The room seemed to shrink around Naela as Monroe's words hung in the air. His raspy voice, laced with arrogance and hidden malice, sent a shiver down her spine. Every instinct screamed for her to run, but her legs were rooted to the floor, her mind battling the growing wave of fear. Fabricio stood to her side, an imposing wall of silent power. His presence was both a comfort and a warnings a reminder of the dangerous line she now walked. His gray eyes locked on Monroe, unblinking, cold as steel.
"You've got five seconds to explain," Fabricio growled, his voice low and menacing. "Why were you expecting her?"
Monroe leaned back against a rickety wooden desk, his smirk unfaltering. "Calm down, De Luca. I don't owe you any explanations." He turned his attention back to Naela, his gaze assessing her as though she were some fragile object he could break with the right pressure. "But her… well, she's a whole different story."
Naela swallowed hard, mustering whatever strength she could. "If you know who I am, then you know I'm not leaving until you tell me everything."
"Brave words for someone walking blindly into the lion's den," Monroe said, chuckling. "But fine, let's play your game. Your father, Christopher Beaumont, wasn't the saint everyone thinks he was. He dabbled in this world my world. And when he made the wrong enemies, he paid the price."
Her heart stopped. "You're saying… you knew him? You were connected to his death?"
Monroe's smirk widened, and he tilted his head. "I'm saying your father knew the risks of being involved with people like me, and he gambled. For you. His precious little girl." He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a sinister whisper. "The debt he left behind? That falls on you now."
Fabricio's fist slammed onto the desk, shattering the wood. "Enough games, Monroe," he snarled, his voice icy. "If you think for a second you can threaten her "
"Threaten?" Monroe raised an eyebrow, amused by Fabricio's outburst. "Oh no, De Luca. This isn't a threat. It's a fact. She was marked the moment her father crossed me. And now, whether she likes it or not, she's part of the game."
Naela's mind spun as her breathing quickened. Every word Monroe said twisted the memory of her father into something unrecognizable. The loving, kind man she remembered a man who had doted on her, protected her was suddenly shrouded in secrets and lies.
"You're lying," she whispered, her voice shaking. "My father wasn't like that. He wouldn't he couldn't "
Monroe's eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction. "Believe what you want, sweetheart. But the truth doesn't care about your feelings. And trust me, the truth will find you sooner than you think."
Before Naela could respond, Fabricio grabbed her arm. "We're done here."
She resisted, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Wait! He hasn't told us everything"
"I said we're done," Fabricio snapped, his grip firm but not painful. His tone left no room for argument.
Monroe chuckled as they turned to leave. "Run all you want, De Luca. You can't protect her from this. Sooner or later, it'll catch up to both of you."
Fabricio didn't look back, his stride purposeful as he guided Naela out of the suffocating room. They moved swiftly through the labyrinth of hallways, his hand never leaving her arm. Naela's heart raced, her mind clouded with questions.
When they finally emerged onto the cold London street, the fresh air hit her like a slap, and she pulled away from Fabricio's grip.
"What are you doing?" she demanded, glaring at him. "He could've told us more!"
"He told us enough," Fabricio said sharply, turning to face her. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with intensity. "You think Monroe's the kind of man who spills secrets out of the goodness of his heart? He gave us exactly what he wanted to, no more, no less."
Naela clenched her fists, tears stinging her eyes. "He's hiding something. I could feel it. And if my father really..."
"Stop." Fabricio's voice softened, but his words carried weight. "Whatever your father was involved in, it doesn't define you. Right now, the only thing that matters is keeping you alive."
Naela stared at him, her chest tight with emotion. "Why do you care so much?"
For a moment, Fabricio didn't answer. His gaze softened, the hard edges of his persona cracking ever so slightly. But before he could respond, the sound of tires screeching broke through the silence.
Fabricio's head snapped toward the source of the noise. A sleek black car sped down the narrow street, its headlights cutting through the fog.
"Get down!" Fabricio barked, pulling Naela behind him as gunshots rang out.
The bullets shattered the quiet night, tearing into the walls and pavement around them. Fabricio's arm wrapped tightly around Naela as he shielded her with his body, his movements swift and calculated.
As the car sped away, the chaos subsided, leaving only the echo of gunfire in its wake. Fabricio released Naela, his expression grim.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, his eyes scanning her for injuries.
Naela shook her head, her breath shaky. "No… I'm fine."
Fabricio's jaw tightened. "They're watching us. They knew we'd go to Monroe."
Her stomach churned. "What does that mean?"
"It means we're running out of time," he said, his voice low. "Whoever's pulling the strings wants you dead, Naela. And if we don't figure out why, they'll get their wish."
Naela swallowed hard, fear and determination warring within her. Whatever secrets her father had left behind, she knew they wouldn't rest until she uncovered them.
But as she looked up at Fabricio, the weight of his gaze steady and unyielding, she realized she wasn't alone in this fight.
For better or worse, she was bound to him now. And together, they would face whatever came next.