ELEANOR
The pounding in my chest grew a lot louder as I heard a hard voice command us from outside. “Whoever is in there should get out of the car slowly and with both their hands where I can see them.”
The tone left no room for doubt that whoever these men were, they were dead serious and fully prepared to make good on any threat. I stole a glance at Enzo, praying he’d understand that this was the time to just do whatever they asked-hopefully they’d take whatever they wanted sooner and let us be.
“Enzo,” I whispered, voice shaking. “Please… don’t do anything stupid. Put the gun down. Let’s just… let’s just go along with it, okay?” I didn’t even know what I was saying-just that I was scared out of my mind, terrified that any wrong move could end in disaster.
His eyes were fixed on me, hard and unmoving. “Eleanor, you don’t understand,” he murmured, tightening his grip on the gun, as if holding onto it would somehow fix this. “Let me handle it.”
“No,” I said, pleading. “You’re not handling anything. They’re out there with who-knows-how-many guns, and you’re here with just one. Please… just do as they say. It’s just three of us in here, we’re outnumbered Enzo. Please.” I was begging now, nodding toward him, practically holding my breath, hoping he’d see reason.
For a moment, Enzo hesitated, his face flickering between resolve and hesitation. So I kept nodding slowly, trying to silently push him toward the decision that would keep us alive.
Finally, he drew a shaky breath and slowly tucked the gun back into his clothes with his eyes fixed on mine, reluctant but finally willing to listen.
“Fine,” he muttered, almost grudgingly. “We’ll do it your way.”
I exhaled, relief flooding me, but the dread was still there.
Slowly, I reached for the door handle, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me. This felt like some nightmare, only I couldn’t wake up. Enzo and I exchanged one last look, and I knew he was trying to give me some kind of reassurance, but even he couldn’t hide the tension in his eyes.
I opened the door and slowly stepped out, raising my hands just as they’d ordered, heart hammering so loud I thought it’d drown out every other sound. Enzo and the driver followed, hands up and moving cautiously.
The moment we were out, I glanced around and felt my stomach drop. There had to be at least ten men, all armed with their guns pointed directly at us.
Each of them looked ready to pull the trigger at the slightest wrong move.
I swallowed hard, feeling my legs shake under me. This was bad. Really bad.
Enzo stepped up beside me, his eyes scanning them as well, as if trying to read the situation.
He moved his hand subtly toward me, as if silently telling me to stay close. But there was nothing we could really do but stand there and hope this wasn’t the end.
The sudden screech of tires caught my attention as we watched another car pull up, a sleek one distinctly different from the rugged vans that surrounded us. My stomach twisted as I saw a man in a dark suit step out, walking over to open the back door. After a few seconds, another man stepped down from the car-dressed in a way that implied that he was in charge-exuding a smugness I felt even from where I stood. He glanced around the empty, desolate road as if confirming that there’d be no help here for us. No one was coming.
“Enzo Luca,” he said with a mocking laugh, a cold smirk flashing across his face as he said Enzo’s name like he was saying it for the last time. His voice cut through the tension, almost casual.
“Stephan.” Enzo replied to my surprise.
It now seemed to me that the people in Armando’s world were somehow all linked to the each other.
They all knew each other in some twisted way and I was just a random spectator that would occasionally get affected by whatever was going on between them.
Stephan-as Enzo had called him-had his smile fade quickly as he turned to his men with a simple nod. “Frisk him.”
Two of the men immediately came over to Enzo-still armed, roughly patting him down, and I could tell by their demeanor that they both knew what they were doing.
The gun Enzo had reluctantly put away was quickly tossed to the ground and Stephan-the man in charge-stepped forward, gave it a lazy look before stepping on it-grinding it under his shoe, and then kicking it aside like it was nothing.
“Guess you’ll miss your little toy Luca,” he sneered, smirking again.
Enzo didn’t respond. He just stood there with his jaw clenched tight, refusing to show even an ounce of fear-especially because he didn’t seem like he was. But I could feel the hostility simmering between them, thick enough to choke on.
The man, Stephan, glanced in my direction with a smirk. “Now,” he said, looking back at Enzo, “you and your side piece here should both get into the car.”
