The one they all feared

The one they all feared
Erika, Alina, and the Guard

The echo of the gunshot still hung in the air like smoke.

All three of them—Erika, Alina, and the guard—stood frozen on the stone steps, staring toward the mansion windows flickering with unstable light.

Alina’s voice broke first, flat and annoyed rather than afraid:
“…This place never changes.”

From across the yard, a movement.

The front door of Maya & Calvin’s house opened—
Elliott stepped out, lantern raised.

“Hello?” he called.

Erika and Alina turned sharply.

Elliott froze when he saw them.
Her.
His half-sister.

Erika saw the flicker of recognition in his expression—
too fast to hide entirely.

“Can I help you?” he asked, trying to sound neutral.

Alina crossed her arms, unimpressed.
Erika stepped forward instead.

“Rami called me,” she said. “He told me Luca is back.”

Elliott’s jaw locked.
“Who…?”

“Luca,” Alina answered bluntly. “And he’s probably here to finish what he started.”

But Elliott shook his head.
“He’s not underground. Sofia was with me down there. I think the shot came from that direction. She’s stuck. Maybe hurt.”

Erika’s attention sharpened.
“You found the underground too?”

“Yes,” he answered. “And it’s controlled by a man who’s barely alive but still connected to Craig. I don’t think he’s acting on his own anymore.”

Erika looked toward the mansion, then back toward Calvin’s house—
calculating, piecing the puzzle.

Finally she said, “We take the underground. We’ll reach them faster.”

“No,” Alina snapped immediately. “What if there’s still danger inside? What if they all died?”

Elliott actually agreed.
“And the child—your guard should escort her. She’ll be safer upstairs.”

Erika hesitated, then nodded.

“Fine. She can enter. Craig won’t hurt her. He still recognizes her.”

Alina rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.
The guard stayed with her.

And Erika followed Elliott into the house, toward the trapdoor into the darkness.

Luca — Upstairs

Inside the mansion, Luca laughed.

The sound bounced off the marble walls—pure enjoyment, almost musical.

“Someone’s dead,” he announced, leaning over the banister. “I heard it.”

Clara sat on the floor, shaking, hand pressed against her pregnant belly.
Rebecca, eyes red with terror, touched her shoulder gently.

Luca noticed the gesture.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked.

Rebecca swallowed.
“She needs water. She’s stressed—she’s having contractions.”

Luca hesitated.

Then he pointed toward the kitchen.

“Go. Bring her water. I can watch from here.”

Rebecca stood, trembling, and hurried away.

Luca leaned over the railing, waiting for Marisol like a proud brother awaiting his victorious twin.

But Marisol didn’t return.

Underground — The Shooting

Sofia lay on the cold concrete, breath rattling through the nearly empty oxygen mask.
Marisol knelt beside her, trembling.

The blood spreading beneath Sofia’s shirt was dark and wet.

“You… you’re bleeding,” Marisol whispered.

Sofia grabbed her wrist weakly.

“Your gun… it wasn’t hot… you didn’t shoot me.”

Marisol looked at her weapon—
the barrel was cold.

“Who then?!” she demanded.

Sofia’s voice was fading.

“Gary…”
A breath.
“…Craig…”
“…tell them…”

Her eyes rolled back.
Her body went still.

“No—no, no—Sofia!” Marisol shook her.

But Sofia’s head fell to the side.

Marisol staggered back, horrified.

“Who shot? Who?!”

She turned—
and a shadow moved.

“Wait!” she gasped.

But it was too late—

CRACK.

A heavy blow struck her across the skull.

Marisol hit the ground hard, the flashlight skittering across the floor.

She looked up through blurred eyes.

Two silhouettes towered over her:

Elliott.
And Erika.

Both holding the gun she had dropped.

Both staring at her with the same realization:

They had found the monster…
or what they believed was the monster.

Marisol’s last conscious thought as darkness swallowed her:

Luca… hurry.

Luca — Losing Control

Luca paced the hallway like a caged panther, fingers twitching around the gun.
Something was wrong.
Marisol should’ve returned by now.

Rebecca quietly slipped into the kitchen, filled a glass of water, and carried it back to Clara—her hands trembling, her mind racing.

Clara clutched the blanket around her stomach, trying to steady her breathing.
Rebecca knelt beside her.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. Just breathe.”

Rebecca reached behind her apron, fingers brushing the handle of the kitchen knife she had hidden.

But Luca’s voice sliced through the quiet:

“What’s that?”

Rebecca froze.

Luca strode toward her and snatched her wrist—twisting it until the knife clattered to the floor.

“You think I’m stupid?”

Rebecca’s tears broke.
“She’s in pain—let me help her!”

He shoved her backward.
“Don’t try to play hero. You’re not built for it.”

Then—

A knock at the door.

Luca stiffened.

“Everyone. Quiet.”

He dragged Rebecca to the foyer and whispered:

“Open it. Slowly. And don’t try anything.”

Rebecca swallowed hard, wiped her face, and pulled the door open—

And froze.

Alina stood on the doorstep, her expression unreadable.
Beside her, the guard held her chain loosely, unsure whether to be afraid or relieved.

Luca’s breath caught.

“Alina…?”

She smirked.
“You look terrible.”

He laughed once—sharp, disbelieving.

“You’re alive.”

“Unfortunately for you,” she said smoothly, stepping inside.

Luca didn’t notice Rebecca’s subtle shift back toward Clara—
or the steamer Clara reached for behind her.

Underground — Erika, Sofia & Elliott

Erika and Elliott kneeled beside Sofia’s limp body.

The oxygen tank hissed softly.
Sofia’s skin was clammy, blood sticky under her shirt.

“Sofia, stay with me,” Erika whispered.

Sofia’s eyelids fluttered.

“…the clue… Gare…”
Her breath rattled.
“…it’s… French… but… read… backwards…”

Erika frowned.
“Backwards?”

Sofia nodded weakly.

“…real villain isn’t Luca… or Jesse… it’s…”
She struggled for air.
“…Gary… Gary and the AI… Tyler’s mind… Gary made him… finish… everything…”

Her lips trembled.
“Stop him… stop Craig… he wants… the heirs gone…”

Her head fell to the side.

Elliott checked her pulse.

Nothing.

Erika exhaled a shiver.
“She’s dead.”

Elliott grabbed the gun from Marisol’s unconscious hand and stood.

“Then we need to go. Now.”

Erika rose, expression hardening.

“Lead the way.”

Back Upstairs — The Steamer

Rebecca rejoined Clara, whispering urgently:

“Keep calm. Don’t move unless I say so.”

Clara’s hand closed around the steamer switch, hidden behind the couch.

Alina stepped deeper into the foyer, Luca circling her like a ghost resurrected.

“So you left me to die,” Alina said casually.

Luca’s jaw flexed.

“You ran. I didn’t expect you to survive.”

“Well,” she said, stepping close enough for him to smell her breath,
“you’re not the only one full of surprises.”