THE DEVILS KEEPSAKE

Jasmine Carter pressed her back against the cold stone wall, her breath shallow, her heart hammering violently in her chest. The dimly lit warehouse smelled of rust and old wood, the air thick with the scent of something far worse—blood.



She barely dared to peek past the crates stacked beside her, their shadows swallowing her small frame. But the sounds... God, the sounds were enough to paint a vivid picture.



Thud.



A strangled cry followed—a raw, agonized sound that sent a shiver down her spine. Jasmine squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to stay silent. How many times had she heard that already? A weak, broken voice whimpered, “P-please… I-I’ll do anything. Just don't kill me I have a wife and kids".



Silence stretched for a moment. Then, a voice—smooth, patient, almost kind.



“Then start talking.”



Jasmine knew that voice.



The man standing in the middle of this bloodstained floor, the man coaxing information from his victim as if they were sharing pleasantries over dinner...That man was Lucas Salvatore.



And she he was her crush