The Crimson Door

***Milena***

The heavy roar of the SUV engines eventually faded into the distant Italian night. The moment Rafael was gone, I let out a sharp, trembling exhale. I slumped heavily against the ornate back of the plush dining chair. My head throbbed with severe exhaustion, sending brutal spikes of pain behind my eyes. The adrenaline that had kept me screaming and fighting against his iron grip just minutes ago evaporated, leaving behind a hollow, aching shell. I dragged my battered, shivering body out of the dining room and forced myself up the grand marble staircase. The oppressive silence of the massive house pressed down on my shoulders with the weight of a physical burden.

I barely made it into the sprawling master bedroom when a soft, hesitant knock sounded at the heavy wooden door. Greta, the gentle head maid, stepped cautiously into the room holding a silver tray laden with a steaming ceramic bowl.

"Mr. Valenti left strict instructions for you to eat." Greta kept her voice low and soothing, her kind eyes full of a quiet, helpless pity.

I shook my head, fighting the bitter nausea swirling in my empty stomach. "You can take that away, Greta. I won't be having dinner tonight."

She hesitated near the doorway. A reluctant look flickered across her weathered features, but recognizing the firm finality in my tone, she offered a slow nod and quietly backed out, pulling the door shut with a soft click.

I mechanically stripped off my damp, ruined dress and crawled under the covers of the massive, cold bed. I curled into a tight ball on my side, pulling the thick duvet all the way up to my chin. The luxurious fabric offered no real warmth. A solitary, painful tear slipped from my lashes and soaked into the pristine white pillowcase. As soon as I closed my exhausted eyes, the horrific, lingering images flashed behind my eyelids. The lifeless bodies of the dead men sprawled out at the front of the villa. The dark pools of blood soaking into the gravel. The hollow, unseeing stares of the corpses.

Those fresh, terrifying horrors twisted and mingled with bloody, repressed memories from years ago. A past I had fought so desperately to bury was clawing its way back to the surface. The metallic tang of blood in the air. Blood smeared across my skin. Blood soaking into my trembling hands.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I dragged my arms over my head and pressed my palms firmly over my ears, desperate to drown out the phantom sounds of gunfire and screaming. I prayed into the silent void of the room that tomorrow’s sun would wash the horrors away, taking the shadows and the memories along with the retreating moon.

The next morning brought no true relief. The grand Valenti Villa was swallowed in its usual lifeless, echoing silence. The sprawling mansion was filled with a small army of staff, yet they navigated the halls like voiceless ghosts. The servants were present in body, yet absent in spirit. They only ever spoke when spoken to, kept their heads bowed, and meticulously minded the business that kept them employed. Conversations were clipped and strictly professional. Laughter was a foreign concept in this gilded fortress. Not even the faintest, accidental chuckle ever bounced off the vaulted ceilings. It was a suffocating, heavy solitude bred by working under the iron fist of an overbearing boss like Rafael Valenti. While the extreme quiet was peaceful in theory, it offered zero comfort. I had long grown accustomed to the bitter sting of loneliness, but the isolation within these walls was maddening.

I desperately needed fresh air to clear the lingering fog of my nightmares. Seeking the brief solace of the outdoor garden, which had slowly become my only safe haven, I grabbed the brass handle and stepped quietly out of my bedroom.

I took a hasty step back and froze instantly. I pressed my spine flush against the hard wooden doorframe, my breath catching tight in my throat.

Down the long, immaculate hallway, Rafael was stepping cautiously out of the mystery room. Out of all the identical, grand oak doors that lined the sweeping second-floor corridor, it was the only one that stood starkly apart. The heavy wood was boldly painted a deep, striking crimson red. It looked like a fresh wound against the pale, neutral tones of the house. From the very first day I arrived as a captive in this home, the terrified servants had strictly warned me about that specific room. It was out of bounds to everyone but the boss. He went in there alone at odd hours. It was a dark, unwavering ritual. Sometimes he would emerge after a few brief minutes, and other times he remained locked inside for over an hour.

I held my breath and peeked cautiously around the doorframe. My brows creased deeply in intense suspicion.

Rafael pulled the heavy crimson door shut. He reached a strong hand up toward his chest, his long fingers dipping beneath the unbuttoned collar of his crisp white dress shirt. He pulled out a thick silver chain. Dangling from the very end of the metal was a sleek, silver key pendant. He inserted the pendant directly into the reinforced lock. The sharp, heavy click of the deadbolt echoed loudly in the empty, silent corridor. He gripped the brass handle and tugged forcefully to ensure the door was securely fastened. Once satisfied, he carefully tucked the silver chain safely back beneath his shirt, letting the metal rest hidden against his warm skin. Without a single backward glance, he vanished into his private study located directly across the hall.

