The knots in his stomach were twisting so hard he thought he’d keel over. Currently, he lingered outside Maniaco’s primary entrance. The black gate once again overshadowed him, its looming presence enough to make him queasy and excited simultaneously.
Compared to when he was with the others, Jaesung sensed something more powerful than himself emanating from the building. He scanned the perimeter, noting the tall, cemented walls. Two bodyguards stationed themselves near the gate, sunglasses obstructing Jaesung from finding out where their eyes rested. He gulped and sucked in a deep breath before approaching them.
“I’m here to—”
“Jaesung, correct?”
Instead of answering him, he nodded. Silence filled the air as the gate behind them screeched open, the scraping metal like nails on a chalkboard. The guards signaled for Jaesung to follow them inside.
They passed by the double doors that housed the auditorium and hugged a wooden wall to a floating staircase at the end. Jaesung bit his tongue when he thought to question where they were taking him. He was smart enough not to challenge those above him. Respect for ones higher up the ladder got him this far.
After moving through one more lengthy hallway, they eventually halted in front of a pair of broad, immaculate-white French doors. The man who escorted him in stepped aside. That was undoubtedly Jaesung's cue to go ahead on his own. With one last sweeping glance, he steeled his nerves and pulled open the door.
The musky scent of sweat overpowered his senses upon entering. A windowpane to the left of him filtered in the sunlight, its beams almost blinding him. With the light as a distraction, his foot snagged on an object sticking out and he fell forward, a resounding crash following.
“Dammit.” He swore under his breath. What the hell did he trip on? Jaesung caught himself with his hands.
While using the wall as support, he eased himself up. Gazing down at his hands, he could see tiny pieces of something brown and jagged sticking out. He plucked one out, a loud ‘fuck’ escaping his lips. A small amount of blood formed and trailed down his wrist and into his sleeve.
From somewhere just ahead of him, a raspy voice called out. “Jaesung.”
On hearing his name, his head shot up, and he looked ahead. Not over ten feet away, someone dressed in a navy blue suit sat, holding a wineglass, and gestured for him. The intense rays of the sun from the window behind the man blocked out his face.
“You finally made it. I had a hunch you would.”
That voice sounded familiar.
“Who the hell avoids a call to the main house?” Jaesung spoke impulsively, the filter on his mouth all but gone. “Ah, shit, I mean—”
But no more words left his lips. In an instant, someone shoved him against the wall with something resembling a knife pushed into his neck. Jaesung stilled. Warm air brushed against him from above, but he kept his gaze down.
Jaesung knew he fucked up. He bit the inside of his mouth to keep from showing the fear on his face. His body betrayed him as it slightly shook in dread.
“Giovanni. Let him go.” The cool touch of steel slowly disappeared. “Jeasung, look at me.”
At a snail’s pace, he lifted his gaze. With the light no longer blinding him, the individual in front of him became visible. Jaesung's heart nearly stopped its rapid beating.
“We seem to run into each other a lot lately.” His words stung. “I’m Luca. Son of Antonio and Heir to the Maniaco.”
