Chapter 5 Lies Between Sheets

Ava's POV

The Moretti Mansion always slept at night, but I didn't.

Even the shadows seemed afraid to move as I slipped quietly out of the room, my heart pounding loud enough to echo in my ears.

Every step I took down the hallway felt like walking on a tightrope above the fire. This silence wasn't comforting... it pressed down against me like a deadly warning.

But I had no choice now.

Things were starting to get too risky. I needed Something real. Something concrete. I needed proof that Lucien Moretti was the monster he was known to be.

Just the truth.

Lucien's private study was two floors down, always locked. No one dared to enter it without his consent. But I had been watching. I memorized the changing of the men who stood guard.

And tonight... luck....or rather madness was on my side. I moved quietly, avoiding the creaking floorboards. One wrong move and I would disappear for good.

Not fired.

Not thrown out.

I would be gone.

Dead.

I reached the study's double doors, pulling out the pin I had stolen from one of Selena's heels earlier. It was strong enough to pick locks. I'd picked enough locks growing up in the system to know how to make anything work.

Click..

The lock finally clicked open.

Lucien's study smelled like money and danger at the same time. Rich leather, old books, and the faint scent of cigar smoke.

I didn't have much time at hand to admire all these right now. Quickly, I began opening the drawers one by one. Papers, passports, cash.... But nothing useful to me.

Until my eyes met it.

The one drawer that wouldn't open. Locked of course. I knelt beside it, my heart thudding. The lock was small but strong. "Come on... come on....please...." I whispered.

Click

It finally opened.

And inside... hell awaited at the sight of what I saw.

I stared at a black leather book resting inside the drawer. No name. Just a thick, worn ledger, stained along the edges. My gut was twisting before I opened it.

But I had to see.

A name. A phone of a woman smiling. Alive.

Next to it. A date. A price.

Kidney-$1,000,000

Liver- $500,000

Heart- Unsold( damaged)

"Oh my god....

Page after every page I turned. There were names, faces, and how they were captured. How they were killed. Every price their parts were sold for.

This wasn't just murder. It was a business. An organized system of death and dollars. Lucien was more than a killer.

He was a supplier.

I quickly grabbed the ledger with trembling hands, its leather cover slick with age and secrets. My entire body buzzed with adrenaline. Every one of my instincts screaming at me to run.

Now.

I moved towards the door like a shadow slipping through candlelight, my ears straining for the tiniest sound of a creak, a step, a tiny little breath that could implicate me.

Nothing.

I pressed my palm to the door and slowly turned to the knob, wincing at the creak it gave. The hallway beyond was dark, painted in the pale moonlight slicing through the stained-glass windows.

I eased the door open, just wide enough to slip through. And then...I slammed into a wall. No...chest. I stumbled back, the breath knocked out of me.

Please, not him. Please, not...

But it wasn't Lucien.

The man standing before me had the same stare, the same cruel angles carved into his jawline. But his expression was messier... more chaotic. His eyes were lazy, but with intoxication.

It was the infamous Dante Moretti.

Lucien's younger brother.

A smirk twisted across his face as his eyes swept under me. Dropping to the awkward way I folded my arms behind my back.

Shit.

Back to my face.

The smirk deepened even more, cruel and slow. "Well," he said, his voice a low sneer that slithered down my spine. "Who do we have here?"

My lips parted to speak, but no sound came out. I was caught red-handed. The silence between us stretches like a tripwire. He took a step closer.

"You know," he continued, brushing a strand through his messy hair, "Lucien really ought to lock his doors better."

I stood still at a place. Panic crept up my spine. "Oh...I'm sorry. I didn't realize someone was out here by this time of the night." I said, forcing my lips into a smile.

Dante moved his head, squinting his eyes to look down at me. His breath reeked of whiskey, and his shirt was half-unbuttoned like he had been drinking most of the night.

"You're Lucien's slave, right?" He asked. His eyes moved to see what I hid behind my back. "Yeah. Clara." Nodding in response, even though his words made my skin crawl.

"Didn't know he was into sweet-faced ones now. Guess even the Devil needs different things sometimes." He sneered, leaning against the wall, a twisted smirk at the corner of his lips.

"He...he sent me to get something from his study," I lied smoothly. "Didn't think anyone would be out here."

"He sent you, huh? Are you sure about that?" Dante asked lazily. "Ye...yes..." my pulse rising and falling heavily.

His eyes lingered on me for a while. My long nightgown barely clinging to my skin, the cloth-wrapped ledger pressed behind my back, waiting for the moment he would demand to look at what I was carrying.

But instead, he smiled, Warmer this time. "What must have you done to make Lucien want you as his slave?"

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

Dante stepped closer instead, his voice dropping too low. "If I had you in my bed, I wouldn't send you off running errands in the middle of the night."

He was drunk. Not stupid... but drunk enough not to question anything he had seen that night too deeply. And right now.

This was the only weapon I needed to use to save myself from getting killed.