L A N A
Before any of us can say anything, a woman's voice cuts through the tension.
"Boss." A woman calls out, and I watch as Ezio's face changes completely, anger and irritation now crossing his features as he slowly turns in the direction of the person who just spoke, still remaining in front of me and giving me no room to move at all.
I turn my head and see her standing in the doorway. A tall, elegant woman, wearing a black fitted dress, her brown hair tied back, with a set of glasses covering her blue eyes. She looks at me once, then back at him. "My apologies for the intrusion."
"What is it, Fernanda?" He asks, his tone clearly irritated.
"Everything is set for tonight, sir. The guests will begin arriving in 1 hour." She announces, and Ezio sighs and turns back to me, continuing to stare down at me carefully.
"Good." He says. "I want you to get her ready for tonight. Get her out of this dress, have her cleaned up and changed into something... black..." He says to me, his eyes glinting. "I'd like to show off my newest prize."
I stare at him, horror curling in my chest. Prize? The word burns.
The woman, Fernanda, doesn't flinch. Instead, she nods once, gracefully. "Of course, Don Ezio."
The title catches my attention instantly, making my heart sink to my feet.
"Don?" I repeat, blinking up a few times. "As in–..." I can barely get the words out... "T-The leader of..." I try to say, but he finishes before I can.
"An Italian Mafia? Yes, darling." He smiles, finally looks amused. He finally steps away from me, allowing me to breathe as he looks back at me, his smirk deepening. "You really don't know who I am, do you?"
My mouth goes dry. "No..." I whisper.
"Then let me be the first to say…" He pauses, his voice low, rich and deadly. "Welcome to the Underground, Lana..."
His words reverberate in my mind, and for a moment, I feel like I'm not even in my own body, like my mind has hidden me somewhere far to try and keep me safe. But suddenly I come crashing back down, quickly realising that this isn't a figment of my imagination... and I have come face to face with the Don of an Italian Mafia... Ezio Benedetti.
That explains everything. The way he moved in the lounge, how people were so terrified of him but couldn't say a thing. The bodyguards, the lavish lifestyle, the mansion... the killing...
He runs an entire criminal organisation...
He watches me silently, as if my reaction amuses him, before he snaps his fingers once. Footsteps flood into the room, and I turn to watch his guards step towards me. I don't even have time to react before two of them grip my arms, gently but firmly.
"Have Fernanda lead the way." Is all he orders, and the men nod swiftly before they begin tugging me in the direction of the woman who had spoken earlier.
"W-wait..." I try to say, but they're already taking me across the room. I look back over my shoulder, my heart pounding, my voice caught somewhere between disbelief and fear. I can't believe what my life has come to now...
I catch Ezio watching me. He hasn't moved, and is standing right where I left him, framed by the golden firelight, watching me with that same expression – calm, sure and possessive.
Like he's already won.
The woman spins around and continues to walk forward, her hips swaying from side to side as she walks.
"Don't fight it," she says softly without even looking at me, almost kindly. "It's easier if you don't..."
But I can't even answer her. My thoughts are spinning too fast, and my chest feels too tight. I keep walking because they make me, because my body doesn't know what else to do. They lead me through another hallway, the echo of my heels filling the air as we move forward.
Welcome to the Underground. His words linger again...
The words repeat in my mind over and over, until they start to sound like a sentence being passed.
And as the doors close behind me, I know one thing for certain... whatever I thought fear was before tonight, I was wrong. Because this isn't fear anymore. This is something deeper.
Something that feels a lot like being claimed.
The hallway seems to go on forever, and every step I take echoes faintly against the marble floor, bouncing back at me like a sound that doesn't belong in my ears. Felicia walks a few paces ahead, her stride unhurried, as though she's leading me to a gala rather than deeper into captivity. The soft click of her heels keeps time with the racing of my heart, steady, relentless and almost hypnotic.
