Abducted By the Mafia Brothers

"For God's sake! Leave me alone!" screamed Zarina as she was involuntarily dragged out of her room.

Tears rolled down her swollen, red eyes as she struggled against the unknown. The fierce hour of midnight saw her being pulled out of 'Sapphire Aurora', a lavish and luxurious hotel in Venice, by a tall male captor with broad shoulders and a husky build.

Her free hand struggled to free the other, which was firmly grasped in a firm grasp, unwilling to let go.

The hotel wasn't exceptionally crowded that night, but there were a few vacationers checking in and out. The workers remained still and looked around with empty looks, but no one had the courage to raise a finger to help the unfortunate girl. The survival instinct clamped their lips and shut off their conscience, as if everything happening in front of them wasn't there.

"Please! Let go of me." her voice quivered, body trembling with fear. "Somebody, Please!...Please!!... HELP ME!" she cried out for help, looking around at the people, silently watching and ignoring her plight at the same time.

As the man dragged her away, her dress fluttered behind her. Her hair flew frantically given that she never had the opportunity to tie it up before this brutish man barged into her room and yanked her out. Her sharp nails bit into his flesh, but it did nothing to slow him down.

Vector only kept walking, forcing the girl along with him and discarding all of her attempts to flee. His tanned face remained cold, focused, and ready for a kill if he had to.

Exiting the hotel, Vector slightly slowed down his pace.

The cold wind slapped Zarina's exposed skin, sending shivers down her spine. Her face drained out of colour, however, when she saw three long black cars parked neatly and waiting on the porch, outside the hotel. Four men wearing black suits and glares were looking in her direction with stoic and rigid faces, emotionless and expressionless, but everyone had a cold, calculating look in their eyes. For some odd reason, she knew they were waiting for her, to deliver her like a piece of lost property.

A sudden spike in adrenaline surged through her veins, and she panicked, knowing what was coming next. Her fight-or-flight hormones seemed to kick in and she started pulling herself backwards, planting her feet on the ground firmly and tugging at her arms. It was a now-or-never situation for her, and she was ready to risk everything.

"No no no no no no no...Please! please! Please! Let me go. Please!" she cried out with huge sobs and gasps erupting from her lips while scratching at Vector's hand. His grip, however, was firm as stone.

Her vulnerable cries melted the heart in the distance. A stranger, in his early forties, was standing on the porch, waiting for his car. When he heard the shouts and cries of the young lady, his brows furrowed and his instincts told him to make it his duty to try and save her. She was crying, screaming, and begging the man, clutching her hand with an iron grip and it was obvious she was being held against her wish.

Seeing the girl in such a situation, sudden anger boiled in the stranger and he couldn't stop his steps from advancing toward them. All fear was crushed by his determination to stop this disgusting man.

"Hey, you!" the stranger called, "Leave the girl right now, and get outta here!" he demanded, pointing at Zarina and looking at Vector. Zarina shot him a grateful glance, yet her face was still twisted with sorrow. She hoped all this was just a misunderstanding, and the aged man would help her out of this mess.

But it didn't seem like that at all. In fact, as she watched them, she saw irritation flash across Vector's steel-gazed face as he did not like this man's interference. Vector noticed him from the corner of his eye and simply scrunched up his nose in annoyance. He used his free hand, moving it to the back of his waist. His coat flew in the air with a slight movement.

The next thing Zarina saw was a gun in his hand. He didn't think twice before pointing it at the stranger without sparing him a single glance.

Vector was the most dangerous and trustworthy liege of his 'Boss' and needed no specific orders to get rid of anyone who dared to cross his path. It was simple, he knew how to do his job and he did it well. One wouldn't be as close to The Boss if he weren't as skilled as Vector was.

"No!" she whisper-shouted in shock and agony. Her eyes grew wide and her lips parted in surprise as her body shivered. She gulped down the saliva, taking in her first encounter with a gun. Though she always enjoyed watching James Bond playing with those things, right now, it only made her sweat cold.

The man stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at Vector for a minute. He couldn't believe his eyes. Is it a joke? He thought. How could someone dare to point a gun in a public place like this?

He was taken aback for a second, but wasn't the one to be afraid and back off. It must be a ruse, right? No one would dare shoot a gun in public, or at least that's what the man thought as he took one more tentative step forward, thinking Vector wouldn't do anything foolish in front of a posh hotel like this.

Unfortunately, that mistake cost him his life. A wisp of smoke escaped Vector's gun, following the loud bang moments before. The man, a stranger who had been brave enough to try and help, lay on the concrete ground. Blood gushed out of his chest and his soul was on the verge of leaving his body. The colour drained from the corpse as it lay there, lifeless.

