Lina’s POV
The service lift groaned like it was protesting my existence. I held the railing as it rattled downward, metal scraping against metal, each second stretching too long. Above me, faint but unmistakable, Carlino’s voice cut through the house.
Controlled.
Deadly.
“Lock the gates.”
The words weren’t shouted, but they held an unmistakable authority that beneath their calm delivery.
The lift jerked to a stop.
I pushed the door open into the dim pantry, the scent of flour and dried herbs hitting my nose. Voices echoed from the kitchen beyond. Bella was laughing too loudly — forced, nervous, bright, wrong.
She was buying me time.
Another voice thundered from somewhere deeper in the house.
“Find her.”
My pulse spiked.
I slipped through the pantry and into the back corridor,
