꧁༺ 𝓦𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓽𝓱 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓦𝓱𝓲𝓶𝓼𝔂 ༻꧂

CHAPTER 9 : The Meeting

The door to the office clicks shut, the finality of it echoing through the penthouse. Nori, clutching her notebook tightly, pads back to her room. The plush carpet muffles her footsteps as she walks down the hallway, her eyes darting left and right. The voices in the living room grow louder, a symphony of Italian accents and stern tones that she tries hard to ignore. She reaches her sanctuary, the whimsical room that has become her haven, and locks the door behind her. The sudden silence is almost deafening, the only sound her own racing heart. She looks around, her eyes landing on the toys neatly arranged on the shelves, the stuffed animals that seem to watch her with knowing eyes. She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, trying to steady her nerves.

 The penthouse thrums with a new kind of energy as Asadi's men arrive. They move with the grace of shadows, setting up the living area for the meeting. The air is charged with a tension so palpable it seems to thicken the very oxygen in the room. The scent of cologne and leather blends with the faint hint of cigar smoke that clings to their clothes. They speak in hushed tones, their eyes scanning the surroundings with the precision of seasoned soldiers. As they take their seats around the large mahogany table, the whispers of their conversations cease as Asadi enters the room. He nods to them, his gaze sharp and focused. "Thank you for coming on such short notice," he says, his accent thick and authoritative. The room falls silent, all eyes on him as he takes his place at the head of the table. The sound of a zipper unzipping and the thump of a briefcase being placed on the table is like a drumroll, signaling the beginning of the meeting. The first man leans forward, a map unfurling before them, his voice low and urgent. Asadi's hand rests on the cool metal handle of a letter opener, his thumb tracing the intricate design absently as he listens, his mind racing with calculations and strategy.

In the safety of her room, Nori can't help but feel a tremor of fear ripple through her. The muffled sounds of the meeting are a stark reminder of the dangerous world Asadi moves in. She clutches her notebook to her chest, her heart racing in her ears. Despite the warmth and love Asadi has shown her, the reality of his life crashes down like a cold wave. She bites her lower lip, her eyes darting to the locked door. Her thoughts swirl like a tornado, mixing memories of Brad's cruelty with the gentle moments shared with her new daddy. With trembling hands, she opens the notebook to the page she was coloring, the childlike drawings a stark contrast to the gravity of the situation. Her crayons glide over the paper, each stroke an attempt to color in the gaps of fear. She draws a castle with a moat, a metaphorical representation of her new home, the penthouse, and the love that has become her fortress. The colors become bolder, more vibrant as she imagines herself safe within its walls

Antonia's voice, usually filled with a warm, maternal comfort, is now cold and hard as ice. She steps into the room, her heels clicking against the marble floor like the ticking of a time bomb. Her eyes scan the gathered men, each one of them looking up from their whispers to meet her steely gaze. "Asadi," she says, her voice cutting through the murmurs like a knife, "we have a situation."

Antonia strides into the office with the confidence of a woman who has seen the worst the world has to offer and still stands tall. Her eyes are like lasers, piercing through the fog of cigar smoke and the tension in the room. She stops at Asadi's side, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Brother," she says, her voice low but urgent, "we have a traitor among us." The room goes quiet as a tomb, the only sound the crackling of the fireplace. "A rat," she continues, her lips curling into a sneer, "has been whispering our secrets to the police."

 The room erupts like a volcano, men jumping to their feet and drawing their weapons with a flurry of curses that fill the air. The tapestries on the wall seem to quiver with the sudden violence of the scene, the shadows dancing in a macabre dance as the men's faces contort with rage. Amidst the chaos, one of the lesser-known members, Milo, panics. He's new to the organization, and the gravity of the situation is clear in his wide eyes. He fumbles with his gun, the clatter of metal on the floor making Nori's heart leap in her chest as she hears it from her room. She huddles under her bed, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. The crayons scattered on the floor seem a mockery of the innocence she's desperately clinging to. The door to her room bursts open, the wood splintering like the shattered remains of a dollhouse, revealing Milo, sweat beading on his brow, his eyes wild and crazy. He whispers a hasty , his voice almost creepy, "I'm sorry, little one, I didn't mean to scare you." He quickly shuts the door, leaving her trembling in the wake of his escape