Peter’s room that afternoon was filled with the soft scent of rose perfume brought by Christine.
Outside, sunlight filtered through the curtains, reflecting off the glass table and casting a faint yellow glow on the walls.
Peter sat on the edge of the bed in a wrinkled white shirt, while Christine stood near the window, staring outside with a calculating expression.
“I’ve thought everything through,” she said without turning.
Her voice was calm, but beneath that calmness was something that made the air in the room feel tense.
“My people are ready.”
Peter looked at her with a frown.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Christine? I don’t want anything bad to happen.”
Christine turned slowly, her lips curling into a thin smile that almost resembled a sneer.
“You’re too soft, Peter. We’re talking about Florentina—a girl who may know more than she’s saying. We need to get to her before anyone else does.”
Peter let out a long sigh.
“You still haven’t told me who they are—your people.”
“Old friends,” Christine replied casually, stepping toward the table and placing a blue folder on it.
She opened it, revealing two blurry photos taken from the CCTV cameras of the Grand Medica pharmacy.
One of the photos showed Florentina behind the cashier desk, wearing a white uniform with a small name tag that read **Flora**.
“She still works at the Grand Medica pharmacy. Her schedule is fixed—starts at nine, leaves at five in the afternoon.”
Peter stared at the photo for a long time, as if he couldn’t believe the girl in the picture was the same person he once knew.
“You’ve been following her?”
“Of course,” Christine replied as she closed the folder.
“And now it’s time to act.”
“What’s your plan?” Peter finally asked, his voice heavy, as if he wanted to refuse but lacked the strength to truly oppose her.
Christine stepped closer and sat in the chair right in front of him.
Her gaze was sharp, slick like glass.
“Two of my friends will go to the pharmacy. One of them will pretend to be sick—even faint there. While everyone is busy helping, my other friend will slip into the back room, approach Flora… and take her.” She smiled cunningly, her eyes glinting with satisfaction.
Peter swallowed hard.
“And after that?
What will you do to her?”
“Don’t worry,” Christine replied, her tone gentle but carrying something dangerous.
“Flora will come to your house intact… maybe a little sleepy.”
She smiled again, and this time the smile felt like the shadow of a coiling snake in the afternoon light.
From a small monitor hidden in another room, Braddy listened to everything.
His face turned pale.
He stared at the screen—the image of Christine and Peter clearly captured by the tiny camera he had installed days ago.
“A dangerous plan,” he muttered softly.
He knew what “sleepy” meant in Christine’s dictionary.
Sedatives.
Kidnapping.
And if Christine was bold enough to do this, then there was something much bigger she was hiding.
### **The Operation Begins**
That afternoon, the Grand Medica pharmacy looked as busy as usual.
The waiting room was filled with customers: mothers waiting for prescriptions, young employees just off work, and several elderly patients sitting patiently on a long bench.
Behind the glass counter, Flora was busy checking receipts and recording transactions.
The air inside the pharmacy was a mix of medicinal smells, antiseptic, and a hint of cinnamon from a diffuser in the corner.
Nothing seemed unusual—everything was normal.
But outside, two casually dressed men were walking toward the entrance.
One was tall and thin, wearing a gray hoodie with a cap covering part of his face.
The other was muscular, with sharp eyes and steady steps.
They looked like ordinary customers.
“This is the place?” the tall one whispered.
“Yeah,” the muscular one replied, glancing at the security camera above the door.
“Remember the plan. When I give the signal, you drop.”
As they stepped inside, the cold air from the AC greeted them.
They took a queue number and sat in the waiting area.
Five minutes passed quietly.
Then suddenly, the man in the cap shook his head, clutched his chest, and collapsed with a loud *thud* onto the floor.
“Hey! Help! My friend fainted!” the muscular man shouted in a panic that sounded very convincing.
People in the waiting room rushed toward them.
A middle-aged woman let out a small scream, while the pharmacy staff quickly came forward with water and asked for space.
“Move! Move! Let us help!” one of the employees said.
Amid the chaos, the muscular man winked at someone near the medicine shelves—a neatly dressed young man in a blue shirt and light blazer.
That was the signal.
The young man moved quickly.
He crossed the waiting room lightly, then slipped into a small door labeled **Administration Room – Staff Only**.
No one noticed because everyone was focused on the “fainted victim” at the front.
