The Trap of Silence
The mansion was no longer the safe haven Amara once thought it was. Every shadow seemed heavier, every whisper sharper. She tried to act normal around Isabella, but inside, her nerves were fraying.
That afternoon, Lorenzo called her to the living room. He sat on the leather couch, phone in hand, his suit jacket draped carelessly over the armrest. His presence always filled the room, but today, it felt different—tenser.
"Amara," he said, his voice calm but commanding. "From now on, you and Isabella don't leave the estate without me or Matteo."
Her stomach flipped. "Why?"
He looked at her with those dark, unreadable eyes. "Because I said so."
It was an order, not an explanation. Amara lowered her gaze, her heart hammering. She wanted to ask more, to demand the truth—but something in his tone made her bite her tongue.
That night, after Isabella fell asleep, Amara wandered near the balcony overlooking the courtyard. She saw the guards moving in unusual patterns—more men than before, stationed at every corner. The mansion was on lockdown.
Her instincts screamed at her. Something's coming.
As she turned to leave, she noticed something tucked between the flower pots near the balcony door. A small folded note.
With shaky hands, she opened it.
"You're not safe here. Trust no one. Not even him."
Her blood ran cold. She looked around, but the courtyard below was empty. Whoever left the note had already vanished.
Clutching the paper tightly, she whispered into the night,
"What are you hiding from me, Lorenzo?"
But deep down, a darker question formed—
And what if you're the one I should fear the most?
Raises the paranoia—guards everywhere, Lorenzo clamping down on her movements, and now a mysterious note warning her against him.