Forced marriage

Luca peered through the scope, observing the bustling plaza filled with people oblivious to the lurking danger, engrossed in their phones as life slipped past them. Then he spotted her; she bought a bouquet from the elderly woman with the bucket. A gust of wind blew her hair across her face. She adjusted it just as the target appeared behind her. Luca aimed carefully. With a single pull of the trigger, the man collapsed to the ground. Sirens approached as he departed.  Their eyes met briefly before she turned back to the commotion. Luca retrieved his burner phone and quickly sent a text: Done. Bella remained frozen in place until the ambulance eventually drove off with the man. Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

"Hello, Dad?"

"Come home immediately. We need to discuss something."

Bella pushed open the heavy oak doors of the family estate, greeted by the familiar chill that lingered in the marble foyer regardless of season. Sunlight struggled through the heavy drapes, barely illuminating the space her mother once filled with laughter. These days, Bella preferred the fluorescent lights of the hospital, the constant motion, the twenty-hour shifts that left no time for thinking. Her white coat was armor against this place, against questions about the family business, the legitimate front her father maintained while collecting debts and breaking kneecaps. Even Greg had disappeared into the shadows of their father's empire, making an appearance only for tense family dinners where no one mentioned the blood money that paid for the wine.

Her father was standing by the window when she entered, his back towards her. "Bella, you're quitting your job. Today."

She responded with a sharp, incredulous laugh. "What? Why?"

"Because I said so," he snapped, turning to face her, his voice rising in intensity. "That's why."

Greg, her brother, entered the room, his eyes fixed on their father. "They’re here."

The maid ushered in three men clad in dark suits. Benjamin, her father, moved forward, shaking hands with practiced ease. They sat down, and two more men came in, armed.

"Is this really necessary?" Benjamin inquired, his tone clipped.

The lead man gave him a cold stare. "Your choice. You owe me. A lot. What did you do with the money?"

Benjamin remained silent. "What do you want?"

"Blood," the man told him, handing a photo to the man behind him. He glanced at it, then locked eyes with Bella. Leaning in, he whispered something to the leader.

Benjamin stood abruptly. "Please. Not my son."

Bella froze. "His son? What about me?" she thought.

The man smiled. "The man behind me handles our business if you get my drift. He’s my brother, Lucas. He looked at Bella. But my brother’s feeling generous, he wants to marry her."

"Done," Benjamin replied quickly, relief flashing across his face. "Glad we settled this."

A gunshot rang out. Benjamin fell. The man in the suit had shot him, his gaze cold.

"Now we’re done," walking over to Bella. "The wedding's in a week. And this," he gestured around, "is my brother’s place."

Bella’s chest tightened, her vision blurring as tears streamed down her face. She collapsed to the floor.

She blinked awake, glancing around. Her room. Taking a deep breath, she got up and headed to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face. Maybe it was just a nightmare. She walked downstairs, everything eerily normal, no body, no blood, like nothing had happened. Then she turned and nearly collided with him.

"Feeling better?" looked at her like he was studying her. I’m Lucas…

"Better? You killed my dad!" she spat, her voice trembling.

"Technically, it wasn’t me," "But yeah, my brother handled it."

She glared at him. "Even if I have to marry you, I…"

"Relax! I saved your life. He reached out, brushing her cheek gently. She slapped him hard.

"Damn, for someone so small, you pack a punch," grinning as he rubbed his jaw.

"Stay away from me," she hissed. "Where’s my brother?"

"Oh, Greg? He’s one of us now," "Works with my brother. Part of the family."

Bella shot him a look, taking in the stubble on his jaw, his black hair tied back, and the glimpse of a tattoo peeking from his half-buttoned shirt.

Lucas grabbed his jacket. “Gotta run. He’ll stay, jerking his thumb toward a hulking man in the corner. “Keeps an eye on you.”

“Where’s my dad?” Bella demanded.

“On ice till the wedding. Which is in two days, not a week,” walking away.

Bella sank into the chair where her dad had sat just hours ago. Grief? No. Anger? Hell yes. He’d sold her off like some bargaining chip to settle his debts. She grabbed her purse and jacket, heading for the door, only to be blocked by a wall of muscle.

“Where you are going?” the bodyguard asked, arms crossed.

“Work. I’ve got a shift. Move,” glaring up at him.

He pulled out a phone, muttered something into it, then hung up. “Not today. Call in sick. Boss’s orders.”

Bella let out a frustrating scream, stormed into the kitchen, and put the kettle on. As soon as it boiled, she slipped out the back entrance, smirking as she peeled out in her car, watching the guard scramble after her in the rearview. She parked in the hospital garage, clocked in, and lost herself in the chaos of her shift.

Around 2 a.m., things finally slowed down. “One more patient,” the nurse said, nodding toward a room.

Bella walked in and froze. Lucas was sitting there, calm as ever.

“How am I supposed to protect you if you keep running?”

He grabbed her arm, but she fought back, twisting in his grip. He spun her around, his arms locking her in place. “You can’t outrun me, his breath sending a chill down her spine.

"Get your hands off me, or I’ll scream loud enough to bring the whole hospital running,"

"What are you going to say? That my husband decided to drop by for a visit?

Newsflash, you’re not my husband yet."

He laughed nervously, "Look, just go home, alright? You don’t need to be here."

"This is my home," "There’s nothing in that godforsaken mansion for me anymore."