Amelia Clarke looped her arm through Mason Carter's as they walked forward. Somehow, her heart suddenly thumped twice heavily, sending a chill down her spine.
The feeling of being watched crept up on her from behind.
Just as she was about to look back—
Suddenly.
Clang!
The sound of metal striking the floor echoed crisply throughout the vacant hotel lobby.
"Ah! A knife!" A male voice abruptly rose, "Quick, call the police! There's someone here with a weapon."
Amelia gasped inwardly and turned to look. Three meters away from her, a man in a black down jacket was twisting the wrist of a woman in a black coat, who wore sunglasses and a mask, obscuring her face.
Lying quietly between them on the floor was a knife, its blade sharp and casting a bone-chilling gleam under the lights.
The voice of the man in the black down jacket alarmed the hotel staff, and several security guards rapidly gathered around.
