze flicked to Naela, and his smirk widened. "Even her."
Naela froze, her blood running cold. "What are you talking about?" she demanded, stepping forward despite the fear gripping her.
The man's expression softened, almost pitying. "You have no idea what kind of game you're in, do you? Poor girl. You were doomed the moment you stepped into that bar."
"Enough," Fabricio snapped, his voice cutting through the tension. He straightened, his commanding presence filling the room. "Take him to the holding cell. I'll deal with him later."
Two of Fabricio's men stepped forward, dragging the captive out of the room. The man's laughter echoed behind him, chilling Naela to the bone.
As the room emptied, Fabricio turned to her, his eyes narrowing. "You've got some explaining to do."
"I don't know him!" Naela exclaimed, her voice trembling. "I don't know anything about this!"
Fabricio studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Then you'd better start figuring it out," he said quietly. "Because whoever's behind this doesn't care about your innocence. And neither do I."
Naela opened her mouth to argue, but the weight of his words silenced her. She wasn't just a victim caught in the crossfire anymore. She was a pawn in a game she didn't understand a game that could cost her everything.