147

[REBECCA]
I wished fervently to vanish, to escape the nightmare that had resurfaced. The voice of the Devil was a chilling reminder of past horrors.
Artemy stood erect, his posture unwavering, causing me to sense his deliberate turn. Gradually, I rose from my position, mirroring his movement yet deliberately concealed behind his protective stance.
My vantage point prevented me from sighting Raffaele’s whereabouts. I remained entirely concealed, shielded by the solid presence of Artemy shielding me.
With a deliberate motion, Artemy’s hand drifted to his waistband, the resting place of his firearm.
“Ah, ah. Make no sudden moves or I won’t hesitate to pull the trigger. Believe me, this time I’m serious,” Raffaele cautioned, his voice dripping with menace. “Step away from her.”
Artemy remained rooted, his stance unwavering. “Move away from her, or I won’t hesitate to shoot. What’s the value of playing the hero? Once I’m done with you, I’ll deal with her. So step away from her.”
Artemy’s hand remained fixed on his waistband, his resolute stance unchanged. The sound of Raffaele’s laughter filled the air, its echo ringing in my ears, prompting me to tightly shut my eyes.
Driven by instinct, I stepped out from my concealed spot behind Artemy, positioning myself by his side.
Raffaele’s gaze traveled over me, his repulsive smirk sending shivers down my spine. “There you are, my dear.”
His voice sent a shudder through me, but I maintained my focus on him. Something had changed about him. A beard adorned his face, and his attire appeared disheveled.
His eyes held a reddened hue, fatigue evident, yet also carrying a hint of derangement. The crazed gleam within them pierced through me, leaving me consumed by sheer terror.
Chaos reigned in my mind; my stomach clenched painfully, and my heart ached with intensity.
“If only you hadn’t fled,” he chided. “I would have ensured your survival. But now, you’ve thoroughly infuriated me. I’m no longer feeling magnanimous.”
Panic gripped my throat, and my eyes involuntarily flicked to Artemy. He remained locked in a tense stare-down with Raffaele. How had everything spiraled into this? Mere moments ago, everything had been perfect.
Raffaele took a deliberate step toward us, the gun leveled in my direction. His gaze shifted to Artemy. “Make one move and her brains will paint the ground. You’re aware of how swiftly life can be extinguished.”
Artemy’s hands clenched at his sides. I yearned to crumble to the ground and beg for mercy.
My breathing escalated, chest constricting painfully. Raffaele advanced steadily, closing the gap to within a few strides.
He aimed the gun successively at Artemy and then at me. “Hmmm… I ponder, who should be my first victim?”
Raffaele pivoted the gun towards me. “The little Angel?”
He tilted his head slightly, redirecting the weapon toward Artemy. “Her savior?”
My heart convulsed, anguish coursing through me, and I instinctively rubbed my stomach, my breath labored.
“You’re a coward, Raffaele. Why not confront this like a man?” Artemy’s growl resonated.
Raffaele clucked his tongue, his gun shifting back to me, this time toward my abdomen. “Or perhaps the baby?”
Terror surged through me, a primal scream trapped in my throat. My heart hammered against my ribcage, a desperate attempt to break free. My quivering hands instinctively cradled my swollen pregnant belly, a shield against the impending danger.
Mockery dripped from his words as he taunted, “Oh, look at that, how adorable. The little baby bump it is.”
My eyes widened, the world suddenly accelerating into a blur. Artemy lunged forward, a swift motion followed by the extension of his leg. A gasp escaped me as his foot connected with Raffaele’s hand, the firearm skidding away.
A furious struggle erupted as Artemy tackled Raffaele to the ground. I stood frozen, a silent witness to their grappling forms.
A gnawing fear clenched at my heart; I couldn’t bear to lose Artemy. The grip of terror rendered me motionless, caught in the throes of their violent clash. Bloodlust painted the scene, and uncertainty hung heavy in the air.
My gaze darted wildly, desperate to locate the misplaced gun. Panic surged anew when I finally spotted it by a nearby tree. As I took a tentative step toward it, Raffaele managed to shove Artemy away, his hand clutching yet another firearm.
A surge of dread washed over me. No, not again.
His laughter rang out, a chilling sound that echoed with madness, sending shivers down my spine. Raffaele’s demeanor held a disturbing intensity, as if some newfound power coursed through his veins, amplifying his madness.
Artemy inched closer, each step an embodiment of determination.
Raffaele’s vacant gaze locked onto mine, a cruel smile tugging at his lips. “Did you honestly believe you could escape, Rebecca? You tend to forget one crucial detail: You belong to me.”
In that moment, he seemed akin to a malevolent force. A fleeting thought questioned the depths of human cruelty.
But before contemplation could take root, he shifted his attention, the gun he held now aimed squarely at my midsection. The world seemed to pause, a breath suspended in time.
“Say your goodbyes, my dear,” he hissed, and the world shattered.
Trembling, I let out a pained whimper, my arms instinctively wrapping around my stomach as if shielding a precious secret from the sheer horror before me.
Yet, in the clutches of this nightmare, escape was an illusion. The Devil himself had cornered us, his presence inescapable, undeniable.