I stepped out of my hiding spot and stared deeply into the empty hallway. My mind raced at a million miles an hour. I struggled to wrap my head around the visual I had just witnessed. What dark, horrific secret could he safeguard so meticulously? He literally kept the key against his heart. He never took the necklace off. Not for showers, not for sleep. Not once.

What dark secret could that room possibly hold that he wanted to keep hidden so badly? I ruled out a dead body almost immediately. He owned sprawling warehouses and private properties perfect for disposing of his enemies. What was it then? A secret captive? Classified blackmail material on the ruling families? A vault of illegal documents? It had to be something massive. It had to be something catastrophic if the great, untouchable Rafael Valenti did not want the world to know about it.

Up until this exact moment, I had never paid much attention to the fuss surrounding the odd red door. I knew it was eerie. I knew the taboo surrounding it was intense. But I had my own desperate survival to worry about. However, after last night's brutal display of violence and control, my perspective shifted. I needed to know the story behind that room. It might just be my one-way ticket to freedom. If I was incredibly lucky, that room was potentially hiding something scandalous or illegal enough to pull him down for good.

Whatever was waiting on the other side of that painted wood, I had to find out. I had to get out of this house and far away from him. If uncovering that secret room was the master key to making my escape a reality, I would risk everything to get in.

I jolted sharply out of my scheming thoughts as movement caught my peripheral vision. I spotted Alessio coming casually up the grand marble stairs. His head was tipped down as he scanned a thick document in his hand. I seized my fleeting chance. If there was anyone on this earth who knew the ins and outs of Rafael's mind, it was his most trusted underboss.

I walked briskly to the top of the landing. "Alessio."

He stopped at the very foot of the final staircase and looked up from his paperwork to face me. "Buongiorno, Milena." He offered a radiant, warm smile that reached his bright eyes.

"Buongiorno." I returned the greeting with a small, polite smile as I came to a halt a few feet away from where he stood.

Even though Alessio was nowhere near a righteous man, and his hands were stained with just as much innocent blood as Rafael's, I preferred his company. He was tall, undeniably good-looking, and effortlessly friendly. More importantly, he presented himself as a true gentleman. He possessed a warm, approachable presence. Under different, normal circumstances, a man with his charm would have easily caught my genuine attention.

"Do you need something?" Alessio asked politely, keeping the charming smile on his handsome face.

"Actually, I do. Well, sort of." I kept my voice light and conversational.

He raised a dark eyebrow playfully, silently prompting me to continue speaking.

"That room." I motioned my head casually down the hall toward the crimson door.

When I looked back at him, the warm smile had vanished from his lips. The friendly, inviting light in his eyes extinguished in a fraction of a second, replaced by a cold, calculating emptiness. It was as if the cheerful man from a second ago had never existed in the first place.

"What about it?" Alessio asked. His tone was suddenly dead serious and chillingly flat.

I refused to cave under his intense, analyzing scrutiny. I twisted the heavy ring on my finger and forced an awkward, light chuckle into the heavy air to mask my gnawing nervousness.

"I was just curious as to why no one is allowed to go in there besides Rafael. Is there a dead body hidden in there?" I held my posture relaxed, praying desperately that he wouldn't see straight through my hidden intentions.

Alessio and Rafael were glued at the hip. They trusted each other with their lives and their empires. Yet, I had never once seen Alessio anywhere near that specific door. That simple fact confirmed I was onto something huge.

A heavy, suffocating silence stretched between us for several agonizing seconds. My heart thumped aggressively against my ribcage. His sharp, dark eyes remained glued to my face, dissecting my casual demeanor piece by piece. Then, slowly, a smile resurfaced on his handsome face. It was a smile so wide and unsettling that I couldn't tell if it was real or a fake mask meant to intimidate.

"Going close to that room will be the quickest way to die." He delivered the words in a deceptively playful tone that barely masked a lethal warning. "If you don't want that, I’d advise you tame your curiosity. I'm sure you know Rafael's temper."

He threw me a mischievous, chilling wink and bypassed me on the landing, walking purposefully away down the corridor.

My chest fell rapidly as I let out the shaky breath I didn't know I was holding. The agonizing tension finally seeped out of my rigid muscles. Asking his fiercely loyal best friend was a foolish, impulsive mistake. Of course, Alessio wasn't going to casually leak Rafael's greatest secret to a captive.

However, Alessio's lethal words weren't going to scare me off. The veiled threat only solidified my resolve. They were hiding something monumental behind that oak wood. Attempting to breach that room under Rafael's fiercely vigilant eyes would be incredibly difficult, but it was a terrifying risk I was more than willing to take.

Rafael had once boldly stated that to survive in his brutal reality, you must either be the prey or the predator. I had spent my entire life cowering in the shadows, waiting for monsters to decide my fate. I was exhausted from being a victim. It was high time this prey became the predator.

I just needed to find a smart way in. I needed to get my hands on that silver key resting against his chest. And when I finally did, the almighty mafia lord wouldn't know what hit him.