Desired by the Mafia Kings

L A N A

The four men behind him are huge, all of them wearing the same matching black suits, all of them moving with the same precision, scanning the room suspiciously as they stick to the man in front of them. Are they... bodyguards?

"Don't stare for too long or you'll get yourself in trouble." I hear the voice of the bartender, and that's when I look back at him, curiously, noticing that even he is trying to keep his head low.

"Who is that...?" I suddenly find myself asking for God knows what ever reason. The bartender pauses what he's doing and looks back at me as if I've just asked the most absurd question on the planet.

A deep frown settles on his brows, and he glances around a few times as if to check if anyone is listening. "How can you be here and not know who that is...?" He asks, his voice quiet and low, and my heart won't stop racing in my chest. What is he not telling me?

"That's Ezio Benedetti." He whispers as if I'm supposed to know who that is. More confusion reigns on my face as I glance back at the man, watching as he strides through the club like he owns every inch of it. I look back at the bartender and find his expression fixed on someone, Ezio, I presume, and in a moment, his expression turns cold.

The bartender shifts closer to me, his voice still low. "Whatever you do, don't react. Just breathe." He tries to say, but all it does is make me even more nervous.

"Why, what's going on?" I whisper to him, feeling too scared to turn around.

"Don't make eye contact. Stay calm. You're just a guest." He says, refusing to answer my question, and I breathe slowly to try and calm myself, picking up my drink and taking a large gulp of it as I feel the alcohol slowly hit my body.

My hands suddenly go clammy, and I find it hard to keep still. I'm supposed to be ordering an Uber right now and getting out of here, not trying to figure out who this mysterious man with 4 bodyguards is...

I subtly turn back and watch as Ezio walks with effortless grace to the back of the lounge. His men, just as sharp, just as silent, move closely behind him. He stops beside a man sitting at a private corner booth. They don't shake hands. They don't smile. The man simply looks up at Ezio, staring as if he's seen a ghost, the men around him suddenly standing to their feet in pure terror.

Then, what happens next leaves me completely stunned...

It happens in a split second.

One second, Ezio is saying something to the man across from him, watching him seemingly plead for his life, the next, he is whipping out his gun faster than the eye can catch and shoots the man at point-blank.

I jolt, before my entire body freezes.

The gunshot is sharp. Not explosive or too loud. Instead, it's muffled and controlled through the silencer fitted at its tip. The music cuts for a second, the instrumentalists momentarily stunned, before they take a look at each other... and then... they continue playing... like nothing just happened.

What.. the actual... fuck...

The man Ezio was speaking to slumps sideways in the booth, with a gunshot wound to his forehead, blood spewing out the back of his head and spilling onto the floor.

I glance around the room and notice how no one else reacts; in fact, everyone is perfectly calm despite a man just getting shot and killed in front of them.

My throat closes up. My brain stops processing.

Did I just see that? Didn't everyone else see that?! Why am I the only one giving a normal reaction?

Ezio steps back, placing his gun back in his pocket and adjusting his jacket. Two of the men standing behind him step forward to carry the dead man out of the room, and more men pile in with cleaning supplies, moving towards the areas where the deceased man had spilt blood.

Okay, what the fuck is this place?!

People go back to their drinks. Slowly. Like this is routine. Like this is just another Tuesday night.

But me, on the other hand? I can't move.

I can't pretend I didn't see what I just saw. My breath catches in my chest, and that's when Ezio turns and locks eyes with me. That's when I feel the air sucked out of my lungs, my blood turning cold.

He smirks right at me, a slow, evil smile that says, 'You saw. I know you did.' Except he is not at all sorry that I did...

I try to look away, but I can't. I feel pinned to the seat, like a rabbit in a trap.

He lifts two fingers and gestures, ordering the remaining two men behind him to approach me.

No. No. No.

That's when I slide off the barstool without thinking, my heart pounding so hard, the fear causing a knot to form in my throat and my stomach. As I stand up, a wave hits me harshly, and that's when I feel the alcohol start to kick in. No... no, no, no, no... this can't be happening to me right now...

"Don't run," the bartender says under his breath, making an attempt to talk some sense into me.

But I'm already on my feet, with the only intention of getting the fuck out of here. I take off sprinting towards the lounge doors, watching them draw closer and closer. I'm almost completely through them, until I collide with two bodies in front of me, two large men who had been standing close to the entrance this whole time. 

I gasp as I stumble back, staring back at them fearfully and glancing around at where else I can go. I turn my head to the receptionist from earlier, hoping she would help me in some sort of way, but all she does is watch me with raised eyebrows, as if I'm the only strange one here. I continue backing away, my back bumps into something that makes me gasp, more men... more of his bodyguards. They all surround me, staring down at me with cold, robotic gazes. That's when two of them grab and turn me around, beginning to haul me back into the lounge as I begin struggling against their hold, exasperated breaths leaving my lips as I look up at them fearfully. 

"L-let me go... please!" I begin fighting them as they lift me off the ground effortlessly, holding me by my arms as if I weighed nothing. And that's when I realise that they're taking me right towards him... towards the man they call Ezio Benedetti...