Chapter 305: Locked!

KATYA POV

BANG! A sound exploded through the building. For a split second, I didn’t understand what I’d heard, thinking I’d imagined it.

The music downstairs was deafening. The bass had been rattling the floor beneath my feet ever since we stepped into Michael’s office.

Nothing should have been loud enough to break through it. But this did. The sound ripped through the club like a gunshot.

My entire body jerked. My brain couldn’t place it. It was too loud. Too sharp. Too sudden. The music died instantly.

One second bass had been pulsing through the floor beneath my feet. The office seemed to vibrate around us.

Then came the scream. A woman’s voice tore through the club below, raw and terrified. Another followed. And another.

The next…..Nothing.

Silence. Not true silence. Worse. Chaos. Voices erupted downstairs all at once.

Shouting. Questions. People talking over one another. The sudden absence of music made every sound feel louder. Every reaction sharper.

Across the office, Chiara jumped so hard she nearly knocked into the couch behind her. “What the hell was that?” I was already on my feet. My heart slammed against my ribs.

Beside me, Michael stood so quickly his chair rolled backward several inches across the floor.

The relaxed atmosphere that had existed seconds ago vanished completely.

His expression hardened. Every trace of ease disappeared. For a second, nobody moved. Then Michael’s head snapped toward the large television mounted on the wall.

My gaze followed automatically. The screen was divided into multiple sections, each showing a different camera angle from around the club.

And every single one looked wrong. People were running. Not walking. Not leaving normally. Running.

Bodies crashed into bodies as customers shoved their way toward the exits. The dance floor had dissolved into chaos. Tables were abandoned. Drinks littered the floor. Security personnel were trying to push against the flow of people, but there were too many.

Far too many. “What happened?” I whispered. Nobody answered. Because there was no obvious answer. I stared harder at the screens. Trying to find the source.

The reason. Anything. But all I could see were crowds. Terrified crowds. People looking over their shoulders. People screaming. People pushing toward the entrance.

Every camera showed the same thing. Chaos. But not what had caused it. “What is happening?” Chiara asked.

Silence.

“What happened?”

No answer.

“What are they running from?”

Still nothing.

Chiara turned in a slow circle.

“Michael.”

Nothing.

“Michael.”

Her voice got louder.

“Michael!”

“What?” he snapped.

Chiara blinked.

Apparently surprised he had finally responded. “What is happening?” she repeated.

Michael ignored her immediately. His attention remained fixed on the screens.

My stomach twisted. The fact that he didn’t know was somehow worse.

Because Michael looked like the kind of man who always knew what was happening inside his own club. A club that is just starting.

And right now, he didn’t have a single clue what was happening. I could see it. His jaw was locked. His eyes moved rapidly across the different camera feeds.

Searching.

Calculating. Trying to find something everyone else had missed. Another scream echoed faintly from downstairs.

I flinched. “What happened?” I asked.

This time Michael answered.

“I don’t know.” A strange knot tightened in my chest. Michael suddenly turned away from the screens and strode toward his desk.

“What are you doing?” Chiara asked.

No response. He yanked open one of the lower cabinets. I frowned. Then froze. My breath caught.

Michael reached inside and pulled out a gun.

A real gun. Black and Cold-looking. My brain refused to process what I was seeing. Then it did. And every ounce of blood seemed to drain from my face.

I took an immediate step backward. Then another. My pulse exploded. “Oh my God.” The words escaped before I could stop them.

Michael looked up. His gaze landed on me instantly. The fear must have been obvious. Because something softened briefly in his expression.

Only briefly. “Katya.” I couldn’t stop staring at the weapon in his hand.

My father had owned guns. Romeo did too. I knew what they looked like. I knew what they could do. And suddenly the office felt much smaller than before.

Much less safe. “Stay here.” My head snapped up.

“What?”

“Stay in the office.”

“No.”

The answer came immediately. I didn’t care.

“No.”

Michael exhaled sharply.

“Katya—”

“No.”

My voice shook. I hated that it shook. “We’re leaving.”

“We don’t know what’s happening downstairs.”

“Exactly!”

I pointed toward the television. Toward the crowds. Toward the panic.

“People are running, Michael!” Chiara nodded enthusiastically. Far too enthusiastically.

“Yes! Exactly! We should definitely be running too!” Neither of us listened to her. Michael’s gaze remained fixed on me.

“Stay here.”

“No.”

His expression hardened.

“Katya.”

“No!”

The fear was climbing now. Fast. Wild. The kind that didn’t leave room for logic. I wanted out. Out of the office. Out of the club. Away from whatever was happening downstairs. Away from the gun in his hand. Away from all of it. Michael crossed the room in three strides.

Before I could react, his hand closed around my arm.

Not painfully.

Firmly.

“Michael—” The office door opened. My heart jumped.

For one stupid second I thought he was finally letting us leave. Instead he guided me through the doorway.

Back into the private sitting room connected to his office. “Michael!”

“Stay here.” Fear spiked violently inside me.

“No!” Chiara stumbled after us.

“What is happening?!” Michael ignored her too. He pushed both of us inside.

The door slammed. I lunged forward instantly.

The lock clicked. My stomach dropped.

“Michael!” I grabbed the handle. Twisted it. Nothing. Locked. Locked. Locked.

Panic slammed into me so hard it became difficult to breathe.

“Michael!” I hit the door with my palm. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer. Only hurried footsteps moving away on the other side.

Leaving us behind. And for the first time since the screaming started downstairs, genuine terror settled into my chest.

Because whatever was happening out there….Michael thought it was dangerous enough to lock us in.