**Luca still in the warehouse*****
The smell in the room clung to everything. Gunpowder. Sweat. Blood. It was sharp enough to sting Mia's nose, and she could almost taste the iron on her tongue. Her back was pressed against the cold wall, legs drawn up, arms tight around her knees. She didn't dare move. Not after what she had already seen. Not after Scorpion's body had been dragged out, leaving a thick smear of red across the concrete floor.
The door banged open. The sound jolted through her, and she had to bite her lip to keep from gasping. Two of Luca's men stumbled in, each gripping the arms of another man. His head was covered with a black hood, his wrists tied. He fought them hard, his boots scraping against the floor, his muffled curses spilling out in a language Mia didn't know.
Luca, who had been leaning against the table, straightened. His voice came out low, but with that edge that always made people stiffen.
"What now?"
"He was caught sneaking around the fence," one of the men said quickly. "Not one of ours."
The lazy look dropped from Luca's face. His eyes sharpened, the way a knife looks sharper when it catches the light.
"Take it off."
The hood was yanked away. The man's face was swollen from a beating, his lip split, his cheekbone purple. Even in that state, his stare burned with anger. He spat at the ground in front of Luca.
"Kill me. I won't say a word."
Luca didn't even flinch. He stepped closer until the man had to crane his neck to keep staring at him. A small smile touched Luca's lips, but there was nothing kind in it.
"Oh, I'll kill you," he said quietly, "but not before you regret opening your mouth."
Mia's stomach tightened. She knew what was coming, even before Luca slid a knife out of his coat pocket. The blade caught what little light the room had. Her throat closed.
He drove it straight into the prisoner's shoulder. The scream that ripped out of the man didn't sound human. Mia's hands shot to her ears, but she still heard it.
"I don't like spies," Luca said, twisting the blade, slow and deliberate. "And I really don't like being tested."
Blood spread fast, soaking the man's shirt. Luca yanked the knife free, then handed it off without looking. His men forced the prisoner down to his knees. Luca drew his gun, pointed it, and fired into the man's hand. The sound thundered in the small room.
Mia's body jerked like she'd been the one hit. A soft cry slipped out before she could stop it.
Luca's head snapped toward her. His eyes locked on her small frame huddled in the corner. He smiled — not wide, not loud — but the kind of smile that chilled her worse than the gunshot.
"Still here, little mouse?" His tone was almost playful. "Enjoying the show?"
Mia hugged herself tighter, her throat working but no words coming out. She wanted to disappear into the wall.
The prisoner coughed blood and managed to croak, "Monster."
Luca's smile faded. His boot slammed into the man's chest with a crack. The prisoner flew back against the wall, gasping. Luca leaned down, his voice stripped of all expression.
"No. I'm worse than that."
He caught a small blowtorch tossed to him by one of his men and flicked it on. The hiss of the flame filled the room. Heat rolled outward. Mia shrank back further, pressing her palms flat against the cold wall.
"You've got one minute to tell me who sent you," Luca said, calm again, "or you'll learn how slowly a body burns."
The prisoner's jaw clenched. His eyes darted between the flame and Luca's empty face. The defiance cracked. The name tumbled out, barely audible.
Luca leaned close, listening, then nodded once. "Good."
He didn't hesitate. A single shot to the head. The body collapsed sideways, blood pouring across the floor.
Mia gagged, twisting her head away. But no matter where she looked, there was blood.
Luca turned toward her again, his boots thudding against the floor until he crouched directly in front of her. His shadow covered her small figure. She could feel the warmth of the gun still in his hand.
"You see, little mouse? This is what happens when people test me. You don't breathe without my permission. Remember that."
Her eyes filled. She nodded quickly, desperate for him to stand back.
"Good girl." His tone softened for a second, then hardened again. "But don't forget — good girls can still die."
He stood and waved a hand. "Clean it up. Bring the others. We're not done."
The room erupted with movement. Orders barked, footsteps crossing, men dragging the body away. Mia stayed curled in her corner, trembling, trying to block out the noise. But the image of Luca's smile and the sound of the gunshot clung to her.
When he finally left, the silence that followed felt even heavier. The door slammed, the echo crawling across the walls.
Mia sat still for what felt like hours, though it couldn't have been more than minutes. Her wrists burned from the rope. She pulled, winced, pulled again. Every scrape sent sharp pain through her skin. She didn't stop.
If she stayed, she'd die.
Her eyes darted around the room. A handful of other girls sat in the corner, knees tucked to their chests, their faces pale. They looked broken already. None of them moved. None even blinked toward the door.
Why aren't they trying? Mia thought. Why are they just waiting?
She crawled slowly toward the wall where the shadows stretched deeper, her knees scraping against the concrete. Just a little further, and she could be close to the door.
"Don't."
The whisper froze her.
She turned. One of the girls — a thin brunette with tangled hair and a swollen face — was staring at her. Her eyes looked almost empty, but there was steel buried inside them.
"Don't even think about it," the girl whispered again. "If you try, it won't be quick. It won't even be death. It'll be worse."
Mia's breath hitched. "I… I can't stay here."
The girl's jaw clenched. "Then he'll make you wish you were dead."
Her words rang flat and certain, like she had lived them before.
"I've seen it," she went on, voice shaking but clear. "He doesn't just kill runaways. He breaks them first. He takes his time. When they're begging, when there's nothing left of them — that's when he ends it."
Mia stared at the ground, her nails digging into her palms. The sliver of light under the door tempted her. For one second, she imagined running through it, the night air cold and free on her face. Then she saw Luca's eyes in her mind, and the fantasy shattered.
Her body slumped back against the wall. Her arms wrapped around herself like she could hold her pieces together.
The brunette's voice softened. "Survive first. That's all you can do. Don't run yet. Not now."
The room fell into silence again. But Mia couldn't hear the quiet — not really. All she heard was that warning echoing in her skull.
Survive first.
Escape… would never be simple.