L A N A

I don't know how long I've been walking for, but I know it's long enough for my legs to feel shredded.

The cold creates goosebumps and shivers along my skin, and my heels are now working against me. I probably should've taken them off the moment I ran out of there, but they were expensive, very expensive... Well, according to what Tyler told me...

Ugh. 

No matter what I do, I simply can not escape the thought of him, of what he's done, with him and Elizabeth...

My feet are sore, but somehow, my mind isn't so much focused on the pain; instead, a different kind of pain plagues my thoughts. I can't believe I was humiliated like that. How could I let them do that to me, treat me like that? I begin thinking of what else I should've said, how I should've reacted, but I was too stunned to do anything that really mattered...

I make my way through the night as the city buzzes around me, having no clue what has happened to me. I stumble through it, somewhere between rage and shock and right now, I'm not even crying anymore. That part's done. My face is smudged with makeup and tears, my body stiff, but I keep moving. I don't know where I'm going, just away. Far enough that no one can find me and tell me this wasn't real.

That they didn't really turn on me.

That he didn't really say those things.

That she wasn't in his bed this whole time.

I pass corner stores, past flashing neon signs and fast-food joints that smell like grease and burnt dreams. A group of drunk guys yells something at me from across the street, but I don't hear what it is, thankfully, and just keep walking, my arms wrapped around myself and my head down. One of them starts to follow for a second, but a passing cop car sends him scurrying. Doesn't matter. I'm already too far gone.

I could've just gone home. But how can I even do that...? It'll only make the betrayal worse and make the pain heavier. I don't want to have to think about how many times he would sneak her into our apartment when I was at work, how many times the two of them had slept together in my own bed...

No. I can't manage thinking about that right now; it's only going to drive me crazy. The best thing I can do is book a hotel. At least for the night, until I can figure out what I'm going to do... Thankfully, I still have my purse, my phone and my card. Even though Tyler was providing for both of us, I also worked as a graphic designer and media specialist, so I had a little money of my own. Not as much as he does, but enough to keep myself afloat... And though it'll take some time, I'll be able to get back up on my feet after this.

I sigh to myself and glance around me, trying to spot any bars or restaurants I could stay in while before I book an Uber and a hotel for the night, and maybe get a drink or two... or five. 

I look around my for a moment, until one building catches my eye, gleaming with a red neon sign that reads...

Bella...

The name doesn't ring any bells, but something about the glow of that red neon pulls me in. Maybe it's the way the light bleeds onto the sidewalk like spilt wine, or it's how different it feels from the rest of this cold, indifferent city.

I make my way towards it, but hesitate at the entrance. The double doors are dark wood, polished so clean I can see my miserable reflection in them. My makeup is mostly gone, my hair wind-snatched and chaotic. I look completely insane. I quickly gather myself and run my hands through my hair so I look somewhat presentable, just so that they don't kick me out before I can enter. All I need is just somewhere I can sit, where it's quiet and warm, somewhere that doesn't remind me of everything I've lost tonight and a place where I can just have a moment to think.

And so, I finally push the door open.

The smell hits first. Rich cologne, aged liquor and cigars. It smells like class more notably... money. The lighting is low, ambient, and mysterious, a mix of red and purple and orange. I hear the soft hum of jazz ring through the air, and so I glance around to find a live band playing, tucked in a cosy corner of the room. A piano, saxophone and double bass echo-filled the room, and it brings a soft smile to my face as I walk in. I do really love jazz and soul music, so it's something I can appreciate...

A beautiful woman greets me at a small desk near the entrance. Her black dress hugs her graciously, and her hair is pinned up like she's walked out of an old film.

"Buonasera," she lets out, her accent light and polished, European maybe, and I have no idea what she's saying.

"How may I help you, signorina?" She asks with a polite smile, and that's when I realise she might be speaking Italian.

I pause. "Um. I was hoping to just... sit somewhere. Maybe get a few drinks." I sigh heavily.

