Chapter 7 : Do You Belong To Anyone

Mafia's Nemesis****

“She couldn't have gone far,” the leader added, making a call for reinforcements.

Fear surged through her veins like ice, as the beam of the torch flashed on her from a distance.

Without hesitation, she shot up, her legs shaking, adrenaline blasting through her whole being.

“Squad!, She's along that alley”, Nevena heard the deep echo from a distance.

She staggered forward, slipping into the shadows, heart pounding like a war drum.

Step by step, she crept along the alley, pressing against the cold brick wall.

But then, the footsteps thundered behind her, Closer.

One pry from her hiding spot, she noticed that the goons surrounded that alley in a synchronized formation.

Their crimson eyes sharp as that of an eagle. Her mind spiraled in desperation and chaos.

“Damn it, I could swear I saw her run this way.” One of the goons cussed, flashing his torch randomly.

One of his random flashes caught her shadow and he signalled the others.

“¡Está allá, vengan!, {She’s over there, come on!}”, the goon shouted upon his fellows.

Nevena blinked rapidly as their menacing footsteps closed in, crunching against the gravel.

Her eyes darted frantically for escape, the path before her twisted and turned, a labyrinth of uncertainty where every choice felt like a gamble with her life.

Without a second thought, her bare feet tore against the sharp gravel, but the pain barely registered—adrenaline coursed through her veins, louder than reason, sharper than fear.

“¡Detente ahí, o disparo! {Stop right there, or I'll shoot!}”, One of the goons proclaimed.

Nevena didn’t understand him, nor did she dare look back. One thought screamed louder than her fear— !!Run. Don’t stop. Just run!!

Meanwhile outside the Sparkling Ciders Casino which was a block away, a shiny car pulled up.

The Chauffeur emerged from the driver's seat, and open the door with a graceful motion,

Nevena coincidentally turned the next block and she caught sight of a figure emerging out of the car in a well tailored suit.

He adjusted his attire and waited while the chauffeur steered the car to the parking space.

Though she didn’t see his face, because his back was turned to her as he adjusted his coat. Her instincts screamed at her that he was her ‘Спасител’... her saviour.

Her body acting upon that instinct, sprinted toward him—her last hope.

Then, as if sensing her presence, the man turned slightly—just enough for her to catch a glimpse of his face.

For a fleeting moment, Nevena thought luck was finally on her side. Unbeknownst to her that the man had turned not to her, but to the chilling metallic click of a cocked gun.

“¡Agáchate! {Dunk!}”, Antonio growled in his local dialect at the woman, running towards him. But she kept coming towards him.

Nevena, who couldn't understand Spanish, thought that he was asking her to run faster.

“Get down fo....ol”, Antonio roared, pointing behind her.

Nevena turned just in time to see the goon’s finger squeeze the trigger—a bullet slicing through the air, aimed straight at her.

She braced for pain—but none came. Instead, a veil of darkness clouded her vision, leaving her disoriented.

The ground lurched beneath her, her foot catching on uneven pavement. She stumbled.

Instinctively, her fingers grasped the first thing within reach—warm fabric stretched over sturdy muscle.

The impact sent them both crashing to the ground.

Her fragile frame landed against his, the scent of rich cologne, leather, and spice invading her nostril.

The next thing she knew, they were tumbling together—only that his strong arms encircled her protectively.

With a firm, controlled slide of his soles against the pavement, he steadied them.

She blinked up as they came to a stop, her dazed gaze locking onto his piercing eyes.

Recognition barely had time to register before her trembling fingers curled into his sleeve, smearing it with grease.

“Please… help me, call the cops.” she whispered desperately, clinging to him as if letting go meant death itself.

“Do you want to get us killed?” the leader of the goons snapped at his man who had just fired the gun.

“I warned her, but she was being stubborn,” the man mumbled, lowering the weapon.

The leader sneered. “Vincenzo wants her alive, so be mindful.”

If he hadn’t intervened in time, lifting the gun to the air instead, this might have turned into a tragedy.

Meanwhile, Antonio scowled, glancing down at the foreign woman sprawled beneath him

His mind quickly pieced together fragments of familiarity.

“You,” he croaked, his expression turning cold. “I've seen you before.”

Nevena stiffened as she took in his facials again.

“Arizona!” they both chorused at the same time.

Antonio’s fingers curled slightly around her wrist.

“You are that lady, aren't you?” his voice was low, almost accusatory.

Nevena's lips parted, but nothing came out because Vincenzo’s men just stepped out of the darkness, their intent clear as they approached them.

“Are you stalking me?” Antonio's husky voice drew her back to him.

Her wide, desperate eyes darted up to his,

“No!” she objected, shaking her head, but the flicker in her eyes made Antonio suspicious.

He stared down at her, unblinkingly, his dark eyes drilling into hers like he was peeling back her soul layer by layer.

“Ella lleva nuestra marca, y hemos venido a llevarla a casa. {She bears our mark, and we have come to take her home }”, the gang leader mumbled to Antonio's hearing, immediately they got close

Without a single word, Antonio straightened to his full height, his hands sliding into his pockets.

Vincenzo’s men who thought that Antonio wouldn't go down without a fight were surprised at how he just handed her to them.

Nevena gasped as rough hands seized her, dragging her back into the dark. She twisted against their hold, struggling wildly and looking at Antonio.

