Intruder
The room fell into a tense silence as Rafael asked his question. Marco didn't respond; instead, he turned and walked into his closet. Something felt off the moment he stepped inside.
His sharp eyes quickly zeroed in on a small locker that had been moved slightly. Behind it, a door usually concealed by clothes stood ajar. Marco distinctly remembered closing it last.
His gaze hardened as he reached for one of the short guns hidden within the room. Without hesitation, he grabbed it and returned to the bedroom, his movements swift and deliberate.
'Why is he holding a gun?' Rafael's heart leaped into his throat as Marco reappeared, the gun gleaming ominously in his hand.
He instinctively stepped back, his pulse pounding in his ears, but Marco moved closer, his expression intense yet controlled.
As Marco closed the distance between them, Rafael's mind raced. His body trembled with fear and confusion.