Zarina was shocked. Her mouth fell open, and her eyes went as wide as was humanly possible. Whatever had just happened had been enough to freeze every cell in her body.

Vector still hadn't ceased dragging her. Even though his pace had slowed down because of the small 'inconvenience'.

Zarina glanced back at the blood-soaked man. She just couldn't believe an actual human being was shot dead in front of her. Was that because he tried to help her? She started feeling a pang of guilt and the dry sobs just racked out of her body even harder.

How can someone be so ruthless? She thought miserably to herself, not having enough courage to speak out to Vector, not with the gun in his hand.

"Pin-point shot! Are you kidding me? You gotta teach me that!" laughed Marcus, one of the four men in a black suit with a wide, unsympathetic grin stretching his lips as he opened the car's door for Vector to push Zarina in.

"Clean the mess! I'm driving to the mansion." Vector said with a straight face and dead-serious tone, ignoring Marcus's compliment completely.

"Uhh, yeah, no problem," Marcus replied, his smile faltering slightly.

Whatever happened next was completely a blur for Zarina. She never registered being pushed into the car, nor did she realize the door of the car closing on her, or the engine roaring to life. Her eyes were still glued to the dead saviour.

She felt a pang of something. That something was tearing her apart, eating her from the inside. Her cheeks were wet and her lips and throat were dry. She was looking no less than death itself, pale yet beautiful.

As the car moved, she watched as the hotel started getting smaller. Sitting inside, in the plush seats of the car, she was too shaken up to move or struggle at this point. Her whole body and mind were numb, gone too far to feel anything.

Thank God, breathing was an involuntary function. If it were left up to her, she would have forgotten to breathe. She couldn't stop blaming herself for what had happened. She knew it wasn't her fault, not entirely, but the grief kept swelling up her heart, the weight crushing what was left of her self-confidence.

The last thing she remembered before her exhausted body shut down on itself, was cursing her fate for involving her somewhere she didn't belong, in this dangerous game of the unknown.

The digital clock on the nightstand read 7:28 a.m. It was a beautiful morning, and the sun shone through the window.

The shimmering, warm rays crept into the room and bathed Zarina's bare skin as she slept. Her messed-up hair flowed in every direction, doing nothing to protect her from the shaft of sunshine attempting to wake her up.

Her bed was softer than the ones in the motels, and the fragrance in the air made her feel more at ease than she had expected.

The only way she could get rid of the bothersome beams glaring in her eyes was to roll to the other side.

Just a minute had gone by before her body tightened and she began to shudder, her eyes squeezed firmly shut. If it was possible, her eyelashes would have left imprints on her sensitive skin. Her lips dried up, and a sob struggled to escape. She was sound asleep but growing restless by the second.

She rolled one more time and ended up facing up at the ceiling.

"Please!.....Let ...me go....Please!...Don't...do this." she stuttered.

"NO!" she screamed, waking up breathless and struggling for air. She was completely awake, having lost all traces of the peaceful slumber she had had only a few minutes ago.

Her lips parted, allowing the air to fill her lungs. Tears lingered in her eyes, blurring her vision, until a little drop fell down her cheeks, followed by another.

"Dream. It was only a dream!" she whispered to herself.

She sighed in relief, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand and running her fingers through her beautiful brown hair. She began to relax, and that's when she heard him.

"Mantieni la tua voce bassa o io vi ucciderò." a sleepy male voice snapped at her.

[Keep your voice down or I'll kill you]

And here she thought her nightmare was worse.

She swallowed as her back tensed in response to the abrupt voice. She couldn't understand a single word. Not because of her drowsiness, but because it was spoken in a language that was far from her wits.

Yet, that seemed to be the least of her concerns. There were clearly more things for her to worry about right now.

First and foremost, who the hell was that?

Slowly praying under her breath, she snapped her head at the source. Her jaw fell, her eyes widened, and a bolt from nowhere slammed her senses with a hefty pound.

"Holy Shit!"

She shook her head and looked again. Maybe she was hallucinating? But she wasn't.

The view was still the same.

An almost naked man was sleeping by her side. Huge and bulky. Muscular like a beast.

Zarina swallowed hard against the painful pounding of her heart. Never in her life had she expected to wake up next to someone... someone like him.

The shameless man had nothing covering his strong and powerful chest, which lifted and sank with rapid breaths. And Zarina found it really hard to look away.

Instead, she bit her lip and tried not to feel undeserving of someone like him.

This man was everything she would want but could never hope to have. He was mind-numbingly gorgeous and fascinating enough to make her drool.

