Chapter 3 Discovered

The moment Zomet's hideout was breached, Marcus Katsuragi, a towering brute with a scar that ran down the side of his face, shoved his way inside. He lunged at Zomet, grabbing her by the collar, his grip as firm as iron. Lena Matsumoto followed, her long black hair falling past the steely gaze of her almond-shaped eyes.

"Where is it?" Marcus demanded, his thick, muscular arm tensing as he held Zomet in a chokehold. Her breath quickened, panic gripping her like a vice.

Lena scanned the room with cold, piercing eyes, an odd blend of elegance and lethality in her sleek, black leather attire.

"It has to be here somewhere," she said, her voice like the crack of a whip. "She's not going anywhere until we find it."

Zomet's eyes widened in fear, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew exactly what they were talking about-the gold-inlaid pistol she'd taken from her parents' hideout six months ago before it was raided last week for the same reason by the mafia. She'd kept it hidden ever since.

"What are you talking about?" she said, feigning ignorance, her voice trembling.

As Zomet spoke, the other mafia members barged into the hideout, searching the place from top to bottom. "Find it!" Marcus barked, his voice echoing through the room. But, despite their efforts, they came up empty-handed.

"Enough!" Lena said, her gaze piercing Zomet like a knife. "The boss is waiting. Let's go."

Lena and Marcus grabbed Zomet's arms and led her outside, the air heavy with the stench of burning rubber from their idling vehicles.

A sleek black sedan sat at the curb, its windows tinted so dark they were impenetrable. Marcus and Lena threw Zomet into the back seat, and in the driver's seat sat a man so still he could have been carved from stone.

He turned his head ever so slightly, piercing Zomet with eyes as cold and black as obsidian.

Victor's lips twisted into a cold smile, revealing a hint of pearly white teeth.

"My dear Zomet," he said, his voice like honeyed poison, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Victor, the one your parents ran from."

Zomet's face remained impassive. "I don't know what they were talking about and I don't know you." she said in fear.

If you give it to me now," Victor continued, his voice low and dangerous, "I might be willing to let this slide. You can go back to your little life. But if you don't..."

He leaned back, his gaze darkening. "Well, let's just say you don't want to know what happens then."

Zomet's heart pounded, the pistol burning like a branding iron in her mind. But she couldn't give it up. Not now, not ever.

"I don't have it," Zomet said, her voice steady despite the fear curling in her stomach. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Victor's smile turned into a grimace. "Liar."

Lena and Marcus exchanged glances.

Victor's eyes narrowed. "You leave me with no choice. Marcus, take her to the warehouse."

"No!" Zomet cried, struggling against Marcus' iron grip.

Victor's lips curled into a smirk, oozing confidence like oil from a crushed seed. "Thinking the police could stop us?" he scoffed. "You were always a naive one, Zomet. We're not some two-bit street gang. You can't hide from us, and you certainly can't outrun us." He leaned back, his face a mask of amusement. "Now, Marcus, take her to the warehouse."

"Please just let me go."Zomet pleaded.

As she was being dragged out by Marcus, Victor ordered him to wait.

Victor leaned in closer, his eyes shining with a menacing light. "You have 24 hours to bring me the pistol, or you'll end up like your parents."

Zomet's blood ran cold at the mention of her parents. With a dismissive wave, Victor signaled to Marcus and Lena.

"Take her home," he said, the smirk still playing at the corners of his mouth. "I'll be in touch."

Marcus hauled Zomet out of the car and they returned her to Cypress Terrace, leaving her shaking in the darkness, the smell of exhaust and the taste of fear lingering in her mouth.

Her time was running out. She had to find a way to stop Victor, before it was too late.

Zomet slumped into the darkness of Cypress Terrace, desperation welling within her like a bursting dam. She had no plan, no allies, and no idea how to stop Victor and his mafia.

Suddenly, she heard a knock at the door, it was Fiona. She got Zomet's emergency message when Marcus stormed in.

Fiona burst through the door, panting, her face a mask of worry.

"Zomet, are you okay?" she asked, rushing to her friend's side. "I got your message and came as soon as I could."

Zomet looked at her friend, eyes brimming with tears.

"Fiona, I'm in so much trouble. They're after me."

Fiona pulled Zomet into a hug, trying to offer some comfort in the face of such danger.

"We'll figure something out," she said, her voice trembling with fear and determination. "We can go to the police. You reported them before, right?"

Zomet shook her head, pulling away from Fiona's embrace. "It won't do any good," she said, her voice hollow.

"They're everywhere, and they won't stop until they find the pistol."

Fiona's eyes widened. "Pistol? What pistol?"

Zomet hesitated, then finally admitted,

"My parents had a pistol. They took it from the mafia when they left. Victor wants it back, or he'll..." She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

Fiona's face paled, the weight of Zomet's words hitting her like a sledgehammer. "So what do we do?"

Zomet's shoulders slumped. "I don't know. I've never felt so alone."

Fiona put a hand on her friend's shoulder, her eyes full of resolve.

"You're not alone. I'm here, and we'll find a way out of this together."

Zomet looked at Fiona, a flicker of hope igniting in her heart. Maybe, just maybe, together they stood a chance.

Zomet thought of how she just got better in her math class and now just as she was picking up again, these hellhound of a mafia gang were after her.

Fiona grasped Zomet's hand, urgency in her eyes.

"I know what we can do. There's this guy my dad knows, sells ammo for guns. I've been ignoring his son's advances, but he could help us." Fiona paused for breath, excitement building in her voice. "We can ask him to borrow a pistol-you just need to describe the one you need-and we'll find a gilder to polish it."

Zomet's mind reeled.

"It sounds risky," Zomet said, her voice low and uncertain. "And even if we can fool them, what about the details? The markings, the etchings?"

Fiona's gaze was unwavering. "We'll find a way to copy them. We have to try, Zomet. It's our only chance."

Zomet nodded, her heart pounding with fear and desperation. "Okay. Let's do it."