She gives an understanding nod, staring at me without judgment. "Of course. Please, follow me."

I give her a small smile before glancing around as I walk behind her. The place is mostly filled with sharply dressed men and even sharper-looking women. It looks like the type of place where you order your whiskey neat and everyone knows your name but says it quietly. It's luxe without being flashy, and intimate but intimidating.

Maybe I should leave...

But then again, maybe this is exactly the kind of place I need to be right now. Somewhere, no one knows me, where I can pretend I'm not the girl who got dumped, betrayed and slapped in front of a hundred people...

The hostess guides me to a bar, bringing my attention back to the present. The stools are leather, and the bar top is deep mahogany. The bartender is tall, clean-cut, and looks like he belongs on the cover of a magazine. He is perfectly handsome. Seems all the staff here is just effortlessly attractive. He smiles gently as I sit down, cleaning a few cups before throwing the towel in his hands over his shoulder.

"What can I get for you tonight, beautiful?" he asks, a flirtatious smile on his lips as he looks back at me.

I'm unable to help the smile that forms on my face as he looks down at me. But then I let it fade as a sharp pang hits my chest. I can't be smiling at another guy flirting with me... what would Tyler think? That would be cheating?

My thoughts are instinctual, and quickly, I remind myself that I no longer owe any loyalty to him. He's chosen to do whatever he wants, so why the hell can't I?

I lean against the bar, maintaining eye contact with him as a warmer smile appears on my lips. "3 shots of rum, please. And your nicest berry cocktail."

He arches a brow before a chuckle leaves his lips, nodding gently before he gets to work.

I settle in, letting the heat of the room wrap around me. It's the first time all night I've felt even remotely grounded, and maybe I should soak it all in.

He sets the shot glasses in front of me, bringing my attention back to him.

"Rough night?" he asks.

"You have no idea," I answer before grabbing the first shot class and downing it in a second. Then the next, then the next. It burns, but it's clean and expensive. I sincerely hope it does the trick in helping me numb myself. I sigh to myself once I've downed all of them, shaking my head for a moment before taking a sip of the cocktail, letting it slip down my throat and soothe it.

I finally allow myself to relax... but it seemingly only lasts for a moment...

I soon hear a series of footsteps echo through the room, and it makes me turn to my right, my eyes landing on the people who have just walked through the entrance.

The moment they do, the air suddenly shifts, becoming much heavier, and I don't seem to be the only one who notices it. No one says a word, but the atmosphere changes like a cold front just blew in. Conversations quiet down, and glasses lower. Eyes lift, not casually, but like they're watching for danger.

And then I see them. The five men who enter the room, immediately sending my heart racing for no apparent reason...

The one in front moves like he owns the place. He is dressed in an expensive-looking charcoal grey suit, gold cufflinks, and black leather gloves that he keeps on the entire time. In fact, all of them have gloves on... He has silky brown hair, slicked to the back, and he is extremely handsome. But his expression makes me feel uneasy, a sudden coldness passing through my body...

Alarm bells go haywire in my mind, my intuition immediately telling me to be on high alert...

And somehow in my gut, I know he's trouble...

L A N A

The four men behind him are huge, all of them wearing the same matching black suits, all of them moving with the same precision, scanning the room suspiciously as they stick to the man in front of them. Are they... bodyguards?

"Don't stare for too long or you'll get yourself in trouble." I hear the voice of the bartender, and that's when I look back at him, curiously, noticing that even he is trying to keep his head low.

"Who is that...?" I suddenly find myself asking for God knows what ever reason. The bartender pauses what he's doing and looks back at me as if I've just asked the most absurd question on the planet.

A deep frown settles on his brows, and he glances around a few times as if to check if anyone is listening. "How can you be here and not know who that is...?" He asks, his voice quiet and low, and my heart won't stop racing in my chest. What is he not telling me?