I continue to scan the hallways, taking in my surroundings as I'm led forward. I don't know whether to be terrified or impressed. Both, maybe. It all looks too perfect to be real, and I can't this is a place Ezio calls home...
Fernanda doesn't speak, and I don't ask questions. I just walk, my heels clicking softly beside hers, my pulse a drumbeat under my skin. My dress, the one I wore hours ago, thinking the worst thing I'd face tonight was heartbreak, now feels all wrong, too elegant for this nightmare. The fabric clings to me, heavy with sweat and fear, and though it's under the wrong circumstances, I can't wait to get out of it and get cleaned up.
We pass a massive set of double doors carved from dark oak, and through the crack, I catch a glimpse of men in tuxedos, a bar lined with crystal decanters and the soft murmur of conversation. It feels like another world entirely, one I clearly don't belong to.
Fernanda glances back at me briefly, her eyes shifting over my body with quiet curiosity. Her gaze lingers on the hem of my dress, the necklace around my throat, the trembling hands I keep trying to hide.
That's when she finally breaks the silence.
"That's a lovely dress… Vera Wang?" Her voice is smooth, her politeness seeming genuine.
"Y-yes…" I manage to stutter, my voice hoarse, my throat still raw from crying.
She glances back briefly, eyes cool and assessing. "There's a ring on your finger."
I look down automatically, staring at the diamond that still sits there, mocking me, glinting under the gold lighting like it's proud to be part of my humiliation. I should've taken it off hours ago. Maybe I should've thrown it at Tyler's face.
"Yes," I whisper. "I'm engaged… well… I was engaged."
"What happened?" she asks, as if she's asking about the weather.
"My fiancé was cheating on me with my best friend." I answer her.
"Ah." She nods once, unimpressed. "That's unfortunate."
I blink, staring at her in disbelief. "You sound like you don't really care."
Her lips twitch slightly, not quite a smile, more like the shadow of one. "You're right, I don't."
Of course, even the people who work for him are cold-hearted...
The hallway opens into a large bedroom that looks like it was pulled out of a royal film set. The mirrors have gold frames around them, just like the ones in the living room and cream drapes spill to the floor. The room is filled with soft amber light, and the bed alone could fit 5 of me, layered with silk sheets so perfect it feels wrong that I'm even standing near them.
Once we're inside, the men holding onto me finally let go and leave the room, just as Fernanda turns to face me.
"The bathroom is through that door. Everything you need is in there. You have exactly fifteen minutes. After that, someone will come for your hair and makeup." She explains, and I just stand there, frozen.
She tilts her head slightly, her voice still calm but laced with warning. "Don't try to leave this room. There are guards posted outside. And don't bother trying to escape either. The windows are tempered and bulletproof."
Her tone doesn't change, not even slightly, but I can feel the threat behind every word. Then she turns and walks out, her heels fading into the hallway, the click of the door lock echoing softly behind her.
I stare at the door for a few seconds longer before sighing to myself, a heavy sound that comes from somewhere deep in my chest. I turn slowly, letting my eyes sweep over the room.
It's beautiful... painfully beautiful. There's a faint scent of jasmine and expensive perfume hanging in the air, art on the walls – Renaissance paintings, maybe originals, who knows – and a tray of crystal decanters sitting on a dresser near the bed.
It's a prison disguised as a palace.
Despite the lavishness, there's a chill here, one that crawls under my skin. I can feel Ezio's presence even when he's not here... his shadow, his authority, the weight of what he's done. I press my arms around myself, trying to hold onto whatever piece of sanity I have left.
I think about running. About finding a way out. But Fernanda's voice repeats in my head: Don't bother. Guards outside. Bulletproof windows.
I look toward the curtains anyway, half hoping she's lying. When I pull one back, I see exactly what she meant. The glass looks thick, glossy, flawless. Beyond it, a wide courtyard, a dark garden, men in suits walking their rounds like clockwork.
My stomach sinks. There's no way out.
So instead, I do the only thing left to do, I go to the bathroom and decide to get cleaned up.