Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 68858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
I stepped out into the hallway, the soft click of the door closing behind me echoing in the quiet. The quiet elegance of the space was overwhelming, the kind of luxury that made you feel both in awe and slightly out of place. I took a moment trying to get my bearings. The silence was almost palpable, broken only by the distant hum of activity somewhere within the house.
Gathering my composure, I headed toward the grand staircase, my steps measured and cautious. As I descended slowly, my hand glided along the polished mahogany railing, the smooth surface cool beneath my fingertips. Before I reached the bottom, a figure emerged from a side corridor and approached the base of the stairs. It was an older man with dark blonde hair, neatly combed back, and dressed in simple yet impeccable formal wear. His posture was straight and respectful, exuding an air of quiet authority.
"Miss Castello," he greeted politely, his voice smooth and professional.
I paused on the last step, momentarily taken aback by his sudden appearance. My eyes took him in cautiously as I tried to discern his intentions.
"Mr. Escuro is right this way," he continued, extending a hand in the direction of a long hallway.
I hesitated for a fraction of a second before giving a small nod. "Thank you," I replied softly, my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my chest.
He waited patiently as I descended the final step and then turned to lead the way. Falling into step behind him, I couldn't help but notice the glint of metal peeking out from beneath his jacket. A gun was holstered at the back of his slacks, a stark reminder of the world I had stepped into. The sight made my stomach tighten, but I kept my expression neutral, unwilling to show any sign of unease.
The sound of my heels echoed through the corridor, each click-clack against the shiny floor amplifying the silence around us. The hallway was adorned with exquisite artwork and antique furnishings, each piece likely holding its own story and worth more than I could imagine. As we walked, I glanced around, an unsettling feeling prickling at the back of my neck as if unseen eyes were tracking my every move.
Despite the grandeur and beauty surrounding me, there was an undercurrent of tension in the air, a sense that nothing here was quite as serene as it appeared. Yet, no matter how hard I looked, I saw no one else—only shadows and the distant, muffled sounds that hinted at life beyond these walls. We reached the end of the hallway, stopping in front of a pair of imposing dark oval doors. The man turned to me with a courteous nod, gesturing toward a set of chairs positioned against the wall.
"Please have a seat," he instructed politely.
I obliged, smoothing the fabric of my dress as I settled into one of the chairs. The cushion was firm yet comfortable, upholstered in rich, dark leather that matched the opulent decor of the house. The man approached the doors and opened one just wide enough to slip through, offering me a brief glimpse into the room beyond. I caught sight of four men dressed in dark suits, their postures rigid and expressions unreadable, before the door closed again with a soft thud.
Left alone in the quiet hallway, I took a deep breath, attempting to steady the nervous energy swirling inside me. My mind raced with questions and uncertainties, but I knew that soon enough, I would have to face whatever awaited me beyond those doors. For now, all I could do was wait and try to maintain the composure that had carried me this far. The silence enveloped me once more, broken only by the distant tick of a grandfather clock.
A man’s shrill cry of pain jolted me to my feet, the sound slicing through the heavy silence. My pulse quickened as I took an instinctive step back, every nerve in my body screaming to retreat from whatever was happening in the next room. Before I could take another step, both doors swung open with a force that made the chandelier overhead tremble, and the man in question was unceremoniously shoved into the hall.
He landed on his knees with a sickening thud, his disorientation evident as he wobbled, trying to regain his bearings. His once immaculate suit was now a crumpled mess, one cufflink torn away, dangling uselessly from his sleeve. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his hand, which was desperately cupping a bleeding nose, the bones beneath the skin twisted into an unnatural angle that made my stomach churn.
Mateo emerged from the room like a dark specter.
His expression was infuriatingly calm, almost indifferent, as he looked down at the man.
"Get him out of my house," he commanded, his voice a quiet yet authoritative force that left no room for argument.