"That's Ezio Benedetti." He whispers as if I'm supposed to know who that is. More confusion reigns on my face as I glance back at the man, watching as he strides through the club like he owns every inch of it. I look back at the bartender and find his expression fixed on someone, Ezio, I presume, and in a moment, his expression turns cold.

The bartender shifts closer to me, his voice still low. "Whatever you do, don't react. Just breathe." He tries to say, but all it does is make me even more nervous.

"Why, what's going on?" I whisper to him, feeling too scared to turn around.

"Don't make eye contact. Stay calm. You're just a guest." He says, refusing to answer my question, and I breathe slowly to try and calm myself, picking up my drink and taking a large gulp of it as I feel the alcohol slowly hit my body.

My hands suddenly go clammy, and I find it hard to keep still. I'm supposed to be ordering an Uber right now and getting out of here, not trying to figure out who this mysterious man with 4 bodyguards is...

I subtly turn back and watch as Ezio walks with effortless grace to the back of the lounge. His men, just as sharp, just as silent, move closely behind him. He stops beside a man sitting at a private corner booth. They don't shake hands. They don't smile. The man simply looks up at Ezio, staring as if he's seen a ghost, the men around him suddenly standing to their feet in pure terror.

Then, what happens next leaves me completely stunned...

It happens in a split second.

One second, Ezio is saying something to the man across from him, watching him seemingly plead for his life, the next, he is whipping out his gun faster than the eye can catch and shoots the man at point-blank.

I jolt, before my entire body freezes.

The gunshot is sharp. Not explosive or too loud. Instead, it's muffled and controlled through the silencer fitted at its tip. The music cuts for a second, the instrumentalists momentarily stunned, before they take a look at each other... and then... they continue playing... like nothing just happened.

What.. the actual... fuck...

The man Ezio was speaking to slumps sideways in the booth, with a gunshot wound to his forehead, blood spewing out the back of his head and spilling onto the floor.

I glance around the room and notice how no one else reacts; in fact, everyone is perfectly calm despite a man just getting shot and killed in front of them.

My throat closes up. My brain stops processing.

Did I just see that? Didn't everyone else see that?! Why am I the only one giving a normal reaction?

Ezio steps back, placing his gun back in his pocket and adjusting his jacket. Two of the men standing behind him step forward to carry the dead man out of the room, and more men pile in with cleaning supplies, moving towards the areas where the deceased man had spilt blood.

Okay, what the fuck is this place?!

People go back to their drinks. Slowly. Like this is routine. Like this is just another Tuesday night.

But me, on the other hand? I can't move.

I can't pretend I didn't see what I just saw. My breath catches in my chest, and that's when Ezio turns and locks eyes with me. That's when I feel the air sucked out of my lungs, my blood turning cold.

He smirks right at me, a slow, evil smile that says, 'You saw. I know you did.' Except he is not at all sorry that I did...

I try to look away, but I can't. I feel pinned to the seat, like a rabbit in a trap.

He lifts two fingers and gestures, ordering the remaining two men behind him to approach me.

No. No. No.

That's when I slide off the barstool without thinking, my heart pounding so hard, the fear causing a knot to form in my throat and my stomach. As I stand up, a wave hits me harshly, and that's when I feel the alcohol start to kick in. No... no, no, no, no... this can't be happening to me right now...

"Don't run," the bartender says under his breath, making an attempt to talk some sense into me.

But I'm already on my feet, with the only intention of getting the fuck out of here. I take off sprinting towards the lounge doors, watching them draw closer and closer. I'm almost completely through them, until I collide with two bodies in front of me, two large men who had been standing close to the entrance this whole time. 

I gasp as I stumble back, staring back at them fearfully and glancing around at where else I can go. I turn my head to the receptionist from earlier, hoping she would help me in some sort of way, but all she does is watch me with raised eyebrows, as if I'm the only strange one here. I continue backing away, my back bumps into something that makes me gasp, more men... more of his bodyguards. They all surround me, staring down at me with cold, robotic gazes. That's when two of them grab and turn me around, beginning to haul me back into the lounge as I begin struggling against their hold, exasperated breaths leaving my lips as I look up at them fearfully. 

