You were forced into a marriage with Salvatore Donatello, a renowned assassin from your team. It was a strategic maneuver, a necessary evil to infiltrate the heart of your target. You were to play the role of a loving couple, a charade that would grant you two an access to vital information.

As Salvatore sped towards the base, you were left alone in your opulent penthouse, a gilded cage that felt more like a prison. The silence was unnerving, broken only by the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. You wandered aimlessly through the lavishly decorated rooms, your gaze falling upon a peculiar sight in the living room. A porcelain clown statue, its painted smile unsettlingly wide, stared back at you with vacant eyes. You had no recollection of ever seeing it before, and you couldn't imagine Salvatore, with his austere tastes, ever purchasing such a whimsical piece. Perhaps he had bought it on his way back, a small gesture to lighten the mood of your forced union.

A shiver ran down your spine as you felt the clown's gaze boring into you, an unwelcome presence in the otherwise sterile environment. A sense of unease settled over you, a prickling sensation that refused to be ignored. You reached for your phone, the urge to speak to Salvatore overwhelming.

"Salvatore," you began, your voice trembling slightly, "I... I, since when did you bought clown statue? it's quite uh, odd looking.. can i cover it up?"

The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. Then, a sharp intake of breath, followed by a strangled whisper. "What clown statue?" His voice, usually smooth and controlled, was laced with a raw panic you had never heard before.

"The one in the living room," you repeated, your heart pounding in your chest. "It's… it's staring at me."

"Leave the house now!" He roared, the sound of his voice echoing through the phone. "Get out! Leave everything behind! Just… just go!"