A whisper in the dark
1035 Words
Chapter Four
Zara's heart pounded. The muffled thud downstairs hadn’t been loud, but it was enough to set every nerve in her body on edge. She wasn’t imagining it—Kian had heard it too. His reaction was too controlled, too deliberate.
He was prepared for this.
Kian’s fingers curled around the object he had pulled from the drawer—a sleek, black handgun. The sight of it sent a fresh wave of unease crashing through her.
"Stay here," he murmured. His voice was low, but it carried an authority that made it clear he wasn’t asking.
Zara didn’t move as he stepped toward the door, but her pulse was a wild drumbeat in her ears. Her body screamed at her to do something, but what? She didn’t even know what they were dealing with.
The air in the room felt heavier now, thick with something she couldn’t name.
Kian paused at the doorway, casting a glance over his shoulder. "Lock the door behind me."
Zara swallowed. "What if—"
"Just do it," he cut in. Then he was gone, slipping into the dimly lit hallway with the kind of silent precision that told her he had done this before.
The second the door shut, Zara’s fingers trembled against the lock. She twisted it into place, stepping back, eyes glued to the door as if it might burst open at any moment.
She forced a breath out. Think, Zara.
Her mind raced. Could this be a robbery? A break-in? But the security in this place was airtight. Whoever was downstairs hadn’t gotten in by accident.
And Kian—
She exhaled sharply. There was something in his reaction that unsettled her. He hadn’t looked surprised. He had looked… expectant.
Like he had been waiting for this.
The thought sent a chill through her.
Then—
A sound.
Faint but distinct.
Footsteps.
But not from downstairs.
They were in the hallway.
Zara froze, every muscle locking up as the realization sank in. Kian had gone downstairs. But someone else… someone else was up here.
Her breath caught as she took a cautious step back, her gaze darting toward the bathroom door. A place to hide.
But before she could move—
The door handle rattled.
Zara’s stomach clenched.
No.
It turned once.
Twice.
And then—
A soft chuckle. Low. Amused.
Her blood turned to ice.
"Zara," a voice murmured from the other side of the door.
She stopped breathing.
It wasn’t Kian.
She had never heard this voice before, but there was something chilling about it, something too familiar, like it had whispered through her nightmares before she had ever met the man on the other side.
The lock clicked.
Zara snapped out of her paralysis, spinning toward the bathroom. She barely made it two steps before the door slammed open behind her, crashing against the wall.
She whirled around.
And there he was.
A man, tall and lean, dressed in all black, his sharp features illuminated by the dim light spilling in from the hallway. His dark eyes swept over her with an eerie sort of patience, like he had all the time in the world.
Zara's stomach churned. He wasn’t surprised to see her.
He had come for her.
She took a shaky step back. "Who are you?"
The man tilted his head slightly, lips curving into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "No questions?"
Zara’s fists clenched at her sides. She didn’t dare look toward the bathroom again—it would only tell him she had thought of running.
His gaze flicked over her, assessing. Then, he sighed, almost as if he were disappointed.
"You really don’t know, do you?"
Zara’s breath hitched. "Know what?"
The man exhaled, stepping into the room fully. "How deep you’re in."
A prickle of fear climbed up her spine. "I don’t understand."
"You will," he murmured. "Soon enough."
Then, faster than she could react, he was moving.
Zara barely had time to stumble back before he grabbed her wrist, yanking her toward him. She twisted, instinct kicking in as she drove her knee up, aiming for his stomach.
But he was faster.
With one sharp motion, he blocked her, twisting her arm behind her back in a hold that sent a jolt of pain shooting through her shoulder.
Zara gasped. "Let go of me!"
The man hummed, leaning in slightly. "You're lucky I’m not the one you should be afraid of."
Before she could process what he meant, another voice cut through the thick silence.
"Step away from her."
Zara sucked in a breath.
Kian.
The tension in the room shifted instantly.
The man holding her didn’t flinch, but his grip loosened just slightly. "You’re late," he mused.
Kian stood at the doorway, g*n raised, eyes like steel. "That’s funny. I was about to say you’re early."
The stranger let out a quiet chuckle, but he didn’t release Zara. Instead, he leaned in a fraction more and murmured, "Tell me, Zara. Do you trust him?"
Her pulse spiked. "What—"
"Because you shouldn't," he whispered.
Then, with a sudden movement, he shoved her forward. Zara stumbled, catching herself against the edge of the bed just as the man darted toward the balcony doors.
A single gunshot rang out.
But by the time Zara turned, the man was gone.
The glass doors swayed slightly from the wind outside, the city lights flickering in the distance.
Silence.
Kian’s grip tightened on the g*n, his expression unreadable.
Zara’s breath came fast, her body still trembling from the encounter. She turned to him, eyes wide.
"What just happened?"
Kian didn’t answer right away. He ran a hand down his face, exhaling.
Then, in a voice quieter than before, he said—
"You need to leave, Zara."
Her stomach dropped. "What?"
"This was a mistake." He met her gaze, something unreadable in his expression. "You were never supposed to be part of this."
Zara’s heart pounded. "Part of what?"
But Kian only shook his head.
And for the first time since she had stepped into this deal, she realized—
It wasn’t just a dangerous game.
It was a war.
And she was now caught in the middle of it.
- Writer
