The Threefold Secret

Chapter 10

The commotion in the hallway drifts away, and the Casanova brothers, accompanied by their dubious entourage, disappear down the corridor. I sit motionless, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The revelations from their conversation churn in my mind like a storm. My life is now a target, marked by these dangerous men. The realization settles heavily on me-I've become a pawn in their ruthless game.

I take a deep, shuddering breath, forcing myself to discard the crumpled newspaper. The tension inside me feels like a live wire, sparking with anger and resolve. I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms, trying to suppress the rising fear.

"I'll make you eat your words for calling me a meddling bitch, Casanova," I whisper venomously, each word laced with cold, steely resolve.

Determined to see this through, I turn to leave but collide with a solid, hard chest. I stumble back, my heart racing.

I look up to see Zane Donovan, his imposing figure blocking my escape. For the third time, he's caught me in the act of my desperate, clumsy plans.

"That's a terrible disguise," he states, his voice dripping with sardonic amusement.

"Mr. Donovan-Ah... There you are!" I stammer, my voice betraying my nervousness. He raises an eyebrow, his expression a mix of curiosity and irritation.

"I-I was looking for you," I blurt out, my mind scrambling for an excuse.

"In front of Casanova's office?"

I scramble for words, my gaze darting around. "I- I got a bit lost. Y-you see... I came here to, uh... To..."

I pause, thinking hard.

"To confess! Yes... confess. Oh God, I've fallen in love with you and I just want to smash my lips against yours!" I declare dramatically, avoiding eye contact as if confessing to an unseen crowd.

His piercing gaze locks onto mine as he steps closer, closing the gap between us. I stumble back, clutching my purse as if it could shield me from the force of his presence.

"Oh yeah? In a disguise?" he questions, his voice a low rumble as his face inches closer to mine. I press my back against the wall, my breath shallow and ragged.

"This? A disguise-? Pfft... I just thought you, uh... you like bold lipstick and... the color red?"

His hand moves with a swift, deliberate motion, yanking my hat from my head and tossing it aside. The gesture feels like a brutal exposure, leaving me vulnerable and bare.

"Uhuh..."

His fingers trail up my neck, his touch firm yet unnervingly gentle as they grip my chin. In one fluid movement, he tilts my face up, and I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for the impact of his gaze.

His thumb grazes my lips, then moves deliberately to smear the red lipstick across my cheek.

My breath hitches, the intensity of his touch sending shivers down my spine. I shiver, feeling the pressure of his breath against my ear, his presence overwhelming.

"Thought you wanted to kiss me, Miss Steele? Why so scared?" he growls, his voice a dark, intoxicating whisper.

His hand travels down to my neck, his fingers curling around it with a possessive grip. I feel his fingers encircle me, the pressure making it hard to breathe. My eyes flutter open, locking onto his steely gaze filled with unspoken menace.

"I'd let your bratty talk pass, but lying to me through your teeth? That has consequences, my dear." His grip tightens, cutting off my air supply. I grasp at his wrist, gasping as my vision starts to blur.

"Lying to me? Do you not have fear, Miss Steele? Should I get it out of you?" he demands, his voice a harsh whisper.

"Why are you here. Tell me the fucking truth, or I rip that tongue out."

I nod weakly, the pain forcing my compliance.

"Ha-Ah... W-working on my c-case," I manage to gasp, my voice barely a whisper.

His expression hardens, and for a fleeting moment, a shadow of contemplation crosses his face. He seemed confused for a good second. Then, with a sudden, brutal squeeze, he tightens his grip, the pressure feels as if it might snap my neck.

"Get out of my sight," he growls, his voice dripping with venom before he releases me.

I collapse to the floor, my body trembling violently as I clutch my neck, gasping for the precious air I'd almost lost. Tears stream down my cheeks, unbidden and warm against my skin.

And just like that, he's gone again, leaving me alone in the silent corridor, except for my silent sobs and quivering gasps.

Trouble is closing in- a stalker is obsessed with me, a drug lord seeks revenge, and now I've made an enemy of a billionaire.

---

The journey home felt like an endless stretch of cold and numbness.

It was 4 p.m., and the bus was crammed with people, each face a blur of indifferent expressions. I sank into my corner seat, my body still trembling from the encounter.

The claustrophobia of the bus only compounded my sense of isolation. Suffocation was the last feeling I wanted to feel, especially after that strangling incident.

I was on the edge of surrendering. The weight of being targeted by a criminal and then having my air supply cut off by a powerful man who seemed to be a relentless specter in my life was almost too much to bear.

I leaned against the window, closing my eyes against the cold glass, yearning for the warmth and comfort that felt so far out of reach. Fear, a sensation so foreign to me, gnawed at my insides.

I felt like a hamster in a cage, trapped and vulnerable, with predators circling outside.

My phone buzzed, a jarring interruption to my dark thoughts. I look at the screen and saw a message from the stalker.

Mentally exhausted, I hesitated before opening the message, dreading another twist in my already convoluted day.

"You okay?"

I stared at the words, the simplicity of the question striking a chord deep inside me. I couldn't bring myself to respond, my eyes welling up as a tear splashed onto the screen.

"Why ask?" I typed back, my fingers trembling as I try to mask my true feelings. I was unnerved by the timing of his question. Was he somehow watching me, seeing my distress?

A minute later, his reply appeared: "The red compliments you well."

I couldn't decipher if his comment was taunting, referencing the smeared lipstick across my cheek, or if he was genuinely admiring the red scarf draped around my neck. I felt a pang of confusion mixed with frustration.

So he was watching me right now, just great. My phone tings again.

"Keep your chin up, Nadia."

I shut off the screen and shoved my phone into my purse, feeling as though a heavy shroud of grey had enveloped me. I was lost, facing what felt like an insurmountable dead end.

The bus finally reached my stop, and I trudged off, each step weighed down by exhaustion. I moved with mechanical slowness towards my apartment, feeling the chill of the evening air seep into my bones.

Minutes later, I fumbled with my keys, finally unlocking the door to my apartment.

As I stepped inside, my gaze was drawn to a beautiful bouquet of roses resting on the table. Beside them, a box of chocolates and a note caught my eye.

The note read simply: "Sweets, for the sweetest."