C131 Safe For Now

The estate buzzed with tense energy, a palpable reminder that something had gone terribly wrong.

The sun was sinking into the horizon, casting the grounds in a golden-orange haze that should have felt peaceful.

But the air was thick with unease.

Guards rushed back and forth, their normally stoic faces marked with urgency as their radios crackled with overlapping reports.

Annabelle sat on one of the lounge chairs in the sprawling garden just outside the estate's main house, her body trembling despite the warm evening breeze.

Her vision swam as she fought to clear her head from the lingering effects of the drug that had knocked her unconscious.

She felt as though her limbs were weighed down by lead, and the memory of those fleeting, terrifying moments replayed in her mind on a loop.

Her dark hair was dishevelled with strands sticking to her damp forehead.

She clutched the edges of the soft, cream-coloured shawl one of the maids had draped over her shoulders in a futile attempt to ground herself in the present.

She was dressed in simple black leggings and an oversized burgundy sweater, a comfortable outfit she’d thrown on earlier that morning.

Now, they felt heavy and suffocating, reminders of how easily she’d been overpowered.

Antonia appeared in the doorway of the mansion, her stiletto heels clicking against the polished tiles as she descended the steps with her usual air of authority.

She was impeccably dressed, as always, in tailored white trousers and a silky emerald blouse that shimmered faintly under the dying light.

Her lips painted a bold red, were set in a line of concern, though her sharp eyes scanned the chaos with calculated precision.

“Annabelle,” she called, her voice unusually soft as she approached.

She crouched down in front of her, placing a manicured hand lightly on Annabelle’s knee. “Are you okay? I came as soon as I heard.”

Annabelle blinked at her, her lips trembling as she tried to form words.

“I... I don’t know,” she admitted finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t really remember... I just woke up in their arms and I told them to bring me here. They said he tried to take me out of the estate.”

Antonia’s brow furrowed as her gaze flicked toward the nearest guard, who stood a respectful distance away, his hand resting on the weapon at his hip.

“Who was it?” she asked sharply, though her tone remained measured for Annabelle’s sake.

“One of Mr Virelli’s men,” the guard answered, his voice clipped. “He had her stashed in the spare tyre compartment of his car. We stopped him at the gate during a routine check.”

“One of my brother’s men?” Antonia asked in a disbelieving tone. “Who?”

“He was identified as Calico, Miss. Learnt he’s new.”

Annabelle sucked in a sharp breath, her hands clenching the shawl tightly. “He... he killed himself,” she said, her voice trembling. “I heard them say he shot himself before they could restrain him.”

The guard nodded to Antonia’s questioning look, “That’s correct, Miss.”

Annabelle closed her eyes, the image of a lifeless body superimposing itself onto her foggy memories.

The thought sent a shiver coursing through her, and Antonia’s grip on her knee tightened slightly, a silent gesture of reassurance.

“I…” Annabelle began, her voice breaking. “I think... I remember two men. Not just one. I...I don’t know. They…he came from behind me.”

The guard exchanged a brief look with Antonia before speaking. “We only apprehended the one man, Miss Whitaker,” he said carefully. “It’s possible your memory is... fragmented from the drugs.”

Annabelle nodded weakly, though unease twisted in her gut.

Had there really been another man, or was her mind playing tricks on her?

She couldn’t be sure.

Antonia rose gracefully to her feet, brushing imaginary dust off her trousers. “It’s over now,” she said firmly. “You’re safe, and that’s all that matters.”

She hesitated before adding, “Dante’s measures worked. This estate is practically impenetrable, and his men are... thorough.”

Annabelle glanced up at her, her chest tightening with a mix of gratitude and frustration. “Dante,” she whispered, the name slipping from her lips like a prayer. “Where is he?”

Antonia’s expression softened, though there was something guarded in her eyes. “He’s been busy,” she said smoothly. “There are... pressing matters he needs to attend to. But he’ll come back when the time is right.”

Annabelle’s throat tightened. “I miss him,” she admitted to herself in her frazzled thought. “I would give anything just to see him right now. Even if it’s just to have him glowering at me.”

As if she could hear her thoughts, Antonia’s smile was small but knowing as she said, “He’ll come back, Annabelle. He always does.”

Annabelle nodded, though her heart felt heavy with doubt.

She gazed out at the estate grounds, where the sun had finally dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the perfectly manicured lawns.

Somewhere out there, Dante was fighting battles she couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

The note from earlier flashed in her mind.

A stark reminder of the danger she was in.

The words, scrawled in crimson ink, had felt like a direct stab to her heart: “You’re next if you don’t stop being stubborn.”

She hadn’t told anyone about the note yet.

Somehow, she was not sure who to tell and who might be listening.

The dead animal, note and kidnapping had happened here after all.

Somehow, she just knew she wouldn’t be able to trust anyone else with this but Dante.

“And he had to choose this moment to stay away.” she thought forlornly as she vaguely thought that none of this had happened while he was here.

“Let’s get you inside,” Antonia said, breaking her reverie. “You need rest.”

Annabelle allowed herself to be guided back toward the house, her legs unsteady beneath her.

As they passed the guards stationed at the entrance, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of paranoia.

Had one of them been involved?

How could she trust anyone now?

As they stepped into the cool, opulent interior of the mansion, Annabelle glanced over her shoulder one last time.

Slightly obscured by the trees lining the sidepaths, the estate’s gates loomed in the distance, a symbol of both safety and confinement.

She was safe, for now.

But the shadows felt closer than ever.