Her gentle gaze explored the long-forgotten scars on his body, suggesting he was a warrior. Her heart sank, and she felt sad thinking about what may have made him deserve them. There was a strong desire to feel them and see if they were still hurting. But the thought disappeared as soon as her gaze rested on the white sheets, which skillfully covered his body below his waist. She paused for a moment.

Shaking her head, she mentally smacked herself for tempting her to do something unacceptable. Next time, she went right for the face, which was just another masterpiece of God's art.

Anybody would be stopped in their tracks by that face. His tanned complexion was accentuated by his rich chocolate hair. Strong arched brows with eyelashes so thick they could be illegal. The stubble on his cheeks pleaded for her attention, compelling her to stay a mile away, afraid her touch might ruin them.

Zarina thought it must be a dream when she didn't remember bringing anyone home. Home? No. Hotel. She sighed and looked at her bed.

Wait! This wasn't her bed.

She looked around. This wasn't even her room.

Where the hell am I?

Her stomach churned in a way she didn't understand. A feeling of wanting to throw up with disgust filled her heart. She shut her eyes in frustration, trying to remember something, anything, that could explain what this guy was doing in her bed, or rather, what she was doing in his bed!

Glancing once again at the handsome man lying beside her, sudden fear arose in her stomach. She whipped her head down to look at herself. Pleased with what she saw, a sigh of relief escaped her lips. She was covered in the right amount of clothes. The only good thing that happened to her this morning.

But wait a minute!

She looked down again and let out a silent gasp.

They weren't her clothes. Her brows snapped in shock. She didn't remember buying herself a short satin nightgown that failed to cover the skin below her thighs. She panicked. And who the hell changed them?

That was it. She couldn't take it anymore. A lot had happened, and there was no explanation for anything.

Especially the man sleeping next to her.

She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Wasting not another second, she scooted from the bed as silently as she could and tiptoed towards the door.

Once she reached the handle, she turned back one last time to find that the man was still asleep. She could only see his back from here, but it was enough to leave her palms covered in sweat.

Deep down in her heart, she wanted to stay and learn how she ended up with a guy like him, but the thought was creeping her out at the same time.

Gulping, she turned back and rotated the golden knob.

Nope.

Nothing happened.

She tried again.

Nothing.

The door was locked. Maybe from outside? She huffed in frustration. Who the hell does that? This man was really crazy, or maybe a sad case of a psychopath.

OK. She shouldn't have thought that, it only made her trembling body shiver more. Now she seriously wanted to leave this room anyhow. She struggled with the knob again. But it wasn't ready to grant her wish.

"Bisogno di aiuto?" A deep, raspy voice slapped her ears, sending sudden shivers down her spine.

[Need Help?]

She stiffened. Heart racing. Feet wobbling. Dumbstruck in her own form.

For a while, there was a pin-drop silence. Except for the heavy breathing, it belonged to the girl standing and facing the door. No one said anything.

Zarina must have felt hot because the man on the bed was continuously burning her with his volcanic gaze. His eyes were glued to her. Lips were pursed and curled up at one end, proudly smirking at the poor girl. He was enjoying the view in front of him. Why wouldn't he? She was trying hard. So hard to get away from him, which was in no way in hell possible for anyone.

None of her attempts left the bloody door open. She was annoyed. She wanted to break through, no matter what the consequence. Even if it meant she'd end up breaking a few bones.

She could have easily asked him the reason for being here and every detail of what happened last night, but she decided to stop beating around the bush and come straight to the point.

"I need to go," she mumbled, turning back and facing the man, who was now half sitting with the support of the red wall behind him. Crossing his arms, he looked at her with mysterious amusement. She did not know how, but her eyes locked with his in a snap. He was staring. She was staring. He was smirking. She was frowning.

"I said...I need to go," she reiterated confidently.

"Fiducia. Me piace. NO!" he snapped. Though she didn't understand Italian, the loud 'NO' was more than clear. She frowned once more.

[Confidence. I like it]

"What? Why? I have to go. I can't stay here. My friends will panic if they don't find me." She lied. As much as she hated to admit it, the truth wasn't as pleasant as she wanted it to sound. There was no one waiting for her. She was alone. Completely alone.

"Questo non è un scelta." he said while getting up from his bed. He very well was aware of Zarina's incapability to understand Italian but he still kept irking her. Maybe he was enjoying her priceless expressions whenever he spoke. He walked to the couch next to the bed, on the right of Zarina, to grab his white linen shirt.

[This is not a choice]

Zarina's eyes widened for the hundredth time today. Him being bare chest in front of her eyes wasn't enough sensual torture that now he was trying to awestruck her with his magnificent moving body. Though he was barely trying.