“No.” Enzo’s voice came out firm and final, unyielding. He looked him dead in the eye. “I’m not going anywhere with you, and she isn’t either.”
Stephan chuckled, somewhat amused. “Oh, really?” He stepped closer, sizing Enzo up like he was debating just how much force he’d need. Then, without any warning, he threw a punch into Enzo’s gut, sharp and fast. Enzo staggered, folding over for a split second, but to my surprise, he straightened almost immediately, his eyes glaring back, unfazed.
That seemed to surprise the Stephan guy. He laughed-a dangerous sound-as though he appreciated Enzo’s defiance.
“You think you’re tough, huh?” He said, his tone low and mocking. With that, he stepped in and punched Enzo straight in the face, the impact hard enough to send him reeling against the car. I gasped, but Enzo held his ground, bracing himself.
Stephan didn’t stop there though. He was relentless, landing hit after hit, his fists crashing down on Enzo’s face and body with each blow seemingly harder than the last. My heart raced watching as Enzo took each punch, blood starting to trickle from his lip, his nose even, but he didn’t back down.
Then, in a flash of movement, Enzo’s hand shot out, grabbing his opponent’s arm. Before I could even register what was happening, he twisted, flipped Stephan over-catching him off guard-and locked him in a tight hold, using him as a shield against the rest of the men-who then proceeded to attack.
“Stay back!” Enzo yelled, his voice strained but full of fury. He looked each one of them in the eye, daring them to try anything. “Stay the fuck back. If it comes to it, I’m ready to die right here… but I’ll definitely take this bastard with me.”
The men froze, each of them exchanging looks as if unsure of what to do. Stephan struggled in Enzo’s grip-grunting and swearing-but Enzo held him firm, his eyes blazing with determination.
For a moment, it seemed like Enzo had control. But then, with a flick of his wrist, Stephan managed to pull a small knife from his jacket pocket and before Enzo could react, he got stabbed in the thigh-once, twice, three times. The blade went in deep, and Enzo’s grip on him faltered, his face twisting in pain.
Stephan had wrenched himself free-staggering back-and his men didn’t waste another second. Gunshots rang out-loud and sharp-tearing through the air as they opened fire on Enzo.
I watched in horror as he staggered, his body jerking with each shot and the force of it too much to bear.
For a second, he looked down at himself, blood staining his clothes and his face pale like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening. And then, Enzo slowly dropped to the ground, collapsing in a heap.
My whole body went numb.
I couldn’t believe it. This couldn’t be real. Enzo… he was dying right in front of me. I fell to my knees beside him, my hands shaking as I pressed them to his wounds-hoping to somehow stop the blood that was pouring out.
“Enzo,” I whispered, desperation thick in my voice. “Stay with me. Please.”
Although I could already feel the life slipping out of him-his body stiffening, his eyes clouding over and his breathing fading into silence-I couldn’t give up just yet.
“Enzo, please!” I shook him, but his eyes had gone dull and his face blank. I knew he was gone.
Enzo Luca was dead, killed right in front of my eyes.
Fear gripped me more intense than ever. What had I gotten into? What kind of danger was I really in with Armando and his world of enemies? And what did he mean when he said things were about to get messy?
I had now witnessed three deaths by bullets all in the same night. Armando thought he sent me away for my safety, but yet here I was, surrounded by strange men staring at Enzo’s cold blood stained on my hands.
“Get up,” Stephan ordered, his voice sharp and merciless. “Get in the car, except you want to die as well. I don’t like repeating myself.”
I stood slowly, swallowing back the tears threatening to spill over. There was no point in resisting. As I moved toward the car, I felt his eyes on me, watching my every step, his smirk mocking my pain. I climbed into the back seat, feeling a wave of dread as he got in beside me, his large frame taking up most of the seat. Another man, equally intimidating, then took the front passenger seat.
“Where… where are you taking me?” My voice was barely a whisper.
He glanced over at me, his smile cold and calculated. “Someplace quiet, sweetheart. A place where you and I can have a little… chat.”
My heart sank as I looked out the window, the empty road stretching out into the dark, desolate distance. There was no escape, no one to call for help. All I could do was wonder who these men were, how they’d found us, and what they wanted with me now that Enzo was gone.
I felt trapped, helpless, and alone in a world I didn’t understand.