The Sardinian night pressed against the glass walls of the lab, rain streaking down in rhythmic drumming. Upstairs, Scarlett waited, perched near the panoramic window that overlooked the restless sea. Her sketchbook lay forgotten beside her; her thoughts kept drifting to Nicolas. She knew he had gone downstairs to the private chamber beneath the lab — a secure, reinforced room where he could meet without prying eyes.
She traced her fingers along the edge of the glass, the tension in her chest growing. Nicolas had only gone to discuss business, he had assured her, but she couldn't help the flutter in her stomach every time she thought of him in that room. He had told her once that some decisions were dangerous, some knowledge better left unseen. Tonight, she would wait, silent and patient, unaware of the storm brewing beneath her.
Downstairs, Nicolas stood opposite Aras, the Greek mafia head. The room smelled faintly of electronics and polished steel. On the table lay the images of the latest weapons shipment — the ones that had caused tension across Europe. Aras's sharp gaze fixed on him.
"They say your shipment never reached the docks, Volkov," Aras said coldly. "And the men we sent… dead. You understand how that looks?"
Nicolas's jaw tightened. "I know exactly how it looks. But here's the truth — my original shipment was intercepted. The gang planted explosives. All my unique weapons? Destroyed."
Aras's eyes narrowed. "Destroyed? And who benefits from this?"
"The same group trying to create a rift between us," Nicolas said, voice low, deliberate. "They want you to doubt me. They sent a fake shipment afterward — identical in appearance, but all dummies. The only people who can tell the difference are me and my assistant, Matteo. They even disguised themselves as my men to attack your collection team, making it look like a mistake on my part."
Aras clenched his fists. "So you're telling me my men were killed because of their deception? That you had nothing to do with it?"
"Exactly," Nicolas said, his tone as sharp as steel. "They want this rift. They want you to believe I betrayed you, to create chaos while they move unseen. And it's working."
The Greek head's eyes glinted dangerously. "Then we act, but carefully. No one can know the truth yet. This… deception is dangerous."
As the two men continued to strategize, upstairs Scarlett felt a sudden chill. Something didn't feel right. She had stepped away from the window to check her sketches when a faint metallic click echoed from the entrance of the lab.
Matteo had warned Nicolas earlier about potential intrusions — but Scarlett didn't know that. Her heart raced as the faint shadow of someone moving across the upper lab caught her attention. Someone was entering. Not just a passerby, but an intruder. Her mind froze for a second, panic rising — whoever this was might see her, or worse, her sketches.
Downstairs, Nicolas's phone buzzed. Matteo's message appeared: Intruder in the upper lab. Ready to attack Scarlett. Possibly after your designs.
Nicolas's eyes darkened. "She's upstairs?" he muttered under his breath, already moving toward the hidden stairwell.
Upstairs, Scarlett's instincts screamed danger, but she couldn't see who it was yet. The lab's shadows twisted, and the unknown figure advanced with deliberate, silent steps, a sinister intent in every motion. Scarlett grabbed her sketchbook, holding it tight, ready to protect her work — unaware that she was about to be the target in a much larger game.
And as Nicolas descended the stairs, the storm outside clashing with the tension inside, the intruder paused at the threshold — a moment suspended between pursuit and revelation.
The lab was silent except for the hum of machines. Upstairs, Scarlett's breath hitched. Below, Nicolas's mind raced. Outside, the sea raged. And somewhere between the floors, danger had just crossed the line.
The first move had been made.