Apparently, Kairo has kidnapped me… though the word feels wrong in my mouth. He insists I was dangerously close to blowing his mission apart, maybe even blowing him up. I don't know what that means. Was it literal? A bomb? Or did he mean I was about to expose him and unravel everything he's been building? He never explains, and the silence gnaws at me.
Still, this doesn't feel like kidnapping. There are no ropes cutting into my wrists, no damp cells stinking of mould and blood. Instead, I'm confined to the same room he locked me in on the first day: clean, quiet, almost sterile. The air hums faintly with the rhythm of the ventilation, too controlled, too perfect.
I'm not interrogated. He doesn't demand secrets about the FBI or our mission. He doesn't torture me and doesn't even speak much. I'm simply… kept, watched, perhaps, removed from the world.
A maid arrives three times a day with food. She tastes it first, a ritual of reassurance, proving there's no poison. Her calmness unsettles me more than any threat could. It's as if this captivity is meant to feel safe, even humane.
And yet, the lock on the door is real. The silence outside is real. My inability to reach anyone in the FBI, allies, anyone… is real. I am contained, and I cannot fathom why.
It feels like a vacation. During the three days of my stay here, I have not stepped a foot outside this room. They won't let me out. Of course they are guarded because of my presence.
I wonder if anyone from the FBI is wondering about my disappearance. Caleb must have informed the headquarters. What was their response? How are they thinking of dealing with it? Is the mission still continuing without me? Would they look for me?
Click… The sound of a door unlocking brought me back to reality; it was Kairo. "Follow me," he ordered and I obeyed regardless of my temper. I have to play safe while being here and as I am inside the house, I could use the opportunity to investigate and find a way out.
I am seeing the house for the first time. I stepped out, finally. The door behind me clicked shut, but I didn't turn around. I was too busy trying to breathe.
The hallway spilled into something unreal, a foyer so polished it looked like the floor had been carved from night itself. Black marble, veined with white, stretched out like a mirror trying to remember its own cracks. In the centre, a round table stood like it had always been waiting. A black sphere sat on top, still and perfect, and beside it, a thin stream of water rose quietly, like the house was exhaling.
Then I looked up. The chandelier was ridiculous. Massive. Gold and glass tangled together like frozen fire, throwing light across the walls in sharp little shards. It didn't just hang… it performed. I felt like I'd walked into a painting I wasn't supposed to touch.
I moved forward, slowly, like the air had weight. And then the living room hit me.
It was taller than I expected… like a cathedral dressed in velvet. The windows arched high, pouring sunlight onto everything: the brown velvet sofa that curved like a question, the gold-trimmed ottomans, and the glass coffee table that gleamed like it knew secrets. The chandelier here was even bigger, dripping with crystals that caught the light and shattered it across the walls like stars trying to escape.
I didn't say anything. I couldn't. I just followed quietly, waiting for the next command. "Take a seat," he gestured at the velvety sofa that fell behind me. It felt so soft and comfortable under my weight.
This got me thinking: these rich people had these luxuries their whole lives, and that's why they don't care about a poor man's struggle.
"You have been here for too long. I should show you around the house." His voice is calm, but his presence is so dominating that the whole area around him appears dark and obliged to obey him.
"Why? " The word slipped out, strange, like it wasn't mine. My own voice felt borrowed… maybe fear twisting it. No. That's not possible.
"Because you are not a prisoner." He leaned back as a man behind him whispered something in his ears. He dismissed him with a hand gesture. We stayed seated for a while in silence.
The silence was irritating yet I dared not to break it. His calmness, his composure, and his presence are bending my mind against my will. I felt like obeying him is the right thing to do yet I know very well I won't do it. He sat there like there was no one in front of him.
"I asked something," I finally spoke after much compiling in my mind. He looked up, his dark green eyes piercing into my soul and seeing through me. It's like he can tell how his presence is affecting my choices and words that I am not admitting. He stared at me for a while until a loud voice echoed through the main hall. "I am here." A male voice, deep and a bit raspy. I have definitely heard this voice before. There was cheerfulness in his voice, like a kid calling for his mother as he returned from school.
I turned back to see who it was and a single glance was enough to know. It was the man whom I met in the convenience store that night. The man who told me someone might be jealous if I talk about the handsomeness of other men.
He smiled at me as our eyes met for a split second. "Hello." He grinned. I was too bemused to think about what was going on. Why are they all connected? Would he be connected to them? Is he still in the drug business? Is it possible they know him?
"Hello? ..." He waved his hand. "Hello…" I took a long pause to collect my thoughts. He sat on the sofa beside mine. Kiaro seemed uninterested in any sort of conversation.
"You remember me, right? " He enquired. I do actually; I remember it vividly. My memory is pretty good in this case. I remember people once I meet them, and it takes years to forget them. Many people may consider a good memory a gift but it's more like a curse. Remembering every bit of information, every pain, every guilt and every disappointment.
"Yes," I replied. He smiled again. He has quite a cheerful personality. "Let me properly introduce myself… I am Matteo D'Marno, the youngest of the family. You can call me Matteo." I nodded and he continued. "And I know you very well. But I am not sure what I should call you. Mira works, right? " He questioned.
"How do you know? " My face turned dark at the fact that not only Kairo but also his brother knew me and my real identity. How is it even possible?
