One hour later, Elian had landed in a police station.
He sat in the corner of the holding cell, his knees drawn up to his chest, tears incessantly streaming down his face.
Had Rafael died? Was he a murderer now? When will the Lombardis come to kill him or they would rather let him spend the rest of his life rotting in prison?
The questions circled in his mind like vultures. He'd attacked a Lombardi. Even if Rafael survived, the family would make sure Elian still paid for it. He was done for either way.
Around him, other detainees talked and paced. Some slept, some argued in hushed voice but Elian just sat there, feeling completely numb.
Hours passed. Or maybe minutes as time had lost all meaning, to Elian.
Then two officers appeared outside the cell. They were tall, broad-shouldered, and wore expressions that gave nothing away. They unlocked the door and stepped inside, their eyes scanning the occupants.
When their gazes landed on Elian sitting alone in the corner, they looked at each other and nodded.
"You. Stand up."
Elian's head snapped up. He wiped at his face quickly and got to his feet, his legs shaky.
Were they taking him for questioning? To give a statement? What would he say?
He wondered inwardly and his heart rate increased rapidly.
"Come with us." One of the officers ordered.
Elian followed them out of the cell, past the other holding areas, through the station. But they didn't turn toward the interrogation rooms instead, they headed straight for the exit.
Elian's eyes darted around the surrounding, swallowing hard as if to swallow the question that was rising in his mind.
Where were they going?
Outside, a black van waited in the parking lot. Its windows were tinted dark. And that was where the officers led him to.
Elian stopped walking then and finally asked the question burning his mind;
"What is going on? Where are we going?" He inquired quietly but none of the officers answered. One of them opened the van's back door while the other gripped Elian's arm, steering him forward.
"I asked where we're going!" Elian tried to pull back, but the grip tightened.
The officer holding him leaned toward the driver's window. "This is the one."
The driver, hidden behind the tinted glass, nodded sharply.
Elian's heart started to race as he could sense that something was very wrong.
"Who are you people? Where are you taking me?"
The back door of the van swung open fully, and Elian's blood ran cold.
Inside sat two men in prison guard uniforms. Prison guards, not police officers.
"No, wait, I haven't even been to court yet! I haven't been tried!" Elian tried to wrench his arm free, but before he could get another word out, they shoved him into the van.
The door slammed shut behind him and immediately, the van lurched forward, driving off.
~~~~~~~~~
The drive felt endless to Elian.
He was seated between the two prison guards, his hands trembling in his laps, his lips slightly quivering as he had them slightly opened.
He had tried asking questions at first. Where were they taking him? Why wasn't he getting a trial? What about a lawyer?
The guards never answered. They just stared straight ahead like he didn't exist.
Eventually, Elian gave up and looked out the small window. The city lights faded behind them. Buildings gave way to empty roads and stretches of darkness.
They were leaving the city entirely.
By the time the van finally stopped, the sun was beginning to set. Everything was happening so fast and time was slipping away.
It had just been early afternoon that Elian headed to Matteo's apartment where things had gotten... Dreadful.
Elian squinted as the van door opened. Before him stood a massive structure, all concrete walls and barbed wire fencing. Guard towers loomed at each corner.
They had brought him to an actual prison.
"No, this is wrong!" Elian stumbled as the guards pulled him out. "I haven't been tried! You can't just throw me in prison without a trial!"
Despite his loud voice, he got no response. They just gripped his arms tighter and marched him toward the entrance.
The prison gates opened to reveal corridors that was cold and lit by harsh fluorescent lights.
However, the guards didn't take him to the general population. They led him down a separate hallway, one that was quieter, cleaner and totally different.
Elian's eyes squinted as he looked around the surrounding, his breathing getting so noisy that even the guards could hear it but they chose not to comment on it.
Finally, they stopped in front of a door that looked nothing like a cell door. It was solid, expensive-looking. One of the guards unlocked it and shoved Elian inside.
Then closed the door. Elian stumbled forward, catching himself before he fell. He spun around, but the guards were already gone. He was alone.
"God, what have I gotten myself into? I don't..." He was just starting to wonder aloud when his eyes caught his current surroundings.
He paused mid-sentence and his jaw dropped.
This wasn't a cell. It couldn't be.
Elian shook his head at the thought, totally convinced because of what he was seeing.
The room was large, probably three times the size of a normal prison cell. There was a proper bed, not a cot, with an actual mattress and pillows. A desk and chair sat in one corner. Bookshelves lined one wall. There was even a moderate sized bathroom visible through an open door, complete with a real shower.
It looked like a luxury studio apartment.
"What the hell?" Elian walked further into the room, his mind wondering why they would put him in a place like this?
Was this some kind of VIP cell? Did such things even exist?
He was still trying to make sense of it when he heard the door open again behind him.
Elian spun around to see a man walking in and at the sight, Elian literally forgot how to breathe.
The man was tall, at least six foot three, maybe more. He had dark hair that fell slightly over his forehead, sharp cheekbones, and a jaw that could cut glass.
He was lean and had muscles just at the right places. Even in the plain prison uniform he wore, he looked like he had stepped out of a fashion magazine.
However, something about him made Elian's stomach drop. His eyes...
They were cold. Predatory. The kind of eyes that saw everything and gave nothing away.
The man closed the door behind him and walked further into the room with the confidence of someone who owned everything he touched. His gaze swept over Elian slowly, assessing.
Then he walked to the bed and sat down, leaning back against the headboard. He looked completely at ease, like a king on his throne.
When he spoke, his voice was deep and smooth, almost beautiful. But his words made Elian's blood turn to ice.
"Why are you still clothed?"
Elian blinked. "What?"
The man's eyes narrowed slightly, his tone sharpening with impatience;
"Strip and come kneel before me. I need a release right now."
Elian's face scrunched up in shock and disgust. His mouth opened and closed, trying to form words.
"Excuse me? What did you just say?" he finally managed.
The man tilted his head, studying Elian like he was a puzzle that didn't quite fit. Then he
"I bought you so you aren't in the position to ask me questions. Besides, I hate repeating myself. Now, strip!" The man commanded in a quiet yet terrifying voice.
Maybe it would be less terrifying if he had actually shouted.
Elian took a step back, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief;
"Bought? Who sold me?"