Chapter 5 - The Red Dot
"He’s watching us right now?" she whimpered, her fingers clutching the edge of the piano bench.
"Yes," he replied coolly. "He is watching every move. Every breath. Which means we must give him a show."
Suddenly, his heavy hand slammed down onto the piano keys, creating a jarring, dissonant chord that crashed through the quiet room.
"Play!" he shouted loudly, his voice echoing with calculated cruelty for the hidden microphone. "You made another mistake, girl! Play the sequence again, or the price will be far higher than a few thousand dollars!"
Anaëlle caught on instantly. Despite her terror, her instincts as a performer kicked in. She gasped loudly, letting out a convincing sob. "Please! I’m trying! I don't understand what you want!"
"You know the song!" he roared, leaning down close to her ear while his voice maintained its terrifying volume. In a whisper meant only for her, he added, "Good girl. Keep acting. Play the second sequence. The middle movement."
Her trembling hands returned to the ivory. She began to play again, her fingers flying over the keys with frantic precision. But as she played, her mind raced.
If Hector Vance was behind the mirror, who was the man standing behind her? Why was he risking his life to protect her? And why did his voice—despite its harshness—carry an underlying tone of agonizing familiarity?
Clack.
May you like
The second mechanical lock inside the piano disengaged.
A heavy thud echoed from the back of the room. The sound of a heavy steel door unlatching echoed across the marble floor. Vance was coming in.
