Chapter 311: Keys

CHAPTER 312

KATYA POV

The first police siren cut through the freezing night like a knife. It was distant. But getting closer. Then another joined it. And another.

The sound bounced between the buildings surrounding the alley, growing louder with every passing second until it felt like it was coming from every direction at once.

Beside me, Chiara finally moved. “Oh, shit.” Her voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. I turned toward her numbly, but she wasn’t looking at me. She was staring at the mouth of the alley where the flashing blue and red lights were beginning to dance against the brick walls.

Her eyes widened.

“Oh, shit.” This time she sounded fully awake. The alcohol hadn’t disappeared. Fear had simply beaten it. She grabbed my wrist so suddenly I flinched.

“Katya.”

I blinked. Nothing came out. Her grip tightened.

“We have to get out of here.” I stared at her. “We can’t be here.” The words barely reached me.

My mind was somewhere else entirely. Still standing in the alley. Still watching Romeo disappear into the darkness as though none of this had mattered.

Still seeing those cold grey eyes. Still remembering how my entire body had stopped working the second he looked at me.

I hated it. God… I hated it. I was angry.

Angry at him. Angry at this night. But mostly… I was angry at myself. He hadn’t touched me. He hadn’t threatened me. He hadn’t spoken a single word.

He had simply looked at me. And I had frozen. Every ounce of courage I’d convinced myself I possessed through these six mountains had vanished beneath one silent glance.

I hated that. Hated that after everything… after promising myself I wasn’t afraid of him anymore… my body had betrayed me so completely.

It felt humiliating. Weak. Pathetic. “Katya!”

Chiara’s voice snapped through the whirlwind inside my head. I looked at her.

“What?” “We have to go.” She gave my arm another sharp tug.

“The police are coming.” Only then did I hear it properly.

The sirens. Louder now. Much louder. The flashing lights reflected off the damp pavement at the end of the alley in frantic bursts of blue and red.

My gaze drifted downward. The bodies were still there.

Three men. Motionless. The blood looked darker now beneath the streetlight. Less shocking. Somehow more horrifying.

A cold shiver raced down my spine. Chiara followed my gaze.

“No.” She shook her head immediately.

“Don’t look.”

“I…”

“Katya.”

Her voice softened.

“Please.” I swallowed hard. She stepped in front of me, blocking my view of the bodies completely before wrapping both hands around mine.

“They’re coming.”

The sirens screamed louder.

“If we’re still standing beside three dead men when the police arrive…” She didn’t finish. She didn’t need to. My stomach twisted violently.

Questions. Statements. Police stations. The thought alone made my chest tighten.

Especially after…

Romeo.

No.

I couldn’t think about him.

Not now. “Come on.” This time I let Chiara lead. She practically dragged me toward the mouth of the alley. My legs felt strangely disconnected from the rest of my body.

Every step felt automatic. Behind us, the steel service door leading back into the club remained. Smoke continued to curl lazily from somewhere inside the building, drifting into the freezing night.

The smell followed us. Burnt plastic.

Alcohol. Something metallic. Something I never wanted to smell again. As we reached the end of the alley, the city exploded around us.

Chaos. Absolute chaos. The street outside looked nothing like it had earlier that evening. Police vehicles screeched to a stop near the entrance of the club. Their flashing lights painted the buildings in frantic waves of blue and crimson.

People crowded the sidewalks. Some were crying. Others wrapped trembling arms around friends.

Several people sat directly on the curb coughing violently while paramedics rushed between them carrying medical bags.

Someone was shouting. Another officer was forcing curious onlookers farther back. Yellow tape was already being pulled across part of the road.

Smoke continued spilling from the front entrance of the club in uneven clouds. Firefighters were running toward it. Everything blurred together.

Voices.

Lights.

Sirens.

Questions.

Fear.

It felt unreal. Chiara didn’t stop moving. She kept hold of my hand as she steered us through the growing crowd.

“Keep walking.” I nodded automatically. Someone brushed past us carrying a woman whose legs appeared unable to support her.

Another man sat on the pavement with blood running down one side of his forehead while a paramedic knelt beside him.

Everywhere I looked…

Panic.

The club behind us seemed to breathe smoke into the night sky. I couldn’t stop staring at it. Less than an hour ago we’d walked through those doors laughing.

Now… People had died. My chest tightened painfully. A sharp slap against fabric pulled my attention away.

I turned.

Chiara had suddenly stopped walking.

“What?” She wasn’t listening. Instead, both hands were frantically patting every pocket on her dress.

Her expression changed.

“No.”

She checked again. Her dress. Her sides.

Nothing. “No, no, no…”

My stomach sank.

“What?” She spun toward me. Her eyes widened with fresh panic.

“Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“My phone.” She checked herself again as though it might magically appear.

“My phone isn’t here.” I frowned.

“What?”

“My bag.” She looked around wildly.

“My bag!” Only then did realization begin creeping into my own mind.

Automatically, I reached toward my shoulder. Nothing. My hand froze. My bag.

It wasn’t there. My phone… My wallet… Everything… Still inside Michael’s office. My heartbeat sped up again. Slowly, I looked at Chiara. She had gone completely pale. Then she slapped both hands against her forehead.

“Oh, for the love of—” She stopped herself. Then failed.

“Fuck!” Several people turned to look. She didn’t even notice.

“My keys!” Her eyes became comically wide.

“My car keys!” She stared at me as though I’d somehow be able to solve this disaster. She pointed wildly toward the smoking club.

“Our bags are upstairs!”

Our phones. Money. Identification. Chiara’s car keys. Left behind. Locked inside Michael’s office.

Inside the club.

Inside the building emergency crews were now rushing into.

Chiara let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a scream.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

I looked toward the entrance. Police officers were already blocking people from getting close. There was no chance anyone was simply walking back inside.

“We can’t go back,” I whispered.

“I know!” Chiara threw both hands into the air.

“I know we can’t go back!” She turned another frantic circle.

“We can’t go back but how do we get home, katya?”