"L-let me go... please!" I begin fighting them as they lift me off the ground effortlessly, holding me by my arms as if I weighed nothing. And that's when I realise that they're taking me right towards him... towards the man they call Ezio Benedetti...

L A N A

I can hear my heartbeat in my ears.

I'm terrified, my body vibrating with fear as I am dragged forward, my heels scraping the floor. The men lifting me have not a care in the world, and despite my cries for them to stop, they never do. Jazz continues to play in the lounge, as if I'm not screaming my lungs out. The music doesn't stop. No one else says a word. No one even looks concerned. They just... watch. They pretend and sip their drinks, as if I'm nothing but a mere spectacle. As if a man wasn't just shot in front of them and a woman isn't being dragged toward the murderer right now.

All of this feels unreal, like I've slipped through an invisible crack in the world and landed somewhere I was never meant to be... and now? Now I might potentially lose my life.

I try to fight them off, digging my heels into the floor, but they barely notice. They're way too strong. 

"Stop, let me go! Let go of me!!" I continue thrashing around, doing my best to fight them but all I feel is my arms getting more and more tired.

"Keep walking," one of them says without looking at me, his voice cold and flat as if I were boring him... 

And that's when I see him again...

Ezio Benedetti.

He's standing near the bar now, turning slightly as if waiting to greet me. The orange light hits his face, showing how devilishly handsome he is, his dark hair, his sharp jaw... everything about him screams danger. He looks so calm, so collected, like none of this touches him... like he didn't just kill a man in cold blood.

And as soon as his eyes meet mine, the air becomes even heavier.

They're dark, but not just in colour. He's studying me curiously, like I'm something strange, out of place. Like I don't belong here. And yet, I see something more sinister in his eyes, something that leaves me completely and utterly terrified.

I'm shoved forward, stumbling, almost falling, but one of the men steadies me roughly. I catch myself and look up, realising that Ezio is right in front of me, towering over me and standing only inches away.

"I haven't seen you here before," he says, voice smooth and deep, sending chills running along my skin. He sounds almost casual, as if we're meeting at a dinner party. "You're a new face... I would've remembered one as beautiful as yours..." he says softly with a sly smirk. He then takes a glove off one hand and steps even closer to me. His cologne reaches my nose, and it's powerful, masculine, and so intoxicating it blinds my senses.

But I am too petrified to speak. I can't even swallow properly. My mouth is dry and my heart is hammering so hard that I can barely think. I watch him step forward, staring down at me before placing his hand on my face tenderly, cupping my cheek in his hand and tracing my skin so delicately, I almost forget what he had done only a few minutes ago.

He tilts his head slightly, the faintest trace of a smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. "You don't seem to understand how things work around here, do you love?" He whispers to me.

I blink a few times, trying my best to gather the words before I finally speak.

"I-... I didn't know. I just walked in. I swear. I didn't mean to-..." I shake my head, tears now filling my eyes as I realise he might kill me at any moment...

"And yet, you stayed.. hm?" His tone doesn't change, but his eyes narrow, like he's dissecting every word as he keeps his hand on my face, continuing to caress my cheek.

"Please," I whisper, tears now dropping from my eyes. "Please don't hurt me. I won't say anything. I don't even know who you are..."

He smiles faintly, and that almost makes it worse. He takes a hand off my face and steps away from me, putting his glove back on.

"Clearly." He sighs, and that single word makes my heart sink to my feet.

He looks at me for a long time, and I feel stripped down and exposed. Like he's not just seeing me, but he's seeing right through me. My knees feel weak and I don't know where to look. I want to scream, to run, to do something, but I'm frozen. All I can simply do is stare back at him...

