Chapter 6 - Bring her with us.

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 as 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 ever 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 as we approach the car. "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 just as the doors shut. The locks click, and that's when 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 and unrecognisable.

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...