Chapter 13: The First Move
683 Words
Zarek gripped the stone where the message had been carved, knuckles bone-white. His eyes scanned every shadow, every window, every possible angle of attack. He didn’t speak.
Lucien stood a few feet behind him, wrapped in a robe, his bare feet wet from the morning dew. A guard offered to escort him inside, but he didn’t move. Couldn’t.
> “How did he get past security?” Lucien asked, voice low.
Renzo answered, grim. “We don’t know. He didn’t leave prints. No cameras caught him coming in or out. It’s like he walked through the walls.”
Zarek finally turned, his eyes locked on Lucien’s.
> “You’re not leaving my sight again.”
Lucien flinched. “Zarek—”
> “No. No more walks alone. No bookstore. No club. No city. You stay here. Under my roof. Under my rules.”
> “I’m not your prisoner.”
Zarek’s voice dropped to a growl. “No. You’re my weakness.”
---
That Night — A Hidden Room
Zarek led Lucien to a part of the mansion he had never seen before.
A steel door. A retinal scanner. A second keypad hidden behind a canvas painting.
Inside: dim lighting, cement walls, reinforced windows, and a single bed in the corner.
> “This is where you’ll stay when I’m not with you.”
Lucien looked around. “A panic room?”
Zarek didn’t answer. He just sat on the edge of the bed and took Lucien’s hand.
> “He’s not playing games. That message was meant for me, but the flower? That was for you.”
Lucien swallowed. “What does he want from me?”
Zarek looked up. “To take you apart. Slowly. And make me watch.”
Lucien shook his head. “You can’t keep me caged.”
Zarek’s eyes darkened. “If caging you means keeping you alive, I will. You can hate me for it. But you’ll hate me breathing.”
> “Zarek…”
> “I’ve already lost too much.”
---
Elsewhere — The Devil’s Table
Ciro sat at a long table in a velvet-lined room, surrounded by lesser criminals and shadowed men who owed him favors.
> “He’s afraid,” Ciro said softly, twirling a knife between his fingers. “I felt it today. That crack in his armor.”
One of the men leaned forward. “You want us to make a move on the estate?”
Ciro smiled. “No, no. Not yet. I want them to feel me first.”
He tossed something onto the table.
It was a photograph.
Lucien. But not the one from before.
> A new one.
> Taken today.
> In the courtyard.
Ciro traced his finger over it like a lover.
> “Let’s see how long it takes before Zarek truly understands what it means to be hunted.”
---
Midnight — Velenza Mansion
Lucien stood by the window in the hidden room, staring at the stars through bulletproof glass. Zarek had fallen asleep in the chair beside the bed, one hand resting on the pistol in his lap.
Lucien whispered into the night. “What are you afraid of, Zarek?”
But the only reply was the sound of footsteps in the hallway.
Quick. Quiet. Too quiet.
Lucien tensed. He walked toward the door—just as a shadow passed underneath it.
> Then a knock.
Just one.
Soft. Careful.
Not meant to wake Zarek.
> “Lucien…” a voice whispered through the door. Not Zarek. Not Renzo.
> “Come out, pretty thing. Just a moment. Just a look.”
Lucien’s blood turned to ice.
> “It’s him,” he whispered.
Zarek woke instantly, eyes sharp, hand on his gun. “What did you say?”
Lucien pointed to the door. “He’s here.”
But when Zarek flung the door open—
> No one.
Just silence. And a new message etched into the wall across the hallway.
> “Too slow, lover boy.”
Zarek’s hands shook for the first time in years.
---
- Writer