After what seems like forever, he sighs deeply and glances at one of the men behind me. 

"Bring her with us," he says, his voice calm. "I'd like to go home now."

For a second, I think I've misheard him. But no, he said exactly what I think he did.

"W-what?" I stutter, and before I even realise what's happening, the men start moving again, their grips returning to my arms and tightening around them.

"No, please-... no! You can't! Where are you taking me?!" I begin shouting once again. He simply ignores me walks past, towards another side of the club just as his men begin dragging me in that direction.

No one answers. Not him, not his men, not anyone.

I twist and thrash, panic returning to my body. I look around the room again, until my eyes find the bartender, the only person who looked remotely human tonight. But he's standing completely still, staring down at the counter like if he doesn't move, he won't be noticed. His jaw is tight, his eyes dark, but he doesn't speak.

He won't save me. No one will.

My stomach drops as they continue leading me away. I stumble after them, my heels clicking frantically against the polished floor, my breath coming in shallow exasperated bursts.

Ezio walks a few steps ahead, his hands in his pockets, his pace unhurried. He looks like a man on his way home from work, not someone who just murdered someone and ordered a kidnapping in the same ten minutes.

Every time I open my mouth to speak, the words die on my tongue. Every plea I left out falls on deaf, unbothered ears.

I keep thinking maybe this is a dream. Maybe I hit my head. From the moment I found out Tyler had been cheating on me with Elizabeth. Maybe I'm going to wake up in my bed, maybe still with Tyler, and none of this never truly happened.

But the closer we get to the end of the hallway, the clearer it becomes that this is all terrifyingly real.

We reach a door that leads to a private garage. It's sleek, silent, expensive, one where people like me never see unless it's in a magazine. A black car waits inside, its headlights cutting through the shadows and blaring right at me.

My pulse spikes. "Please," I whisper again. "Please, just let me go. I won't say anything. I'll forget all of this." I try to say to them.

Ezio turns his head slightly, his expression seemingly amused. "No one forgets their first night here, love," he says quietly. His words offer no comfort to me, and all I feel is my blood run cold. 

The car door opens, but I dig my heels into the ground, trying my best to resist. "I'm not going with you! You can't make me!" I scream at them. But it's all useless.

One of the men nudges me forward, harder this time. I stumble, and this time, Ezio catches me before I fall. His hands wrap around my upper arms, holding me steady as he looks down at me, watching the tears I can no longer control, stream down my cheeks.

"You're scared." He says to me.

How can he even say this to me right now? As if it's not blatantly obvious??

Then he leans forward slightly, moving his face to my ear, his voice low enough that only I can hear it. "You should be."

My breath catches and I feel my blood run completely cold.

He straightens, smiling down at me as if amused by my reaction, and gestures to his men. "In the car." He orders.

I want to scream, to claw my way out of this, but all I can do is move. My body obeys even when my mind doesn't want to. I sink into the leather seat, the cold pressing through the thin fabric of my dress as I wrap my arms around myself in an attempt to provide some sort of comfort.

Ezio slides in beside me, smooth and composed, as if this is routine. The doors shut, the locks click, and we begin driving out of the garage and into the city.

I stare out the tinted window, and though I can barely see a thing, I try to memorise the streetlights, the corners, anything that might help me find my way back. But the world outside only turns into streaks of colour and shadow.

During the ride, none of us speaks. The car hums quietly, a low vibration beneath my hands, and my reflection in the glass looks pale, ghostly.

Tears continue streaming down my cheeks as I cry quietly. I think about Tyler. About Elizabeth. About how, hours ago, I thought my heart was breaking. I didn't know what heartbreak was then.

I know now.

Because whatever this is, whatever world I've been dragged into, it doesn't care about hearts. It only cares about power. And as I glance at the man sitting next to me... calm, dangerous, and utterly untouchable, I realise I've just met the kind of power that doesn't need to raise its voice to destroy you.

And somehow, I think he knows it too...