The Red Dot
960 Words
For a second, my brain refused to process what I was seeing.
A small red dot.
Perfectly still.
Perfectly centered.
On my chest.
Everything inside me went cold.
Not fear at first.
Shock.
Like my body had forgotten how to respond to danger.
Then reality crashed in.
I stumbled backward so fast I nearly hit the floor.
“No”
My voice broke.
The hospital room exploded into chaos.
“Get down!” a security guard shouted.
Ethan moved first.
One second he was across the room, the next he was in front of me, pulling me behind him.
“Stay behind me,” he ordered.
It wasn’t a suggestion.
It was instinct.
Damien grabbed my arm at the same time.
“No windows!” he barked.
My father’s voice cut through everything.
“Lock down the entire floor!”
Sirens outside grew louder.
Boots thundered in the hallway.
Doors slammed shut as security teams flooded in.
But I couldn’t hear any of it properly.
All I could see was that red dot shifting slightly.
Following me.
Like it was alive.
Like it was choosing.
My breathing turned shallow.
“I can’t” I whispered.
Ethan didn’t look back at me.
“Don’t move.”
His voice was steady.
Too steady.
The kind of calm that only comes from experience.
Damien pulled me further away from the window.
His grip was tight.
Almost painful.
But I didn’t care.
Because the dot was still there.
Still on me.
Still watching.
Then suddenly.....
It vanished.
Just like that.
Gone.
I froze.
“Did they leave?” I whispered.
No one answered immediately.
Ethan slowly looked toward the window.
His expression darkened.
“No,” he said quietly.
“They’re repositioning.”
My stomach dropped again.
Repositioning.
That meant waiting.
Planning.
Adjusting for a better shot.
Me.
I swallowed hard.
“I’m not the target,” I said, almost to convince myself.
My father let out a cold laugh from the bed.
“Of course you are.”
That made me snap my head toward him.
“What does that mean?”
But he didn’t answer.
He was already talking into his phone, barking orders, his voice sharp and ruthless even while injured.
Typical Vincent DeLuca.
Bleeding or not, he was still a war commander.
Ethan suddenly turned to him.
“This isn’t just an attack,” he said.
My father’s eyes narrowed.
“Explain.”
Ethan hesitated.
Just a fraction.
Then—
“They’re escalating.”
Damien stiffened.
“Escalating what?”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“The war.”
The word hit like a punch.
My chest tightened.
“What war?” I demanded.
No one answered me.
Not immediately.
That silence again.
The one I was starting to hate more than anything.
I stepped forward anyway.
“Stop doing that,” I snapped. “Stop talking around me like I’m not here.”
Ethan finally turned to me.
And for the first time, he looked… conflicted.
Like he didn’t want to say it out loud.
But would anyway.
“Someone is trying to trigger a collapse between the DeLuca and Romano empires,” he said.
My pulse spiked.
“That doesn’t explain why I’m being targeted.”
His gaze held mine.
“Because you are the trigger.”
My throat went dry.
Damien exhaled sharply.
“No,” I whispered again, weaker this time. “No, that’s not possible. I’m not— I’m just—”
My father cut in.
“You’re my daughter.”
Simple.
Cold.
Possessive.
But Ethan didn’t react to that.
Instead, he said something worse.
“You’re not just his daughter.”
The room went silent again.
My body turned rigid.
“What did you say?”
Ethan stepped closer.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like he was approaching something fragile.
“Isabella,” he said, “your existence is the reason the original agreement between our families was broken.”
My head spun.
“What agreement?”
Damien’s face tightened immediately.
“Don’t,” he said under his breath.
That was all I needed.
I turned to him.
“You knew.”
Damien didn’t answer.
That was answer enough.
My stomach dropped so hard I thought I might fall.
“You all knew,” I whispered.
No one denied it.
Not even my father.
The silence confirmed everything.
Something inside me cracked open.
Slowly.
Painfully.
I backed away from them.
“All this time,” I said, voice shaking, “you’ve been looking at me like I’m part of some secret I’m not allowed to understand.”
Ethan’s expression softened slightly.
“That’s not”
“Don’t,” I snapped again.
My voice echoed in the room.
I hated how small it sounded.
Outside, the chaos continued.
Footsteps.
Shouts.
The building on lockdown.
But inside this room, the real danger wasn’t outside anymore.
It was the truth.
Then my father spoke again.
And this time, his voice was quieter.
Controlled.
Dangerous in a different way.
“Ethan,” he said, “you’ve said enough.”
Ethan didn’t move.
“I haven’t said anything yet.”
My father’s eyes hardened.
“You’re playing a game you don’t understand.”
Ethan gave a humorless laugh.
“I understand it better than you think.”
Something passed between them.
Something old.
Something unfinished.
Then........
The lights in the room flickered.
Once.
Twice.
And went out.
Total darkness swallowed everything.
For half a second, no one moved.
No one breathed.
Then.....
A sound.
Soft.
Barely audible.
The glass window behind me cracked.
And a voice came through the darkness from somewhere outside the building.
Calm.
Close.
Too close.
“Target acquired.”
And the second I heard it…
I realized the sniper wasn’t aiming at me anymore.
He was already inside the hospital.
- Writer