He looked at Kaior confused. "You didn't tell her? " He pointed his finger at me. I also stared at Kario for answers. "There is no need." He grabbed his cell phone from the table and walked out. "As you are here, you can give her a house tour." He placed his order. "You haven't done that yet? Bro…" He judged him for what? They basically kidnapped me but it doesn't seem like it now. Why are they treating me like I am some guest that needs to stay over for a few days?
Kario didn't answer and left the room. I don't know where he went afterwards. "I am sorry for his rude behaviour. He is weird." Matteo apologised on his behalf… Why? Who am I to them?
"Why am I here? Why are you guys treating me like a guest? " I asked and I need answers. Matteo seems like a person who would answer if asked anything.
"Kairo wanted to get you here." He glanced at the entrance to make sure he was not being watched. I also looked in that direction. "So, we kidnapped you but it's not for the reason you think. I can only say this much." He winked.
He got up. "I'll be back and give you a house tour. Give me some time; I need to freshen up," and left me in the big room that's haunting me with my thoughts. There are guards everywhere in this house so they don't worry much about me running away. I can't escape from all the guards and I am sure this house is in some sort of deserted place in case I do run away; there won't be a way for me.
These people designed their house for maximum security and hideout. Running away would be hard but not impossible but first I need to get the information and details on his mission and on the house surroundings.
"Do you want something to eat or drink? " an elderly lady asked. I haven't seen her, maybe because she didn't come into my room and I didn't come out of the room I was locked in. Weird enough for me to be comfortable in his household.
"No, thank you." She nodded and left. The silence left me wondering again how the FBI would have reacted to the news of me being abducted. Is it possible that he wanted the FBI to abort the mission in return for my safety? I don't think so. If the mission commands are directly from the president, then there is no way they are going to worry about a female's life.
I am just another agent who is good at her work that they could find more. I am stuck in a loop of unfortunate events. I don't even know where the loop started and how would I be able to break through it?
I don't really believe in god but if there is someone out there looking at everything and still deciding to let things be how they are and not doing anything to change it, then I think there is no need for God to exist.
I walked over to the door that connects the living room to the outside lawn. Fresh air was coming in, soft and cool. I think this house is in the northern part of the country, somewhere in Oured. I leaned against the frame of the door and relaxed my thoughts.
Although I need to be on high alert inside this house, letting myself have some peace of mind isn't a bad option. The situation I am in won't change. The view in front of me is telling me there is no way I can run away. I can't even see the door outside. Maybe I am on the wrong side but I also can't see the fence or wall.
"I am back," Matteo called out. I don't know how long I stayed there, lost in my thoughts. "Come, let's give you a house tour so you won't be lost." The same grin has been on his face since he saw me.
I walked behind him. He showed me around the house and he started from the living room, as we were already there. He kept talking about the room. The house is double-storey. The ground level has one master bedroom and a vast library that is also Kairo's workspace.
A kitchen that is so clean, so beautiful, so vast. The kitchen was connected to the lawn. I guess the house is in the middle and grass is stretched all around it. The whole kitchen is properly ventilated. "If you want to eat anything, you can ask Aunt Aisa. She is in charge of food and kitchen," Matteo said. The same elderly lady was there. Aisa, most likely she is the head chief. I nodded and we walked away. She gave me a smile as I passed by her.
"On the upper level are three rooms. One for each but Kairo usually uses the ground-level master bedroom." He uttered.
"So I was locked into Kairo's bedroom?" I looked at him in utter shock. "Well, he has his rules; as long as you don't interpret his mission, he won't hurt you." He explained in a rush and walked away. "But why only me?" I dragged him back into the conversation he was trying to avoid. "Aren't you the most clever and successful FBI agent?" He answered with a question. Even if I am, that doesn't make any sense; Kairo, who is known for his ruthlessness, can't be this gentle.
"How do you know me?" He is trying to brush off the conversation, but I am not going to do that. If he is blunt enough to say things without thinking, he better answer my question.
"I know everyone; it's not a big deal. I know most of your FBI agents." He struck a pose and winked. "I work with Kairo as well. It's just that no one knows about it yet." Yes, I was right about him. He will spill everything; maybe that's why he is never in the frontline.
"You know, I am assigned to investigate and get you guys behind the bar…" I paused to get his attention. "Then why are you telling me this?"
"Things are not how you think they are and I am not what you think I am." The smile disappeared from his face and an expression I cannot quite name surfaced. He got all serious with the answer. He is right. There is no way a person in their line of field would be so cheerful. He is creating an illusion for me to fall and lower my guard, and I was dumb enough to not register it earlier.
"You may think you know a lot and you are brilliant but what if I were to tell you what happened to you on that night? What if I were to tell you the name of that betrayer who is hiding in the depths of this country and is quite hard to get? " His voice got deeper and deeper with every sentence he was uttering. His face darkened and his jaw clenched as he closed the distance between us. "What if I were to tell you why you moved out of Varneth? What if you are the reason you become an FBI agent? " He knew what he was saying. They are not playing in this field. They know what we don't. They have access to something even we as FBI agents don't have.
"But don't worry, you are safe here." He returned to the cheerfulness that he had been showing me and led the way further.
He has such good acting skills that I fell for his illusion. He could be on the same level as Kairo. Matteo… Kairo… Edran… three brothers; could it be that they mislead us on the mafia king so we can't focus on who exactly is our target and focus on the wrong one? It doesn't appear like that though but I'll let the days unfold the rest of their story.