Luca stood in front of the old warehouse. The place was tucked away at the edge of the city. He had no idea why Annabelle's father had sent him here. A suitcase, he had said. A simple errand, Luca had assumed. But now, as he stared at the dilapidated building, a cold shiver ran down his spine.
"Why here of all places?" Luca muttered under his breath. He shifted uneasily, glancing around to make sure he wasn't being followed. The streets were eerily quiet, not a soul in sight.
Annabelle's father had been vague, almost too vague. He hadn't offered much explanation, only that the suitcase held something valuable.
Luca hesitated at the entrance, his gut told him to turn around, leave the suitcase and walk away from whatever that was. But he couldn't. He needed to save his sister.
Taking a deep breath, Luca stepped inside, his footsteps echoing in the empty space.
He scanned the area nervously, his senses on high alert. Something wasn't right.
Luca crept further in, trying to stay as quiet as possible. He could hear voices now, faint but growing louder as he moved deeper into the building. He edged around a corner and froze.
About twenty feet ahead of him, a group of men stood huddled in a circle.
They were rough-looking, with tattoos snaking up their arms, and guns slung casually at their sides. Luca's stomach churned. These weren't the kind of men you wanted to run into in a dark alley, let alone a deserted warehouse.
"A den of thieves..." Luca whispered to himself, the realization hitting him like a punch to the gut.
His mind raced. What was Annabelle's father thinking, sending him here? He wasn't a thief or a fighter. He was barely keeping himself afloat, much less ready to take on a room full of criminals. But he had no choice. He had to get the suitcase and get out of here, fast.
Swallowing his fear, Luca ducked behind a stack of crates, his heart pounding in his chest.
The men's voices were getting louder, but they hadn't seen him yet. He peered around the corner, his eyes locking onto a narrow hallway that seemed to lead away from the group.
Without wasting another second, Luca darted down the hallway, praying his footsteps were quiet enough not to draw attention. He moved swiftly, his eyes scanning every door until he saw it, a small room at the far end of the corridor, the door slightly ajar.
This had to be it.
He slipped inside the room and immediately saw it, the suitcase, sitting on a table in the center of the room.
Luca crossed the room in a few quick strides, but just as he reached for the handle, a loud bang echoed through the warehouse.
Gunshots.
Luca's blood ran cold, and he dropped to the floor.
The gunfire was close, too close. His mind raced, panic threatening to take hold. He pressed his body against the cold floor, trying to make himself as small as possible.
"Who the hell is here?!" a voice bellowed. It came from somewhere back near the entrance.
Luca clutched the edge of the table, daring to peek through the narrow gap in the door. The group of men he had seen earlier was now moving, scattering through the warehouse with guns raised, barking orders at one another.
When he couldn't see them, he ran out.
"Hey!" one of the men shouted, calling his attention.
Luca didn't stop. He didn't dare look back. He fell, and the suitcase clattered beside him, but there was no time to think about the pain.
Luca grabbed the suitcase and sprinted toward the fence at the edge of the property, his legs moving faster than they ever had before.
He could hear the men shouting behind him, their footsteps pounding on the pavement as they chased after him.
Suddenly, a heavy hand grabbed his shoulder, yanking him backward with brute force. Luca crashed into the cold concrete floor.
"Where do you think you're going?" a gruff voice growled above him.
Luca groaned, trying to scramble to his feet, but another man stepped forward, kicking him hard in the ribs. Pain shot through his body as he collapsed, clutching his side.
"We asked you a question," the first man said, crouching down to get a better look at Luca. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Luca clenched his jaw, refusing to speak.
"Not talking, huh?" the second man sneered, delivering another brutal kick to Luca's stomach. "We can do this the hard way if you want."
Luca gasped, trying to hold back the pain, but it was no use. His body was betraying him, every nerve on fire.
"Who sent you?" the first man asked again, his patience wearing thin. "Why are you here?"
Still, Luca said nothing. His mind raced, trying to figure out a way out of this mess.
"Enough," the second man growled. "He's not going to talk. Let's take him to the boss."
Luca barely had time to register the words before they hauled him to his feet, his arms twisted painfully behind his back. He struggled, but it was useless, they were stronger, and he was too weak from the beating to put up much of a fight.
They dragged him through the warehouse. Luca's head spun, the pain in his ribs and stomach making it hard to focus.
Finally, they reached a door at the far end of the warehouse. One of the men knocked, and a moment later, the door swung open. Inside was a masked man who Luca guessed was the boss.
He looked up from the papers in front of him, his cold eyes settling on Luca.
"What do we have here?" he asked in a dangerous voice.
"Found him snooping around," one of the men explained, shoving Luca forward. "He won't say a word about why he's here."
The boss leaned back in his chair, studying Luca. "Won't talk, huh?" He stood up, walking around the desk to get a closer look. "That's a problem. Because if you don't talk, I'm going to have to kill you."
Then he looked away. "Break me my dagger, Axel."