In that harrowing moment, realization struck – this was the precipice of my existence. The final chapter unfolding before me, a crescendo of despair.
As the weight of impending doom pressed down, my heart pounded like a desperate plea. The stark click of a trigger being pulled reverberated, a deafening prelude to impending demise. A primal instinct made my eyelids shut tight, bracing for the searing pain that was to follow.
But then, an odd silence lingered. Seconds stretched like eternity, and yet, there was only emptiness where agony should have been.
Slowly, tentatively, my eyes fluttered open, revealing a scene that defied reason. Before me stood Artemy, a barrier of shock and anguish etched onto his face, as if the bullets had found their mark on him instead.
The denial surged within me, a wild scream tearing from my lips. I surged forward, my arms enveloping him urgently, my desperate hands traversing his form in search of wounds that shouldn’t exist.
This couldn’t be real. A nightmare, surely. The torment I felt was otherworldly, a maelstrom of emotions crashing over me. Wave upon wave of anguish threatened to consume me.
My voice broke, a guttural sob escaping as I clung to him. His name, a prayer and a plea, tumbled from my lips like a shattered melody. But he held me just as tightly, his touch both a lifeline and a balm for the turmoil within.
“Artemy,” I choked, my hands roaming his body as if to ensure his reality. “No. Why… why?”
Desperation etched his features as he pulled me closer, hands tracing my form, seeking reassurance in the midst of chaos.
“Where are you hurt?” he implored, his voice a raw rasp. “Please, Rebecca, say something!”
A tempest of grief engulfed me, each sob an agony that resonated through my being. I clung to him, my cries muffled against his chest. “I’m… not hurt,” I gasped between breaths.
But Artemy’s grasp tightened, his own distress palpable. His voice trembled as he shook me, aghast. “No. You got hit. I was too late.”
Sobs wracked me, an unrelenting tempest as I shook my head. Agonizing contractions gripped my stomach, matching the pain in my heart. I cupped his face, needing him to understand. “You’re not hurt.”
Artemy’s eyes flickered with confusion, his gaze searching me as if to confirm my words. And in that instant, a profound realization struck us both. We were unscathed.
With widened eyes, a surge of energy rushed through me, leaving me weak and disoriented. The thud of my own pulse echoed in my ears. What was this?
“Then… who?” I whispered, my voice trembling as Artemy held me, shielding me with his body. Together, we turned, bracing for a revelation that would forever shatter our world.
And as reality unfolded before me, a strangled cry tore from my throat. I crumbled to my knees, the weight of agony too much to bear.
“NO!”
[RAFFAELE]
She held onto a naive belief that escape was possible, but such innocence appeared almost foolish in its nature. Her supposed lessons seemed to have bypassed her comprehension, leaving her with a great deal still to grasp.
Yet, my once endless patience had met its boundary. Every single day she pushed it, with every escape attempt and every utterance of his name. Rebecca’s ownership was incontestable; her understanding of this reality, however, remained deficient.
Even if her desires diverged, her path was not one she could choose. The illusion of choice was but a mirage.
The question lingered: How far must I shatter her before enlightenment dawns?
I was under the impression that her will had been effectively bent to mine. She belonged to me, exclusively. No other man was permitted to lay a finger upon her.
Yet, it was clear that my assessment had been grievously misguided. This misjudgment had arisen from the inception of our connection. At first sight, it was solely Rebecca and myself. However, Artemy materialized, a destructive force upsetting the balance.
Had he not interceded, Rebecca would undoubtedly have remained within my grasp.
Hidden within shadows, I observed. He held her, enveloping her in his arms.
They laughed together, a shared intimacy. My fingers found solace around the grip of a firearm, emanating an almost tangible rage. The culmination approached.
Resolution was at hand. Their conclusion imminent.
Rebecca’s rounded abdomen caught my attention-his progeny, not mine. Each glance was a reminder of my shortcomings. He had touched what should have been mine.
Contemplation bred a faint, malicious smile. The past was inconsequential; the present was malleable. Their world would be dismantled, piece by piece.
Every shred of her existence would yield to me, until surrender was her sole alternative.
My gaze held them captive, frozen in an affectionate kiss. My finger toyed with the trigger. I yearned for their swift demise, but swift was far too kind.
Artemy’s eyes should reflect fear, helplessness, and inexorable loss. He had filched from me, and reciprocation was impending. Vengeance bore a bitter taste.
Firmly gripping the firearm, I emerged from obscurity.
“Such tenderness. Pity I must intrude,” I chuckled.
They pivoted, astonished, Artemy’s expression bordering on farcical.
Yet, my intention was not Artemy. He was an instrument, a means to an end.
The real target was concealed behind him, trembling and vulnerable.
As she came into view, a twisted smile crossed my lips. The moment of reckoning had arrived.
Rebecca seemed oblivious to the impending fate she would share with me. It mattered not if compliance was coerced; history had shown my prowess at getting what I yearned for.
She was no exception.
The firearm leveled at Rebecca, and I met her gaze. Panic and fear danced across her features, like music to my ears.
Drag her to hell? So be it.
In the end, she would be mine