Whisper in the Night|18+

Chapter 25 : The Game Begins

Author's POV:-

The clock ticked past midnight, its sound echoing through the silence like a heartbeat in an empty grave.

Kaira sat on the cold floor of her apartment, back against the wall, knees pulled close to her chest. The lights were off  only the faint orange glow of the streetlamp filtered through the blinds, striping her face in harsh shadows.

Tear tracks had dried against her skin, but her eyes... they weren't the same anymore. The warmth that once lived there  the teasing glint, the soft defiance  was gone. What remained was something hollow, dangerous. The kind of stillness that comes right before a storm.

The diary was gone.
Her mother's words  her only proof stolen.

Her fingers trembled as she clutched her phone, scrolling through her call history again and again. The same number glared back at her — unknown.
That voice still echoed in her head.
"Hope you're enjoying the diary, princess."

Her lips parted, a shaky breath leaving her. Then, almost too quietly, she whispered to herself,
"Who are you?"

No answer came, of course. Just the hum of the city outside and the hollow silence inside her.

She stared at the number again, her thumb hovering over it. Her mind screamed don't, but her heart  her fractured, desperate heart  didn't listen.

Before she knew it, she pressed call.

The line rang once. Twice. Then — click.

No voice. Just a slow, deliberate silence that stretched too long, thick enough to make her skin crawl. She could hear faint breathing on the other end  steady, unhurried, like he was smiling.

Her voice came out low, raspy from all the crying.
"I want to meet you."

A pause. Then  a laugh.
Not loud. Not mocking. Just quiet... and terrifyingly certain.

"I knew it," the man said finally, his voice silk and venom. "You'd come to me sooner or later, princess."

Kaira's grip on the phone tightened until her knuckles turned white.
"Stop calling me that," she hissed.

"But it suits you," he replied easily, the amusement in his tone cutting through her anger. "You were raised like one. Trapped like one. Lied to like one."
A small sound  maybe the scrape of a chair, maybe a deliberate gesture  came through the line.
"And now... you're finally curious enough to seek the truth."

Kaira's jaw clenched. "You think this is a game?"

"Oh, it is a game," he said, his voice softening. "One that started long before you were born. You're just... playing your turn now."

Something in her broke at those words. Her breath hitched, but she refused to sound weak.
"You said I'd know you soon. Tell me where to meet."

A pause — long enough for her heart to race painfully in her chest. Then, he chuckled.
"No, no, no, princess. I decide that. You don't walk into the lion's den on your terms."

Kaira's lips trembled, though she forced herself to sound calm. "And why should I trust you?"

"Because," he whispered, voice dipping lower, "I'm the only one who's ever told you the truth."

The line went dead.

Kaira sat there, staring at the phone pressed against her ear, hearing the faint buzz of the disconnected call. The silence that followed felt louder than the city outside.