Chapter 3 - In the Dark
665 Words
The door shut behind us with a quiet click that sounded far too final.
Luca didn’t move right away. He just stood there, one hand in his pocket, eyes on me like I was a puzzle he’d decided to solve. My pulse hammered against my ribs, but I forced my shoulders back.
“I don’t know what you think you saw out there,” I said, breaking the silence first, “but I’m not—”
“Not what?” His voice was low, measured. “Not curious? Not in over your head?”
His words pressed against my skin more than his presence did. I hated that I didn’t look away.
“I came here to have a drink,” I said, reaching for the glass on the small table, more for something to do than because I wanted it. “That’s it.”
He smiled like I’d just told a joke. “People like you don’t end up in places like this by accident.”
I bristled. “People like me?”
“Pretty. Sharp. Restless.” He stepped closer. “Danger looks good on you.”
I almost laughed, except my throat was too dry. “You don’t even know me.”
“Not yet,” he said, tilting his head. “But I will.”
The way he said it wasn’t flirtation. It was certainly. A promise — or a threat. I couldn’t decide which.
My mind screamed to leave, but my feet stayed planted. Something about him pulled and pushed at the same time. I told myself it was just adrenaline.
“Tell me,” he said, leaning on the table now, “why were you watching me before you even walked in?”
My stomach tightened. I hadn’t realized he’d noticed. “I wasn’t watching you.”
“That’s the second lie you’ve told me tonight,” he said softly. “You’re not very good at it.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. I hated how he could read me in seconds. “You think you know everything.”
“No,” he said, straightening. “I just know when someone’s trying to hide something.”
I swallowed hard. “And what do you think I’m hiding?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached for a small envelope on the table and slid it toward me. My name – my full name – was written across it in neat handwriting.
My chest constricted. “Where did you get this?”
“That,” he said, watching my reaction, “is the wrong question.”
“What’s the right one?”
“Why I bothered to give it to you instead of keeping it.”
My fingers twitched, itching to open it, but every instinct screamed not to.
“Go on,” he murmured. “It’s yours.”
I stared at the envelope. The weight of it in my hands was more than paper and ink—it was a door, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to walk through it.
When I looked up again, he was closer. Close enough that I could smell the faint scent of smoke and something darker.
“You came here for a drink,” he said, echoing my own words. “I came here for you.”
The air between us seemed to shrink. My mouth went dry. “Why?”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Because you’re going to help me with something.”
My voice was barely a whisper. “And if I say no?”
He leaned in until his breath brushed my ear. “Then you’ll find out exactly why people don’t tell me no.”
The sound of laughter drifted from outside the door, but in here, it felt like the walls had closed in.
I didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t dare.
“Open it,” he said, nodding toward the envelope.
My fingers slipped under the flap—
And that’s when the lights went out.
- Writer
