Bound by fate

Chapter five: Shadows Within the Walls

The first scream came just after midnight.

It didn’t start like a scream at first—more like a sharp sound cut off too quickly, swallowed by the thick silence of the Moretti estate. But silence, in a place like this, never lasted long.

Within seconds, footsteps thundered across the marble halls.

Ariana Brooks jolted awake in the small servant quarters.

Her heart was already racing before she even understood why.

Then came the alarm.

Not loud. Not public.

Private.

A low, repeating tone that echoed through the walls like a warning meant only for those who understood what it meant.

Lockdown breach.

Ariana sat upright, breath caught in her throat.

“No… not again,” someone whispered from the neighboring bed.

The room erupted into motion—maids pulling on robes, whispering fearfully, grabbing for whatever small sense of control they could find.

Ariana moved with them, but her thoughts were already elsewhere.

Damien.

Even injured, even half-dead days ago, this kind of alarm only meant one thing.

Someone had gotten inside.

The mansion had transformed.

By the time Ariana reached the corridor, the warm lighting had been replaced by harsh red emergency strips along the floor. Doors that were usually open were now sealed shut. Guards moved in coordinated silence, weapons drawn.

The air itself felt heavier.

“Stay in your quarters!” a voice barked from above.

But no one listened.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Ariana hugged the wall as she moved, trying to stay out of sight. She didn’t know where she was going—only that staying still felt more dangerous.

Then she heard it.

Gunfire.

Distant. Muffled. Somewhere deep inside the estate.

Her stomach dropped.

The Moretti mansion wasn’t supposed to sound like a battlefield.

And yet tonight—it did.

Down the main corridor, Marco was already in motion.

“Elena!” he shouted sharply. “Where is she?”

A man in tactical gear rushed past him. “She was in the east wing an hour ago. She refused escort.”

Marco cursed under his breath.

“She always refuses escort,” Rafael muttered, tightening his gloves as he joined them.

“Not tonight,” Marco snapped.

Another explosion of sound echoed—closer this time.

The mansion shook slightly.

Dust drifted from the ceiling.

Rafael looked up sharply. “They’re inside the lower perimeter.”

Marco didn’t hesitate. “Protect Damien.”

In the medical wing, the lights flickered.

The doctor froze mid-movement.

“What was that?” she demanded.

Elena, who had been sitting near Damien’s bed, slowly stood.

Her expression had changed.

The playful arrogance from earlier was gone.

Now there was something colder.

Alert.

Danger-aware.

“They’re not supposed to be inside the compound,” she said quietly.

Marco burst into the room seconds later.

“Move him,” he ordered immediately.

The doctor turned. “I already told you—he can’t be moved.”

“I didn’t ask,” Marco replied sharply.

Elena stepped between them. “If you move him now, he dies.”

“Then he dies here,” Marco said flatly. “Because if they reach this room, he dies anyway.”

Silence fell.

Even the machines beside Damien seemed louder in the quiet.

Ariana, who had followed the sound of chaos without realizing it, now stood just outside the doorway again—hidden, watching.

Damien lay still on the bed, eyes closed, but his breathing had changed.

Slower.

More controlled.

Like even unconscious, he was reacting.

Elena leaned closer to him, voice softer now. “Damien… wake up. We have a problem.”

No response.

Marco turned toward the corridor. “Rafael, secure the east entry. I’ll take west.”

Footsteps scattered instantly.

The mansion was breaking into pieces of defense.

And at its center—

Damien Moretti still hadn’t moved.

Ariana shouldn’t have stepped closer.

She knew that.

But something pulled her forward anyway.

The hallway outside the medical room was empty now except for flickering lights and distant echoes of chaos.

Then—

A sound behind her.

She froze.

Slowly turned.

Nothing.

Her breath hitched.

Then a whisper.

“So you’re still wandering where you shouldn’t be.”

Ariana spun around fully.

Rafael stood at the end of the corridor, partially shadowed, eyes scanning her with sharp curiosity.

“I—I was just—”

“Lost?” he interrupted.

She swallowed. “Yes.”

A pause.

Then he nodded slightly. “That’s believable tonight.”

Another explosion echoed somewhere deeper in the mansion, shaking the floor beneath them.

Ariana flinched.

Rafael noticed immediately. “You shouldn’t be out here.”

“I didn’t plan to be.”

“None of us did,” he muttered.

He looked past her, toward the medical wing. “They’re moving fast. Whoever breached the estate knows the layout.”

Ariana’s throat tightened. “Who would do that?”

Rafael didn’t answer immediately.

Then, quietly: “Someone who used to work for us.”

That hit harder than she expected.

Before she could respond, another voice cut through the corridor.

“Rafael!”

Marco appeared at the far end, urgency in every step.

“They’ve breached the lower medical corridor.”

Rafael cursed under his breath. “That’s too close.”

Marco’s eyes flicked briefly to Ariana.

“Get her out of here.”

Rafael shook his head. “She’s already seen too much movement. She’s a liability if she’s wandering blind.”

Ariana stiffened. “I can go back—”

“No,” Marco interrupted sharply. “If you go back alone, you might run into them.”

Silence.

Ariana’s stomach tightened.

Them.

Whoever “them” was, they were inside the mansion.

Hunting.

Inside the medical room, the lights suddenly cut out.

Complete darkness.

For half a second, no one spoke.

Then the backup generator kicked in—but only partially. Emergency lights flickered weakly.

Elena immediately moved to Damien’s side.

Marco entered seconds later. “They’re close.”

The doctor’s voice shook slightly. “We need full power—his monitors—”

“Forget the monitors,” Elena said sharply. “Focus on breathing.”

A faint sound came from the corridor outside.

Slow footsteps.

Too calm.

Too deliberate.

Everyone inside the room went still.

Marco raised his weapon.

Rafael appeared at the doorway again, breath slightly heavier. “Two hostiles down the west hall. More coming.”

Elena didn’t move her eyes from the door.

“They’re not here to fight everyone,” she said quietly.

Marco glanced at her. “What are they here for, then?”

Elena’s answer was almost a whisper.

“Finishing a job.”

Ariana, still outside in the corridor, pressed herself against the wall.

Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure it would give her away.

Then she heard it.

A different sound.

Not footsteps.

A voice.

Calm.

Close.

“Damien Moretti.”

A pause.

“Still breathing?”

Inside the room, Elena’s hand tightened slightly.

Marco stepped forward.

“Show yourself.”

Silence.

Then—

A soft chuckle echoed through the corridor.

And from the darkness, a figure began to step forward.

Not fully visible yet.

But enough to make the air in the mansion shift again.

Because whoever it was…

They weren’t afraid of the guards.

They weren’t afraid of Marco.

And they had come knowing exactly where Damien was lying.

Still injured.

Still vulnerable.

Still alive.

And for the first time since the lockdown began—

Ariana understood something clearly.

This wasn’t just an attack.

It was personal.