Chapter 42

Y A S M E E N

I couldn't sit still. I keep walking back and forth in Alejandro's office. Marcus left the second he dropped me off, so I had to ask the receptionist to ring me up at Alejandro's office. I can feel the adrenaline in my veins rushing at the horrible thought of what could've happened to Zara. My thoughts are interrupted when the door opens, hitting the wall hard. I jump at the loud sound, seeing Alejandro walk in. I can safely say he has probably slept less than me in the past three days. There are dark shadows under his eyes, he has a rough, unkempt stubble, and his lips are dry and cracked. The only thing that's put together are his clothes but even his tie is not on properly. But seeing him only made my uneasiness worst, whatever news he has can't be any better than all the possibilities that have been going through my head.

"Shut the fuck up! I want a location by tonight or I'll send your fucking limbs to your wife!" He yells into the phone, making me flinch.

"Alejandro...?" I call him out quietly. "About Zara..."

"She's gone, Yasmeen!" He yells. "She's fucking gone!"

"Gone?" I whisper. "Gone where? Please fill me in, please."

"Elijah, that fucker! When I find him, I'll fuck him up! I'll kill that bastard!" Alejandro is seeing red. He can't focus on what I'm saying, and neither can he focus on anything going on calmly. I have never seen him lose his calm and collected mannerism but seeing him as this scared me enough to take a step back.

"Alejandro, can you please listen to me for a minute?" I plead with him.

"What?!" He snaps at me.

"I just want to know why you think Elijah took her," I say quietly. He sighs and clicks a button on the landline on his desk, "Call Marcus up."

A few minutes later, Marcus arrives, and Alejandro tells him to play something. Marcus plugs in a USB and plays a clip on the computer. The scene plays out in front of my eyes... Elijah makes Zara uncomfortable to the point where she has the door reared in to not let him in and then, he forces his way inside only to hit her over the head, knocking her unconscious.

I gasp. "This can't be right... He... Elijah wouldn't..."

Alejandro gets another call, which he ends up leaving the room for. He slams the door shut before leaving, making me jump yet again. I re-watch the video on repeat a couple more times, each time watching the life leave Zara's eyes right before she loses consciousness.

"There's no way Elijah would do this, he couldn't, he wouldn't," I say as the clip registers in my mind.

"He clearly did," Marcus states quite insensitively.

"But why would he? Why..." My words trail off.

"It bothers you because he didn't turn out to be the man you thought he was," he says. "Your dreams of being with him aren't working—"

"Shut up, Marcus! Shut up!" I scream at him. "You know damn well he's not the man I dreamt of being with!"

"You two need to take your problems elsewhere," Alejandro interrupts us. "There are far more important things to attend to at the moment." His eyes are dark in anger.

This quickly shuts up both Marcus and me. I take a few steps away from him, sitting down on the couch with my head in my hands. Think, Yasmeen, think. There must be something minor that Elijah had slipped up in our conversation. Anything. I go through the whole night repeatedly in my head, replaying every second of it while trying to drown out Alejandro's yelling and screaming in the background.

And then it hits me. "Alejandro!" I yell out. He stops his conversation with Marcus to look at me. "Elijah said something to me during our conversation that might be important."

"Well? What is it?" He waits for me to continue impatiently.

"The problem is I don't remember the exact pronunciation of the place. He told me if I weren't so hung up on Marcus, he would take me to Ariento? No, that's not right," I pause and try again, "Agento? That doesn't sound right either."

Alejandro's eyes widen, "Agrigento?"

"Yes! Yes!" I exclaim.

"Fuck, the Gambino's used to own a mansion in that city," Alejandro mumbles to himself.

"The Contrada San Vincenzo?" Marcus asks. "But the family sold it years ago after Gambino's brother died."

"Frank should be around there for his stealth assignment," Alejandro mumbles more to himself than us. "You're a fucking genius, Yasmeen," Alejandro says as he pulls out his phone to type something.

Any other day, I would've drank up the compliment but today, it feels grim.

"Marcus, drop her off at home and increase the presence of security at your building. There's going to be a fucking blood bath." The darkness in Alejandro's eyes are apparent.

"Yes, Boss," Marcus says.

"Yasmeen, it would be for the better if you do not leave your apartment until further notice. If you need anything, let Marcus know and he will arrange what is needed."

