Chapter 3 Caught up

Celia trembled violently, every nerve in her body screaming with fear. But what clawed at her chest more than the terror was the sheer unfairness of it all.

She was going to die for something she didn't even understand. She felt frustrated.

She had spent her whole life struggling, scraping by, working her fingers to the bone just to survive. She had never been reckless. Never invited trouble.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the reality of the cold metal pressed against her temple. But it didn't help. The rough grip of the chair beneath her, the tight ropes biting into her wrists, the acrid stench of sweat and gunpowder, everything was a reminder that this wasn't a nightmare. It was real. And soon, she wouldn't be. Her thoughts drifted to Nico.

Would he even notice she was gone? No, not

that night. He wasn't home.

He had gone to his friend's place for a gaming night, probably laughing, shouting at the screen, and stuffing his face with junk food. Completely unaware that his sister was tied up in some filthy warehouse, seconds away from death.

By the time he came home and realized she was missing, it would be too late.

She clenched her jaw, trying to push back the burning in her chest. She couldn't think about that now.

"You ready to die, sweetheart?" the man holding the gun sneered.

His grip on the weapon tightened, his finger resting against the trigger.

Celia swallowed hard. Her voice was hoarse when she rasped out, "Just do it."

The man smirked. "Gladly."

Just then...

The door exploded open with a shower of splinters. The impact was so violent that it sent a metallic echo reverberating through the walls.

The air shifted. A presence filled the room, dark and suffocating, like a storm rolling in.

Rafael.

He walked in slow, deliberate strides, the dim overhead lights casting sharp shadows over his face. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were pure death.

For a split second, no one moved.

Then....

"Kill him!" their leader shouted.

Gunfire erupted. Rafael didn't flinch.

He moved like a shadow, dodging the first bullet with a slight shift of his body. His hands were a blur as he pulled out both guns.

BANG. BANG.

Two men dropped instantly.

A third man fired at him, but Rafael ducked, rolling across the ground before twisting up,

BANG.

A shot straight to the chest.

The man hit the floor with a gurgled gasp.

Celia's breath hitched. She had never seen anything like that before.

Rafael wasn't just fighting.

He was hunting. Every move was calculated. Every shot was lethal.

Two more men lunged at him from opposite directions.

Celia barely saw Rafael move..

BANG. BANG.

Both collapsed mid-charge, blood pooling beneath them.

She could hardly process it. Less than twenty seconds, That's all it took for him to take them all down.

The room was silent again.

The only ones left were Rafael, Celia, and the leader still holding her hostage.

The man's grip on her tightened, his entire body rigid. His breathing had turned shaky.

Celia realized something then.

He was scared of Rafael.

The mafia leader's lips curled into a snarl. "You love to rebel," he spat. "But you should know by now, you're no match for me."

Rafael exhaled, slow and measured, like he was bored. He lifted his gun and pressed a slow, mocking kiss to the barrel, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

The mafia leader took a step forward, voice tight with frustration. "You know why this happened."

Rafael cocked his head. "Do I?"

"You betrayed me!" The man snapped. "You were my second-in-command! Then you disappeared, and suddenly, you outrank me. Your business is bigger than mine. Your men poach my clients...

Rafael let out a low, mocking chuckle. "Maybe if you weren't such a pathetic excuse for a leader, I would have stayed."

The man's jaw ticked, his fingers tightening around his gun. "You are still under me," he growled. "That's why I will kill her first. Then I will finish you, cherish your last moments."

Rafael arched a brow, his smirk unfaltering. " Are you really making this about business?" He clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. "See, that's your problem, you're too damn small-minded. Always chasing scraps instead of owning the table."

The leader's nostrils flared. "You think you are untouchable?"

"I don't think," Rafael said smoothly. "I know."

The man took a step closer, eyes dark with fury. "You built your empire off my back. You think I

will just let that slide?"

Rafael sighed. "You are boring me."

The leader's hand twitched on his gun. "You should be worried."

Rafael scoffed, tilting his head. "Worried? About you?" He gestured lazily at the bodies of the men he had just taken down. "You are alone,"

"You should be worried that I really want to kill her."

Celia's stomach dropped. This was it.

Rafael's smirk didn't waver.

"Go ahead," he murmured. "Kill her."

Celia's breath hitched. Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out everything else.

For a moment, she thought she misheard him.

Her lungs seized. Her already trembling fingers turned ice cold.

She knew she wasn't important to Rafael, hell, she wasn't even supposed to be part of his world. But to so casually throw her life away like that? To invite her death as if she were nothing more than an inconvenience?

A sharp, sinking feeling twisted in her gut. Was that really how it ended?

She stared at Rafael, searching for something, anything, in his expression like a hint of remorse, a flicker of hesitation.

But there was nothing, only almness and indifference.

The leader hesitated, his grip on her tightening, his fingers digging painfully into her arms. The moment stretched, suffocating.

"You are bluffing," he sneered.

Rafael tilted his head, his smirk stretching just a little wider.

"Am I?"

Celia couldn't breathe.

Her chest ached with the force of her own racing heartbeat.

Then, his hand moved.

Not toward her captor.

Not to take the shot that could save her.

Instead, he lifted his gun.

And pointed it right at her.

Her throat went dry.

And then he pulled the trigger.