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Chapter 8

Author: T. Hush
last update publish date: 2026-01-16 16:43:17

I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, my heart still pounding. Every noise made me jump… footsteps in the hallway, a door closing somewhere, the hum of the old air conditioning unit.

I couldn’t relax.

After what felt like hours, I remembered my phone. I pulled it out of my pocket.

Still dead.

I needed to charge it. Required to call someone. Anyone. The police. The embassy. Someone who could help me get out of Italy.

I looked around the small room. There was a lamp on the bedside table. I followed the cord down to the wall.

The outlet.

I plugged in my phone and waited.

Nothing.

The charging symbol didn’t appear.

I unplugged it and tried again. Still nothing.

“No. No no no.”

I tried the other outlet near the desk. Dead.

The one in the bathroom. Also dead.

My chest tightened.

What kind of hotel had no working outlets?

I grabbed my key and headed for the door. I needed to complain. Someone needs to get this fixed. I couldn’t be stuck here with no way to contact anyone.

The hallway was pretty dim, with flickering fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. The carpet looked worn out and stained in places I’d rather not think about.

I made my way downstairs, my footsteps echoing in the stairwell.

The lobby was quiet.

Too quiet.

The desk was empty. No clerk. No one behind the counter.

I looked around. The lights were still on, but everything felt… off. Like the world had gone still.

“Hello?”

My voice echoed.

No answer.

I walked closer to the desk. “Hello? I need help with my room.”

Still nothing.

I leaned over the counter, looking for a bell or a phone. Anything.

That’s when I heard it.

A voice. Low. Calm.

“No one is here.”

I spun around so fast I almost lost my balance.

He was standing in the shadows near the entrance.

Enzo Santini.

My heart stopped.

He stepped forward into the light, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.

“Mr. Santini,” I breathed, backing up until I hit the desk.

“Nina.” He said my name like he’d been expecting to find me here. Like this was all part of some plan I didn’t understand.

“How did you…”

“How did I find you?” He tilted his head slightly. “Did you really think you could run from me?”

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. My legs felt like they’d turned to stone.

He took another step closer. “You’re smart, Nina. I’ll give you that. The tree was clever. Most people wouldn’t have thought of it.”

“Then why didn’t you stop me?” My voice came out barely above a whisper.

His eyes darkened. “Because I wanted to see how far you’d get before you realized something.”

“Realized what?”

“That there’s nowhere in this city I can’t find you.” He moved closer. Too close. “Nowhere you can hide that I don’t already own or won't buy.”

My back hit the desk. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe.” He reached out and grabbed my arm, yanking me forward. “But I’m the insane man who just became the owner of this hotel. About ten minutes ago, actually.”

My breath caught. “What?”

“You heard me.” His grip tightened. “The second you walked through those doors, I bought it. Cash. No questions asked. The previous owner was very motivated to sell.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?” He pulled out his phone with his free hand and held it up. An email. A contract. All signed and dated tonight. “Every person who worked here tonight has been paid to leave. The clerk. The cleaning staff. Everyone.”

My stomach dropped.

“So you see, Nina, you didn’t escape.” His voice was low. Dangerous. “You just changed which room of mine you were sleeping in.”

I tried to pull away, but his grip was iron.

“Let go of me.”

“No.” He shoved his phone back in his pocket and grabbed my other arm. “Not until you understand something.”

Before I could react, he spun me around and slammed me against the wall.

Hard.

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Comments (2)
goodnovel comment avatar
Dianella Dewett
so crazy ...
goodnovel comment avatar
Pretty Pretty
Shit is crazy… ...
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