Chapter 4

• Chapter 4: A Darkness Not To Be Seen
• Lena's mind races as she stands outside the club, her pulse hammering against her ribs. He has thrown her out—tossed her aside as if she were nothing. But she isn't done. Not yet. Her stubborn nature refuses to let her back down, and the more he pushes, the more she wants to push back.
• Her eyes dart toward the entrance, scanning the bouncers, the lines of people waiting to get in, searching for an opportunity. And then, it comes. A young couple, their arms wrapped around each other, lost in their own little world, approaches the doors. Without hesitation, Lena slips closer, feigning distress.
• "Please," she begs, her voice laced with desperation. "My sister's inside, and I need to get to her. I wasn't supposed to leave—she's waiting for me, and I don't know how to get back in. I'm really worried about her."
• The woman exchanges a glance with her boyfriend, sympathy softening her features.
• "What happened?" she asks, concern evident in her tone.
• Lena bites her lip, adding a tremble to her voice. "We had a fight, and I stormed out. But now I can't reach her, and I'm afraid she'll leave without me."
• "Come on," the guy says with a shrug. "Let's help her out. We've all been there."
• They use their pass to get her through the entrance, and the second she steps inside, a triumphant thrill surges through her. She's back in. The club's pulse throbs around her, the music vibrating through the floors, but none of it matters. Her only focus is finding him.
• She scans the room, her heart pounding with anticipation. It doesn't take long. There he is—Luca, standing with a group of men in the far corner, speaking in hushed tones. His presence is undeniable, his aura commanding. Even from across the room, she can feel it. The tension in his stance, the quiet authority in his posture.
• She watches as he glances around, as if ensuring no one is watching, before slipping through a door at the back of the club. Her curiosity spikes. Where is he going? Why does he seem so cautious?
• She doesn't think. She just moves.
• Lena weaves her way through the crowd, her body brushing against strangers, her pulse quickening as she nears the door. Once she reaches it, she hesitates for only a second before slipping inside.
• The hallway is dimly lit, lined with heavy doors that seem to lead to private rooms. She spots him ahead, his powerful frame cutting through the corridor with ease. His broad shoulders, the rigid lines of his back—he moves with the kind of confidence that makes people step aside without question. But she isn't afraid. Not of him.
• She keeps her distance, following silently, barely breathing. He's cautious, pausing at one point to glance over his shoulder. Lena presses herself against the wall, her heartbeat loud in her own ears. When he finally stops in front of a door, she ducks behind a nearby storage bin, watching as he glances around one last time before stepping inside.
• He didn't lock the door.
• Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she stares at the slightly ajar entrance. The smart thing to do would be to turn around, to go back to the club floor and pretend she had never seen any of this. But she can't. Something inside her refuses to walk away.
• Taking a slow, steady breath, she creeps forward.
• And then, the explosion rocks the air.
• The sound is deafening. A violent, shattering burst that sends a jolt of terror through her veins. Lena gasps, her hands flying to her mouth as her body locks in place. Her heart slams against her ribs, a cold chill sweeping through her limbs.
• She forces herself to stay silent, to steady her breathing. Voices murmur from inside the room. Dangerous voices.
• "Who's there?" a low, lethal voice demands from within.
• Lena's blood runs cold. She takes a step back, panic clawing at her chest, but before she can flee, a strong hand seizes her wrist.
• She spins around, her breath catching as she meets Luca's dark, furious gaze.
• His grip is tight, his expression deadly. "What the hell are you doing here?" he snarls, his voice a mix of rage and disbelief. "Are you fucking insane or just suicidal?"
• Lena opens her mouth, but no words come out. She can't speak. Can't think. The sheer intensity in his eyes pins her in place.
• "I—I just wanted to talk to you," she manages, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't know—"
• "Shut up," he hisses, cutting her off. "Do you have any idea what you've just walked into?"
• He glances over his shoulder, his jaw clenching as he looks back at her, torn between frustration and something else. Something dangerous.
• Then, from inside the room, another voice.
• "Bring her in, Luca," it commands, cold and calculating. "Now."
• Luca stiffens. For the first time, she sees hesitation flicker across his features. But whatever internal battle he's fighting, it doesn't last long. His grip tightens on her wrist as he pulls her forward.
• "Don't say a word," he warns under his breath. "Not a single fucking word."
• Lena swallows hard as she steps into the room, her knees weak, her breath shallow.
• And then, she sees it.
• The body.
• Blood pools on the floor, dark and glistening under the dim light. The lifeless form of a man lies sprawled across the ground, a bullet wound in his forehead. The metallic scent of death fills the air, thick and suffocating.
• Lena's stomach lurches, bile rising in her throat. A scream claws its way up, but she bites it back, forcing it down. She can't afford to lose control. Not here. Not now.
• Her eyes flicker upward, landing on the man who had spoken.
• He's even more terrifying than Luca. Scarred, cold, exuding a kind of authority that sends a primal fear rippling through her. His gaze is sharp, calculating as he studies her.
• "Interesting," he says, voice like silk over gravel. "A witness. How... inconvenient."
• Lena's entire body locks up as he shifts his attention to Luca. "Do you know her?" he asks, eyes narrowing with suspicion.
• Luca doesn't hesitate. "No."
• "Are you certain?" The man tilts his head, studying them both. "She followed you quite deliberately for someone you don't know."
• "Just some club rat," Luca responds, his tone dismissive. "Probably looking for a thrill."
• The other man hums in thought before shrugging. "Makes things easier." His eyes lock with Lena's, devoid of emotion. "No connections. No loose ends."
• A slow smirk curls at the corner of his lips as he waves his fingers in a dismissive gesture. "You know what to do. Make it clean."
• Luca's posture tenses.
• Lena's stomach twists as realization sinks in.
• They're going to kill her.
• Her breath comes in short, panicked gasps as Luca's grip on her wrist turns iron-tight.
• "Wait," she pleads, finding her voice at last. "Please—I won't say anything. I swear. I didn't see anything."
• The scarred man laughs, the sound chilling in its emptiness. "Of course you won't," he agrees. "The dead rarely do."
• Terror claws through her, but deep beneath the fear, something else burns.
• She isn't ready to die.