Escaping The Mafia Devil

“I said she’s not going anywhere!” I scowled, standing between Clara and the large man with my arms stretched apart.

“Gwen, you shouldn’t.” Clara trembled behind me, tugging my shirt, but I looked straight into the man’s eyes, or rather eye, since the left was completely closed with a large scar.

He and his friends couldn’t just stomp into my home and force my best friend to follow them no matter how menacing they looked.

“Move, runt.” He scowled and grabbed my wrist, wanting to drag me away, but I brought his hand to my mouth and bit it.

“F*ck,” he cursed as he let go of me. “You’re going to regret that bi—”

“Marco!” A rich, deep, baritone voice boomed through the room, pursing Marco’s punch and all eyes turned to the man sitting on the couch with a cigar in his hand.

He hadn’t mentioned a word since he entered my small living room but his suffocating, commanding presence told me he was in control while the others were minions. Even as I tried to protect my best friend, my eyes couldn't help but stray to him.

There was something about him that just snagged my attention.

“What did I tell you about hitting a woman?” He scolded, dropping his cigarette on the floor and squashing it under his foot.

“I’m—”

“I don’t appreciate cigarettes on my floor.” I said, cutting off Marco as I glared at the man.

The temperature of the room dropped, and I knew what ran through everybody’s mind at that moment. How dare I tell him what to do? Clara clung to my shirt as if asking me if I had gone mad.

He stood up and walked to me, and Marco stepped aside smirking . I held my breath, my pulse racing as I fought the urge to step back. For a moment, his height and imposing build made me feel small.

His tailored suit and slicked-back black hair suggested he was a gentleman, but his blue eyes were too cold, too stormy, and they stared straight into my soul.

“You’re quite a brave one, brave and foolish.” He smirked.

“D-don’t do anything to her, Lorenzo. I’ll come with you.” Clara begged, popping out from behind me.

“She won’t.” I pulled her behind me, sheltering her from the dark angel.

“Gwen, please. You don’t understand; he’s my uncle. I have—”

“You don’t have to do anything. You’re terrified. It’s obvious you don’t want to go with them, but you’re too afraid to say it. I don’t care if he’s your uncle or your dad, but I’m not letting anyone boss you like a slave again.” I said, not breaking eye contact with the man.

“Look, I don’t know why you’re here; neither do I care, but Clara won’t be going anywhere with you. We have classes tomorrow, so I’ll appreciate it if you leave now so we’ll have a good night's sleep.”

Lorenzo's eyes roamed up and down my body; I wasn’t sure if he was sizing me up out of annoyance, amusement, astonishment or all three.

Before I could blink, a cold metal was pressed to my forehead, and my stomach dropped. Lorenzo was holding a gun to my head. Ok, so these people weren't ordinary men.

"Lorenzo! Please don't hurt her!" Clara begged, trying to push me away, but I didn't bulge.

"Marco," Lorenzo said, not taking his cold eyes off me, and Marco grabbed Clara.

"If you move, I'll shoot you." He snarled as I tried to reach out for her, and he pressed the nozzle harder to my head. "You shouldn't stick your nose into a family's business."

"Funny you should say that because I consider Clara as my family, so it's only right you find my nose there." I replied, shrugging my shoulder. "Look, I don't care what gang—"

"Gang?" He crinkled his nose like I had insulted him. "Do we look like a bunch of p*ssy, pissy hooligans who parade their powers by tormenting those weaker?"

"Well, you stormed into my house, tried to take my friend and you’re holding a gun to my head when we are obviously weaker than you. I don't want to judge, but you seem to perfectly represent the definition you gave, right?"

"Shut up! He'll kill you!" Clara gasped; tears streamed down her face.

"I was wrong. You're not brave; you're foolish." Lorenzo said, moving the gun to under my jaw and tilting my head up.

He breathe tickled my lips and I bit my inner cheek, snuffing the reaction bubbling in me. God, he was sinfully handsome.

"I hold your life in my hand right now. I can decide if you should live or die. Wise people would watch their words and not spew bullshit, but here you are. Aren't you afraid? You should be afraid."

"I'm terrified, actually. My heart is pounding so hard I can almost not hear my words. And you look like the kind of man that has the heads of his enemies mounted up on his wall as a memento." I confessed, taking a small step closer to him and his lips were a breathe away.

"But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you kidnap my best friend. I swore to protect her with my life, and that's what I'm doing."

"For God's sake, just apologise and go inside! I'll be fine!" Clara yelled at me, struggling to break out of Marco's grasp. "Please, Lorenzo, spare her. I'll go with you; I won't complain. I won't try to run away; please don't kill her."

Lorenzo’s cold and empty eyes studied me and I stared back, my gaze strong and unwavering.

Was I going to die? Yes. Was he going to take Clara away when I did? Yes. So was I foolish? Yes.

But I wasn't going to let him leave without fighting for her. Life was short anyway; why not end it doing something nice?

Lorenzo pulled his gun away from my jaw after a few seconds of agonising stare-down, and I furrowed my brows. Wait? That was it?

"Thank you, Lorenzo." Clara breathed, and her shoulders slacked. "I promise I won't make a fuss ever again. I'll be docile and—"

"No! I'm still not leaving her. If she goes, I go." I insisted and clung to her.

"Gwen! Pl—"

"Is that so?" Lorenzo smirked, and his stone-cold face lit up with amusement and mischief. "With pleasure."

There was a sharp blow to my neck and then, darkness.