Back at the estate…
Marco’s boots slammed against the gravel, echoing through the empty drive as he sprinted toward the estate
He didn’t stop running, even as he pressed a hand to his earpiece.
"Davide!"
He said, voice clipped, breath harsh.
"Domain’s outnumbered. Get men to his location now, the forest road off Via del Vento. Move fast!"
Davide didn’t ask questions.
"On it.", came the response, followed by the static click of confirmation.
Marco cut the line.
Ahead, the Hastings estate rose out of the darkness like a ghost tall, silent, wrong. The front gates hung half-open. No lights. No guards patrolling the perimeter.
Only shadows.
The guards at the main entrance stood stiff and uneasy, their flashlights trembling faintly in their hands. When they saw him coming, their expressions shifted from confusion to pure fear.
"Marco..."
One started, voice trembling.
"Move."
Marco said. His tone was calm, but it hit like a blade.
"Sir, we..."
"I said move."
He repeated, quieter now, deadlier.
"Before I break your neck."
Something in his voice made their bodies lock up. Then, shame flooding their faces, they stepped aside.
Marco brushed past them and pushed through the doors.
Inside, the air was heavy and wrong.
Every window was blacked out. The chandeliers overhead hung cold and dead, their crystals reflecting nothing. The only light came from faint slivers of moon through the tall windows, pale streaks crawling across the floor.
His boots echoed in the silence.
No humming of electricity.
No voices.
The estate felt abandoned, but it wasn’t. He could feel it breathing, waiting.
The grand staircase rose before him, the banister glinting faintly. Dust motes floated through the dim, still air, visible only when they crossed the moonlight.
He moved fast, silent, climbing two steps at a time.
Upstairs, the corridor was darker still. Every door was closed.
A faint, warm light spilled from beneath the library door.
Marco walked toward it, steps measured, body tense.
Then,
Click.
The sound sliced through the silence.
He didn’t turn immediately. His eyes flicked to the wall, to the shadow stretched long across it. The silhouette was familiar: tall, narrow shoulders, the faint tremor of hesitation in the grip.
Marco exhaled slowly.
"Put it down, Luca."
A shaky breath followed. Then the gun lowered.
When Marco finally turned, recognition flickered across Luca’s face. He exhaled in relief.
"Christ"
YOU ARE READING
Silent Scars
Teen FictionAfter enduring years of neglect and cruelty from her mother and stepfather, Ariana's life changes drastically when tragedy brings her under the guardianship of five brothers she's never met and they never even knew they had a sister. For her brother...
