Chapter Six: A Call From Home
1125 Words
The morning light crept shyly through the curtains of Lucy’s apartment, Lucy sat curled on the sofa, her knees pulled to her chest, her blue eyes hollow from a night of restless sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, the scene from the club returned: the half-open door, the desperate pleading voice, the sudden gunshot, and the unmistakable sound of Marcel’s commanding tone cutting through the smoke-filled room.
A soft knock rattled her door. Before Lucy could stand, Benny slipped inside, her face tense, her words spilling out quickly.
“Lucy… before you say anything, I want to apologize for last night.”
Lucy’s eyes lifted slowly, her expression a storm of hurt and anger. “Apologize?” Her voice trembled, sharp with accusation. “Benny, how could you leave me? How could you… go?”
Benny swallowed, guilt flashing across her face. She stepped closer, wringing her hands. “I didn’t mean to. Andre came… he said he was at the club, and I—I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have left you. I’m so sorry, Lucy.”
Lucy pushed herself to her feet, her body shaking as much from fear as from anger. “You left me alone, Benny! Do you even know what I went through?” Her voice cracked. “You don’t understand… something happened. Something terrible.”
The weight in Lucy’s tone made Benny freeze.
Her mind flashed back to the muffled sound she thought she’d heard in the club—a gunshot. At the time, she dismissed it as the bass of the music or her imagination. But now, with Lucy trembling before her, the memory sharpened. Her hands flew to her ears, trembling as she whispered, “No… no, don’t tell me—”
Lucy reached out, catching Benny’s wrists, “Benny, listen to me.”
Benny stared into her friend’s eyes, wide with fear. “Lucy… what happened last night? Tell me. Please.”
Lucy hesitated, her lips parting, then closing again. She lowered her gaze, clutching the edge of the sofa cushion as if it could anchor her.
Benny guided her gently to sit, rubbing her shoulders. “It’s okay. Just tell me. I’m here. Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”
Lucy’s chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Gunshots. Benny, I heard… gunshots.”
Benny leaned closer, “Gunshots? Where?”
Lucy shook her head quickly, “In the club… There was this door, half-open. I—I heard someone begging for his life. And then…” Her voice cracked. “Then I heard a gunshot.”
Benny stiffened. “A gunshot? Lucy—”
Lucy’s hands flew up, covering her face. “I saw a hand holding the gun, Benny. I didn’t see his face… but I saw the wristwatch. That same silver watch Marcel always wears. And then… I heard his voice. I know his voice. It was him.”
Silence settled heavily between them.
Finally, Benny swallowed. “Lucy… are you saying… You think Mr. Marcel… killed someone?”
Lucy’s hands lowered slowly. Her blue eyes glistened with tears. “Don't think, Benny. I know what I heard. It was him.”
Benny’s lips parted, then pressed into a line. Her mind spun. Marcel Safari—owner of the Safari Company, polished, untouchable, respected. Could it really be?
She reached for Lucy’s hands, gripping them tightly. “Lucy, listen to me. You didn’t see his face. You saw a watch, and you heard a voice—”
“I know his voice!” Lucy snapped, her words desperate. “It was Marcel!”
Benny shook her head gently, squeezing Lucy’s hands. “But voices can sound alike, and watches—anyone can wear the same watch. You can’t be too sure. Please, don’t convince yourself it was him if you didn’t see him directly. That’s dangerous, Lucy. Very dangerous.”
Lucy blinked, confusion and fear twisting inside her. “But Benny—”
“No, listen.” Benny pulled her into a tight embrace, “I believe you’re scared. I believe you saw something. But until you know for certain, don’t say it aloud. Don’t even whisper it again. Do you understand me? For your own safety.”
Lucy’s arms wrapped around Benny, clinging to her as though her friend was the only solid ground left. “I was so scared, Benny,” she whispered. “I thought I’d never get out alive.”
“I know,” Benny murmured, stroking her back. “I’m so, so sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me the most. I can’t believe this happened to you.”
Lucy buried her face against Benny’s shoulder, trembling as Benny held her tighter, like she could shield her from the shadows still lingering from the night before.
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The Safari Mansion
Meanwhile, across town, silence weighed differently. In Marcel Safari’s opulent mansion, the atmosphere wasn’t shaken by fear—it was laced with power and controlled tension.
Ethan stood rigid, eyes locked on his brother. His jaw was taut, his fists clenched by his sides, his anger restrained but palpable.
Marcel, ever the calm presence, turned his back, striding to his towering wall of wines. His fingers drifted over bottles of French Bordeaux, Italian Barolos, Spanish Riojas—rare vintages worth fortunes. Finally, he chose one.
The cork gave a soft pop. Marcel poured the rich crimson liquid into two crystal glasses, the sound unnervingly serene. He turned, extending one glass to Ethan.
Ethan didn’t move. His stare was cold, unyielding.
Marcel smirked faintly, raising his own glass and swirling it. “You always take life too seriously, hermano (brother).”
“Why did you call me here, Marcel?” Ethan's voice was low, sharp.
Marcel sipped his wine, savoring it before answering. “Chill, Mateo.”
The name was like salt in a wound.
“Don’t call me that,” Ethan snapped, stepping forward, his voice a warning.
Marcel’s lips curled, amused at his brother’s fury. “Fine. Fine.” He set his glass down, his tone shifting. “I didn’t call you here to fight.”
Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “Then why?”
Marcel leaned against the polished table, his gaze steady. “Because Abuelo(Grandfather) has summoned us. He’s called a family council.”
Ethan’’s breath stilled. The weight of that word—council—wasn’t lost on him. It meant power. Secrets. Bloodlines. And danger.
Marcel’s tone hardened. “We’re expected in Medellín. No excuses.”
The brothers stood in silence, the air between them charged with history, resentment, and unspoken truths.
And somewhere across the city, Lucy’s fear and the brothers’ power were on a collision course neither of them yet understood.
- Writer