Her voice cracked in a desperate, frantic plea, “Don't let them take me, I'm just a tourist!”

Antonio didn't utter a single word, he simply stared, waiting to know how long she would keep up with her acting.

Nevena didn't relent, even though her feet scraped against the rough pavement, her cries refused to be silenced.

Only that this time she wasn’t speaking English again.

“Моля те, спаси ме! Не искам да умирам! {Please, save me! I don’t want to die!}”.

Antonio didn't understand a word. But he understood the look in her eyes. The raw, unfiltered sorrow.

“How can you just stand and watch a woman being abducted. I can swear that your mother did a terrible job at raising you”, she cussed, her voice going dry.

A sharp scoff escaped Antonio's lips. “Damn it!”, he cursed his fate.

Nevena just struck the rare chord of emotion in his heart by mentioning his Mother.

Antonio straightened, his posture casual—but the glint in his eyes was anything but readable.

In a blur, he caught up with them and grabbed Nevena’s wrist, yanking her away from them.

The force of it sent her spinning, and she stumbled right into his chest.

With his daring eyes scanning her like a prey caught in a trap, his hand worked its way to her back and ripped her blouse.

The fabric tore with a sharp sound, slipping down her shoulder, exposing her bare skin under the dim glow of a nearby streetlamp.

Nevena sucked in a breath, hands flying to her chest in shock as she shrank against Antonio.

But Antonio wasn’t done. His fingers brushed against her hair, unclipping them.

The marigold strands tumble free, falling all over her shoulder.

He combed his fingers through it, lifting sections and scrutinizing her scalp for a microphone, a hidden wire or a symbol.

Nevena’s face burned with mortification, she pulled away slightly, her arms pressing protectively over her almost-exposed breasts.

In just an instant, the faintest exhale escaped Antonio's lips, like he passed a verdict. There was no insignia that screamed private investigator on her body.

“Do you belong to anyone?” He asked gruffly.

Nevena swallowed hard, her eyes wide, her lips parted as if she had no idea how to answer.

Then, in a whisper, “No...I only arrived yesterday's night.”

“Hermanos {Brothers}, She’s a tourist,” Antonio's deep voice stretched to the goons.

“No le demos mala fama a mi ciudad. { Let's not give my City a bad name}”

“Butt off Baboso {Dimwit.}”, the leader of the goons snorted at Antonio. “Who says you rule Enchanted Hills ?”. He jerked his chin, signaling his men to grab Nevena.

“She’s under my protection.” Antonio persisted in a calm, conversational tone , covering Nevena's bare back with his jacket.

“I'm warning you for the last time. ¡No te metas, pendejo! {Don't get involved, dumbass!},” the leader gritted. “Vincenzo already marked her. You wouldn't want to mess with him.”

“Then you should’ve brought more men.” Grinch shot back at the man, his voice calm but edged with steel as he stepped forward.

“Who the heck is this now?”, The leader sneered, shifting his weight, his crew watching with expectant grins.

“You don’t need to know.” Grinch cracked his knuckles. “You had your time infiltrating our territory, but a quick reminder—Enchanted Hills will never be yours.”

“¡Ya tuve suficiente de esta farsa! { I have had enough of this charade}” The lead goon curled his fist and lunged attack on Grinch

Without warning, Antonio intercepted the attack. “I guess playing Mr. Nice isn't really my thing”. His husky voice resonated.

The gang leader barely had time to smirk before Antonio wrenched his arm back—hard.

A sickening crack split the air as his wrist snapped like a twig. He screamed, dropping to his knees.

The burst of violence from such a quiet entity 'Antonio' made everyone apart from Grinch flinch, the unpredictability amplifying the fear.

“That Motherfucker.” Antonio continued, fury seeping into his voice. “So he’s gotten bold enough to cross into my territory…..to pimp chi—?”

“Don't spare him”, the gang leader instructed from the ground.

In a blink of an eye, the fight erupted fast and brutal

Nevena shrank back, heart hammering while her eyes darted between the bodies sprawled at Antonio's feet.

Terror clung to them like a second skin, and with a stamp of Antonio's sole on the ground, they scrambled away.

With his eyes downcast, Antonio crouched, gripping the gang leader’s shirt, his fingers digging into the fabric.

He leaned in, his voice insouciantly calm. "If you make it home alive," he murmured, eyes gleaming with menace,

“Dile a Vincenzo que Knuckles va por él.{Tell Vincenzo that Knuckles is coming for him}.”

The man gasped for breath, but Blade didn’t wait for a response. His fist slammed into his face—once, twice—until the repeated blows opened a wound, sending crimson gushing down the man's face.

Nevena let out a strangled gasp, as she glimpsed the mess of broken bones and torn skin.

“Llévatela de aquí. {Take her away from here}”. Antonio ordered in a hoarse tone.

“Ma'am, this way”. Grinch beckoned on Nevena, leading the way. Nevena trails behind him without hesitation.

Antonio ‘Blade knuckles’ finally let go, shaking off the blood on his hand.

The gang leader tried to crawl away, but his limbs betrayed him and he collapsed on the pavement.

His heartbeat slowed, while black blood dripped from his nostrils. In seconds, his eyes fluttered shut.

Blade knuckles exhaled sharply, his gaze lifting toward the night sky. His anticipated night of fun has just been ruined.

Vincenzo had struck again. Now, it was his turn to retaliate.