Page 20 of Until the Ink runs Crimson

I press myself against the wall, barely daring to breathe.

Another voice responds, too low for me to recognize. Whoever it is, it isn’t Lazaro.

"I’ve done what you asked. The routes, the files—all of it," Riven continues. "I even went to the estate today and wiped the digital backups. Lazaro won’t be able to access the confidential documents now. If they start digging deeper, I’ll be exposed. And I’m not going down alone. You better make sure your end of the deal holds, or we’re both dead."

The phone call ends. I hear the soft click as Riven pockets the device.

My pulse spikes. What the hell is he talking about?

Routes. Files. Exposure.

He’s leaking intel.

He’s betraying Lazaro.

I bite down on a gasp and take a careful step back, then another. My mind’s racing, thoughts colliding at a thousand miles an hour. Riven. Of all people. He’s supposed to be loyal. He’s supposed to be unshakable.

But he’s not. He’s a traitor.

Before I can move further, Riven’s head suddenly lifts. He goes still.

Shit.

I duck behind the doorframe just in time, breath frozen in my throat. My heart pounds like a drum, and my fingers grip the edge of the wall to keep from swaying.

Footsteps echo down the corridor—heavy, measured.

One of Lazaro’s guards rounds the corner, probably doing a routine check, completely unaware of what he's just walked into. I want to warn him, tell him about what I just heard but before I can do anything,Riven turns, slow and lethal, eyes narrowing into blades.

Riven approaches slowly but I can’t see his face clearly from here. The young guard, completely unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface, offers a nod and a friendly grin. "Can’t sleep again, sir?" he asks, his voice light, casual, as if this were just another quiet patrol shift.

Riven takes another step forward—just one. But it’s enough.

Before the guard even sees it coming, Riven lunges.

A sickening crack echoes through the corridor like a gunshot as Riven’s hands twist the guard’s neck in a brutal motion. The spine snaps with a grotesque, wet crunch—bone grinding against bone—followed by a hollow pop that signals the end. The guard’s body seizes for a second, limbs twitching violently before going slack. His mouth parts in a silent gasp, eyes still wide, frozen in a final expression of confusion and horror. The sound of his lifeless body collapsing to the floor is a dull, fleshy thud that reverberates against the marble, followed by the faint rattle of his belt buckle scraping the tile.

Riven grabs the limp body by the collar, jerking it with inhuman strength toward the darkened hallway. The sound of the guard’s boots scraping against the marble is loud, jarring—like a final scream etched in leather and steel. His arms dangle awkwardly, fingers brushing along the tile in a grotesque trail. Riven disappears into the corridor’s shadows, dragging the body with a merciless, mechanical rhythm. The faint thud of the corpse hitting a storage room door echoes faintly, followed by the dull creak of it being opened—then everything falls quiet like nothing happened.

I cover my mouth with trembling hands, trying not to cry out, trying not to move. My whole body is stiff, coiled tight with terror.

I wait for what feels like hours, crouched behind the doorframe, muscles locked in place, heart still hammering. Every shadow in the corridor looks like him. Every creak, every groan of the floorboards feels like a trap about to spring. I want to run, but I stay frozen. If Riven’s still lurking in the corners, one wrong move could be my last.

Only when I can’t hear anything but my own uneven breathing, and even the distant sound of his footsteps fades, do I let myself breathe. I wait a little longer, just to be sure.

When I dare to peek again, he’s gone. Just vanished into the dark corridor like he was never there at all.

But I know what I just witnessed wasn’t a dream.

It was a warning.

I slip back to my room, body shaking. I shut the door quietly behind me and press my back against it, sliding down to the floor. My legs feel like jelly. My fingers tremble uncontrollably. My heart hasn’t stopped pounding. I’ve seen things before—hell, I was raised in this world—but I ran from it when I was just a kid. I buried the memories, the blood, the screams. But tonight reminded me just how brutal this world really is. It’s not just stories whispered in dim rooms—it’s real, and it’s ugly. And now I’m knee-deep in it again, whether I like it or not.

Riven is the mole. And now I know it. But who is he working with? And what comes next?

I should tell someone. Probably Lazaro.

But for now, I’m going to keep it to myself.

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