### **Attack in the Back Room**
Flora, who was sitting in the administration room, heard the commotion outside.
She straightened up and looked at her coworker.
“What’s going on out there?” she asked anxiously.
“They said someone fainted,” a nurse replied while hurrying out.
“I’ll check it.”
Flora nodded and got up, about to help.
But after only two steps, someone appeared from behind the door.
He wore a medical mask and gloves, looking like a healthcare worker.
“Excuse me, may I take some medicine from the back cabinet? There’s a patient who needs it urgently,” he said in a calm but slightly rushed tone.
Flora hesitated, but before she could respond, the man moved with unexpected speed.
His left hand covered Flora’s mouth and nose with a cloth soaked in a sharp-smelling liquid.
Flora tried to struggle, but her strength faded.
Her vision began to spin.
Before she lost consciousness completely, she heard a cold whisper in her ear:
“Sorry, miss. Just for a moment.”
Her body went limp.
The man quickly supported her and led her down a narrow corridor toward the side exit of the pharmacy.
Outside, a black van without official plates was already waiting, its back door open.
Flora was lifted inside, and the van sped out of the parking area.
### **A Shadow at the Turn**
Not far from there, at the end of the street, the sound of a motorcycle engine rumbled softly.
A rider in a black leather jacket and full-face helmet watched the scene from a distance.
It was Braddy.
He arrived just seconds after the chaos began.
After hearing Christine’s plan from his surveillance feed, he rushed out, hoping to stop something bad.
But now, from his bike, he could only watch as Florentina was taken away by well-dressed strangers he didn’t recognize.
“Damn,” he muttered.
He started his engine and began to follow.
The van sped away, leaving the city center toward quieter roads.
Braddy followed from a distance, keeping space so he wouldn’t be noticed.
He glanced at the small map on his phone mounted on the dashboard—the vehicle wasn’t heading toward the Terano family home, as Christine had promised.
Instead, it took a detour east, passing through rarely used industrial roads.
Braddy grew more suspicious.
“Not to Peter’s house,” he whispered.
“Then… where?”
He accelerated.
The engine roared through the afternoon wind as he followed the van across empty land lined with dry fields.
### **An Old House on the Outskirts**
Nearly thirty minutes later, the van turned onto a dusty narrow road leading to an old house surrounded by wild grass and a rusty fence.
The building looked abandoned—peeling paint, windows partially boarded up.
But there were signs of life: thin smoke rose from a small chimney, and a dim yellow light glowed inside.
The van stopped in front of the house.
Two men stepped out and opened the back door.
Efficiently, they carried Flora’s unconscious body inside.
The door closed slowly with a long creak.
Braddy turned off his engine and hid his bike behind the bushes.
His breathing was heavy.
He stared at the house, his mind racing.
*This isn’t Christine’s plan.
Something has changed.*
He pulled out his phone and tried to call a number he knew.
No connection.
Again.
No answer.
Braddy bit his lip.
“So you don’t know where they took her either?” he muttered.
He stared at the house.
The silhouettes of the two men were faintly visible behind the worn curtains.
Then something moved inside—another shadow, taller, with a firm posture.
Its face was unseen.
*Who is that?* Braddy wondered.
He lowered his head and activated the small camera on his helmet.
The indicator light turned green.
“Alright,” he said softly.
“If they want to play dirty, I’ll join them.”
### **Darkness Welcomes**
From afar, the house looked calm.
But to Braddy, hiding among the trees, that calmness felt like a warning before a storm.
He knew the next step was extremely risky.
But if he waited too long, Flora might never come out.
Or she might come out in a condition far worse than expected.
He felt the small pistol inside his jacket—a weapon he hadn’t used since leaving his old job.
Then, with one deep breath, he began to move slowly toward the house.
The evening wind carried a damp, dusty scent.
Above, clouds thickened, covering the fading sun beyond the horizon.
Meanwhile, inside the house, someone opened the basement door.
A dim light revealed Flora still unconscious on a wooden chair.
Heavy footsteps approached.
And a voice spoke softly, almost like a whisper:
“Welcome, Florentina. It’s been a long time.”
Outside, Braddy stopped just behind a cracked window.
He heard the voice too.
His eyes sharpened, his jaw tightened.
And at that moment, one thought crossed his mind:
*Christine has no idea what’s really going on.
But someone behind the shadows—someone far more dangerous than anyone he has ever faced—is now in play.*