Chapter 38

• The night was unnervingly quiet, with only the occasional rustle of leaves breaking the stillness. Rafael sat in the living room, leaning back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the shadows playing across the ceiling. A half-empty glass of whiskey sat on the table next to him, untouched for the past hour. The weight of the past days bore down on him. Every decision, every move, felt heavier with the constant threat of Matteo looming in the distance.
• From upstairs, a muffled sound pulled him out of his thoughts. It was faint at first, but as it grew louder, Rafael’s body tensed. He recognized it—murmured cries, the frantic sound of someone caught in a nightmare. Without hesitation, he rose and climbed the stairs quietly, his footsteps barely audible.
• The sound led him to Maya’s room. Her door was slightly ajar, and through the crack, he could see her thrashing against the sheets, her face contorted in distress.