Chapter 2: Blood on White Marble
1077 Words
"ELENA!"
The gunman's voice cut through the chaos.
Another shot exploded.
Luca shoved me behind a marble column just as the bullet struck the floor where we'd been seconds earlier.
The impact sent shards flying.
People screamed.
The ballroom dissolved into panic.
Guests rushed for the exits, knocking over chairs and tables in their desperation to escape.
I pressed myself against the column, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"What is happening?" I shouted.
Luca didn't answer.
His attention remained fixed on the gunman.
A third shot rang out.
One of Luca's men tackled the assassin from the side.
The gun skidded across the floor.
For a brief moment, relief washed through me.
Then the gunman pulled a knife.
The crowd screamed even louder.
Everything happened at once.
The assassin slashed at the guard.
Another man rushed in.
A table overturned.
Champagne glasses shattered across the marble floor.
The orchestra had vanished.
The music was gone.
Only fear remained.
"Stay here."
Luca's voice was calm.
Too calm.
Before I could respond, he stepped away from the column.
I grabbed his sleeve.
"Are you insane?"
His eyes dropped to my hand.
For some reason, that felt more dangerous than the gunfire.
"Probably."
Then he walked away.
Straight toward the fight.
I stared after him.
Most people would run.
Most people would call security and hide.
Luca did neither.
The assassin saw him coming.
For a second, the man's face twisted with panic.
Not anger.
Not determination.
Panic.
As though Luca approaching him was worse than being arrested.
The realization made my stomach tighten.
Who exactly had my family promised me to?
The fight ended almost instantly.
The assassin lunged.
Luca caught his wrist.
There was a sharp c***k.
The knife clattered onto the floor.
The man screamed.
Several guests turned away.
Others froze in horror.
Luca didn't even seem out of breath.
His men swarmed the attacker seconds later.
The struggle was over.
Just like that.
The ballroom fell into an uneasy silence.
Broken only by distant crying and the sound of shattered glass crunching beneath shoes.
I looked around.
White marble.
Red blood.
The contrast was impossible to ignore.
A woman sat on the floor clutching her ankle.
Someone helped her stand.
A waiter knelt beside an overturned table, shaking.
The entire room looked different now.
Like a beautiful painting someone had dragged a knife across.
My gaze returned to the assassin.
Two men forced him to his knees.
Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
Yet he wasn't looking at Luca.
He was looking at me.
Directly at me.
The same way he had before the shooting started.
A chill crawled down my spine.
Luca noticed.
Nothing escaped him.
He followed the assassin's gaze until it landed on me.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
The assassin laughed.
The sound was rough.
Broken.
Unsettling.
One of Luca's men struck him across the face.
The laughter stopped.
The smile didn't.
"Search him," Luca said.
His voice carried easily through the room.
One of the guards immediately obeyed.
The man's pockets were emptied onto a nearby table.
Wallet.
Phone.
Keys.
A folded piece of paper.
The guard handed it to Luca.
For the first time all night, genuine interest crossed his face.
He unfolded it.
Read it.
Then read it again.
Something changed.
Not much.
Just enough.
A slight narrowing of his eyes.
A tension in his jaw.
The kind of reaction people made when something didn't make sense.
I pushed away from the column.
"What is it?"
Nobody answered.
My patience snapped.
"What is it?"
Luca folded the paper.
Slowly.
Carefully.
As if considering something.
Then he looked at me.
"You should go home."
I stared at him.
"What?"
"You heard me."
My laugh came out sharp.
"No."
Several heads turned toward us.
I didn't care.
"You don't get to tell me what to do."
His expression remained unreadable.
"The attack is over."
"Clearly."
"Then leave."
The assassin laughed again.
Louder this time.
Everyone turned toward him.
Blood stained his teeth.
His gaze remained locked on me.
"Tell her," he said.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
The man grinned.
"Tell her what was written on that paper."
The ballroom seemed to hold its breath.
I looked from the assassin to Luca.
Then back again.
"What paper?"
The assassin ignored me.
Instead, he spoke directly to Luca.
"You weren't supposed to find it this soon."
One of the guards grabbed his shoulder.
Hard.
The man winced.
Still smiling.
The sight made my skin crawl.
Luca stepped forward.
"What does it mean?"
The assassin tilted his head.
"You really don't know?"
The silence stretched.
For the first time since meeting him, Luca looked irritated.
Not angry.
Not furious.
Irritated.
Which somehow felt worse.
The assassin laughed again.
Then his eyes shifted toward me.
"Ask your father."
My stomach dropped.
Every instinct told me I wasn't going to like whatever came next.
Luca's phone rang.
The sharp sound cut through the tension.
He answered immediately.
The conversation lasted less than thirty seconds.
Whatever was said on the other end erased the last traces of calm from his face.
The moment he hung up, every man around him straightened.
Waiting.
Watching.
Luca slipped the folded paper into his jacket.
Then he looked at me.
"We're leaving."
I folded my arms.
"I'm not going anywhere with you."
"You are."
"No."
The corner of his jaw tightened.
The first visible c***k in his composure all night.
I almost felt victorious.
Almost.
Then another voice interrupted.
"Sir."
One of his men approached quickly.
The man looked pale.
Nervous.
Luca turned toward him.
"What?"
The guard swallowed.
"We found a second body."
The ballroom fell silent again.
I frowned.
"What second body?"
Nobody answered.
The guard continued speaking.
"Behind the kitchen."
My pulse quickened.
"There was identification on him."
Luca's expression darkened.
The guard hesitated.
For the first time all night, he seemed reluctant to continue.
"Who was it?" Luca asked.
The man's eyes flickered toward me.
Then back to Luca.
My stomach twisted.
Suddenly, I didn't want to hear the answer.
Didn't want to know.
But it was too late.
The guard took a breath.
"It's your future father-in-law, sir."
Everything inside me stopped.
No.
No, that wasn't possible.
My father had been at the gala.
I'd seen him.
Hadn't I?
The room blurred around the edges.
Luca's gaze snapped toward me.
The assassin started laughing again.
And this time, nobody tried to stop him.
- Writer
