Chapter Sixteen

The night outside was cruel, the air biting as Sarah and Antonio stumbled into the alleyway. The damp cobblestones beneath their feet glistened faintly under the flickering streetlights, casting long, sinister shadows on the walls. Antonio leaned heavily on her, barely able to stand, his body weak from the beating he had taken. But they couldn't stop. Not here.

Sarah's pulse thundered in her ears, her thoughts a whirlwind of fear and determination. Every step felt like a struggle between survival and collapse. Her eyes darted around the narrow alley, searching for a place to hide, for any sign that someone—Nico, Adrian, or worse—was following them.

"Antonio, stay with me," she whispered urgently, shaking him slightly to keep him awake. His breathing was shallow, each exhale labored. He muttered something unintelligible, his words slurred, but his hand tightened weakly on her arm, a sign that he was still conscious—barely.

Her mind replayed Nico's parting words, his warning echoing in her head like a bad omen.

'You're walking a thin line, Sarah, and sooner or later, it's going to snap'.

She had already crossed too many lines, betrayed too many allegiances. Now she was caught between two worlds—the one she had tried to leave behind and the one that held her father's life hostage.

As they reached the end of the alley, the distant sound of footsteps echoed behind them, growing closer. Panic surged in her chest. There was no time. No safe place to go. Her eyes locked on a darkened doorway ahead, half-concealed by shadow, and without hesitation, she dragged Antonio toward it.

They slipped inside, Sarah pressing her back against the cold stone wall, holding her breath as the footsteps grew louder. She could hear them now—multiple people, their pace quickening as they approached. Her heart raced in time with their steps, every beat a countdown to disaster.

The footsteps paused, just outside. Sarah's pulse quickened, her hand instinctively tightening around Antonio's arm. She could feel the weight of his exhaustion, his body sagging against her. Every muscle in her body tensed as she strained to listen.

A voice, low and unfamiliar, spoke. "You're sure they came this way?"

Another voice responded, this one gruffer. "They couldn't have gotten far. Nico said they wouldn't be able to make it out of the district."

Sarah's heart sank. Adrian's men were already closing in. She hadn't been fast enough, hadn't thought far enough ahead. The walls around her seemed to close in, suffocating her with the weight of her decisions.

Antonio stirred beside her, his breath ragged. "Sarah..." he whispered, his voice barely audible, but the fear in it was unmistakable.

"Shh," she whispered back, her eyes locked on the thin line of light under the door. The footsteps shifted, and for a moment, it seemed like the men were about to move on.

But then one of them spoke again. "Check that door."

Panic surged through her veins, cold and relentless. She grabbed Antonio's arm, trying to steady him. They had to move. Now.

The doorknob rattled, the faint creak of metal sending a spike of terror through her. With a burst of adrenaline, Sarah shoved Antonio toward a staircase at the far end of the room. They stumbled forward, every second precious. She could hear the men outside, the scrape of the door slowly opening.

Up the stairs, their steps uneven and frantic, Sarah dragged Antonio along, her breath coming in sharp gasps. Every creak of the old wooden stairs seemed louder than a gunshot in the oppressive silence. She prayed they wouldn't be heard.

At the top of the stairs, they found themselves in another corridor, this one dimly lit by a single bulb flickering overhead. The air was thick with dust, the stale scent of disuse hanging in the air. Sarah's mind raced—there had to be a way out. A window, a back entrance, anything.

But before she could think further, Antonio collapsed, his legs giving out beneath him. He hit the floor hard, his breath ragged, eyes half-closed.

"Antonio!" Sarah whispered urgently, kneeling beside him. "You have to get up, we have to keep moving!"

His eyelids fluttered, his voice weak. "I... I can't..."

Fear clutched her heart as the sound of footsteps from below grew louder. They were coming. There was no time.

Sarah's gaze darted around the corridor, her eyes locking on a small window at the far end. It was their only chance. She grabbed Antonio's arm, desperation surging through her. "We're almost there," she said, her voice thick with fear and determination. "Just hold on."

The footsteps were closer now. They had seconds, maybe less.

She half-dragged, half-carried Antonio toward the window, her muscles screaming in protest. When they reached it, Sarah pushed it open, the cold night air rushing in. She turned to Antonio, her voice firm despite the panic coursing through her veins. "I'll go first. I'll pull you through after."

But as she hoisted herself up, a voice echoed from behind them.

"Going somewhere?"

She froze. The footsteps stopped. And then, slowly, the sound of a gun cocking.