Zarina shrugged her nasty emotions, diverting her from the primary aim. This man was being difficult. Add the language out of her wits and you'll know how distraught she was. He ignored her glares and put on his clothes. Then, wearing an unbuttoned shirt and a pair of black slacks, he sat down on the couch for his shoes.

"See. I don't think you're getting what I'm saying. So let me try something...this." She moved her hands mimicking the words 'I NEED TO GO', in case he wasn't aware of the English language. She immediately scolded herself mentally. How the hell would he reply if he wasn't understanding her? Silly Zarina.

Though he was busy lacing up his shoes, he saw her little kiddish performance.

Now it was his turn to frown.

For one moment, he was trying to be nice to someone, and she was disrespecting him.

A single 'NO' was enough if he'd said it in a way to strike fear. She did not know the man standing in front of her wasn't any ordinary man. He was a beast, a heartless monster, renowned for slitting throats in a single, cold-blooded swipe.

His eyes shot red.

She could swear there was fury erupting beneath them.

His hands tightened into fists while his shoulders broadened.

She swallowed hard and doubted if he was the same man, she had seen only a minute earlier.

Never in his life would he repeat himself. His words were stone carved and not even his strongest enemies dared to take them lightly. His men respected him and were ready to die for his command. But for this silly girl, he did. He repeated.

"NO!" he growled.

His voice echoed around the room, or maybe it was her eardrums vibrating as if an enormous force had hit them. The confidence in her voice melted to the ground when she saw him advancing toward her.

"Why?" A soft disappointment managed to escape her lips with a shudder.

"Enough!" he snarled. She flinched.

Standing only a few inches away from her, he was trying hard to push back the feeling of ripping open someone's head. Her head for that matter. Oh! How badly he wanted to shut that pretty little mouth of hers, who wasn't tired of disrespecting his word. Again.

Zarina felt like a fish out of water. Frightened. Desperate. Struggling for air, which this tall man hovering over her was blocking without even knowing or caring. But that was her least concern compared to how furious he appeared.

"So che è contro il tuo desiderio. But you can't leave. Not until I'm done," he said with a straight face and perilous gaze, closing whatever distance lingered between them.

[I know it's against your wish]

Zarina felt paralyzed for a moment, but his words hit like bricks in her face. Anger flared up in her.

"Done what? Raping me?" she snapped instantly, holding back the tears that threatened to fall.

His serious face transformed into something she couldn't believe. He smirked. Again. Why? What was so funny?

"Tempting," a stupid smirk still plastered on his face, he pinned her to the door. Looking at her eye to eye. "Molto. But not now." His whisper in her hair sent shivers down her spine.

[Very]

He nuzzled in the crook of her neck and inhaled her fragrance seductively. His hot breath fanned and tingled her skin with no shame. Circling his fingers at the back of her neck, he was marking her with some invisible ink.

She swallowed her nervousness, only to meet the bubbles in her stomach.

"Until you beg for it," he whispered, enticing her uncontrolled emotions and setting the whole zoo free in her stomach.

Her cheeks flushed scarlet. No man ever crossed the boundaries she drew around her. This guy was testing her. Teasing her.

Zarina felt ashamed, eyes glued to her feet all the time. Head down. Just like he wanted. He liked it. He was used to it.

"Now, get out of my way!" he instructed a little brutally.

She followed obediently.

He opened the door, rotating the knob to the other side.

What? Was that a joke?

But she said nothing. There were much worse things for her to worry about. Starting with this man. Who was he? What did he want?

"And yes..." he turned back one last time, "...do pay homage to your rescuer. It's sad it cost him his life," he said without a hint of regret or empathy.

His words hit her like ice water, and a pair of blue eyes instantly snapped at him in horror.

"It was indeed quite brave and noble of him, yet not so smart," he said, smirking with a wink. With that, he slammed the door, leaving a shocked Zarina behind.

Zarina lost her nerves when every memory of last night crashed right in front of her eyes.

Dragging, kidnapping...Killing?

Her conscience screamed nothing less than terror when the image of that man appeared, lying on the ground, soaked in his own blood.

She felt sick.

A feeling inside her wanted to throw up. She was sweating without feeling it. She wasn't aware of her shaking, either.

Everything she thought was a dream was actually a cold reality.

A nightmare.

The burden of causing someone's death weakened her knees.

Collapsing on the floor, unaware of the tears running down her cheeks and making her nightgown all wet.

Her skin grew pale. A feeling that rose in her chest was something she had never felt. Regret.

Though it wasn't her fault, she felt guilty.

And there was nothing she could do to change it.