After a moment of contemplation, she spoke up. “Well, let’s deal with this tomorrow. We need to come up with a solid plan and figure out how to minimize the impact on Adele. We must keep her away from this mess as much as possible.”
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“Alright.” Ariana nodded in agreement. “No need to rush; we can discuss this tomorrow.”
Their conversation flowed for a while before they ended the call.
The sudden silence in the villa was almost deafening to Ariana.
Melon had gone to keep Adele company at the Fredrick family’s place.
Since Ariana still had some work to deal with, she had come back to the villa alone.
Exhausted both physically and mentally from the day’s events, Ariana shed her clothes, ready to unwind in a soothing bath.
The warm water did wonders, washing away the tension and leaving her pleasantly drowsy.
Suddenly, a disturbance jolted Ariana from her peaceful state. A faint sound, like footsteps, drifted up from downstairs.
Ariana’s heart hammered against her ribs. She held her breath, straining to listen. The sound persisted, sending her scrambling out of the tub. Throwing on clothes and grabbing her phone, she crept downstairs to investigate.
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But the house was empty. Ariana brushed it off as tiredness-induced hallucinations, shaking her head as she returned to her work upstairs.
‘s
Just as she reached her room, the sound returned, more distinct this time. She froze for a moment. Then, she heard obvious footsteps.
Gripping her phone tightly, a flicker of hope sparked within her.
Could it be Holden?
She quickly sent a message to Holden. “Did you come to my house? I heard footsteps downstairs.”
Holden’s reply was immediate. “No. What’s going on? Are you okay?”
After replying to Ariana’s message, Holden threw on his coat and rushed out to go to Ariana’s place.
As Ariana typed a response, the doorknob rattled violently, followed by a booming knock.
Fear tightened its grip on Ariana. She frantically messaged Holden for help. “Someone’s at the door, trying to break in!”
Meanwhile, a commotion erupted from the balcony. Rushing over, Ariana’s blood ran cold at the sight-a masked redhead, clad in black, scaling her balcony with something in his hand.
“Who’s there?” Ariana asked instinctively.
In response, the man flipped her off, hurling vulgar insults at her, before throwing the object in his hand against the window.
It was red paint.
The window suddenly became splattered with red, resembling blood, instantly transforming the scene into a terrifying spectacle.
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