"What are you going to do?" I ask cautiously.

"It's better if you're left in the dark," he answers quietly before leaving the room.

• • •

Days go by and the furthest I've gone to the outside is my balcony. The chilly January air touches my skin, making me shiver. Being so high up off the ground makes it feel like I'm in a completely different universe, it's very calming considering the chaos ensuing around me. Neither Alejandro nor Marcus have contacted me in the last couple of days. I didn't try to contact them either because I didn't want to become a burden during. I'm in constant contact with my Abbu (Dad), making sure he's eating and sleeping on time. He's been traveling loads for work recently and it worries me that he might be overworking himself. He still thinks I'm trying to clear my mind, trying to mend my mental health. Little does he know my mental health is slowly dwindling. I feel shame and guilt to have to hide something so severe from him, but I would rather not pass on health issues to my father because of what I got myself into.

I walk back inside the apartment, cuddling up in front of the fireplace in the living room. This enormous apartment only fuels my loneliness further until I start to lose myself in destructive thoughts. Luckily, the doorbell rings shaking me out of my thoughts. It must be Marcus because he's the only human contact I've had for a while, even if we don't exchange any words.

I open the door to be greeted by some random woman. I look at her with surprise, not expecting anyone else, "Hi, can I help you?"

She smiles, making me uncomfortable, "Yes, you can." She pulls out a gun and points it right at me.

• • •

Z A R A

"You want me to pretend to be on your side?" I raise a brow, that's what Philip meant by acting like someone I'm not. "And what good will that do for either of us?"

"I suggest you don't ask any questions and just follow Philip's orders if you want to live," Elijah replies.

"Oh? And who said I want to live?" I quirk a brow.

"I apologize, let me rephrase that," he says. "I would suggest you keep your mouth shut if you don't want anything to happen to anyone you love."

I do indeed shut my mouth.

"Now, you will be cleaned up and dressed for the meeting with Alejandro tonight. It will be at a business event so the chances of Alejandro making a scene is very slim. Do not act out of line if you know what's best for you." Elijah says before leaving me in alone in the room.

They did end up switching me to a bedroom with actual windows and a door. Of course, the door is locked, not that I'd try to run away. I've been all patched up and medicated, though my whole body is still sore and in constant aching from being tortured. I still have to take a shower, but I can barely lift my arms and legs without pain shooting through them. As I try to drag myself to the bathroom, I think about how I'm meeting Alejandro tonight. How will he react? How will I react? I wonder if Marcus or Frank are with him. I hope Yasmeen doesn't come with them because she wouldn't be able to bear to see me like this.

A couple of hours later, I had been given a makeover in the sense that they sent professional makeup artists to cover up all my scars and wounds, making me look like I haven't been tortured to the brink of death for the last few days. I look at the mirror and could finally recognize myself again. The swelling around my eyes and lips has gone down, and the bruises on my arms and face have been covered up. They decided not to waste time on my legs because no one will see them or notice them. I was given a simple floor-length dress and a black scarf to complete the look.

I feel sick seeing myself like this, nausea climbs up my throat and I run to the washroom to heave up anything that was left in my stomach. Hovering over the toilet, I think about how sick I feel. I don't want to go out, I don't want to see anyone, I don't want to see him. But at the same time, I do. I'm miserable and broken, yet no tears fall from my eyes. I'm just exhausted, I want this all to end. I want to go home, please, someone take me home.

• • •

Y A S M E E N

"Uh... I think you might've gotten the wrong apartment," I keep my voice steady.

The woman doesn't even blink, her stance is the same with her gun pointed right at me. "Yasmeen Yasin." It's a statement, not a question.

"Who's that?" I raise a brow, keeping myself calm. But my legs are about to give out from absolute fear and my hands are quickly starting to sweat. "I'm Yumi Xiuying." I make up the first name and use my middle name as a surname. "Now, I can forget this whole ordeal since you've clearly mistaken me for someone else," I slowly begin to close the door. "Have a nice day."

I run to the other end of the house after grabbing a large chef's knife from the kitchen. What the hell is going on? How did she even get up here without permission? What happened to security?

I quickly go to the living room for my phone, dialing Marcus. It rings repeatedly but he doesn't answer. I call him again and again as my breathing quickens. "Please, pick up. Please." But he doesn't.

Suddenly, I hear a loud bang and I know for a fact my door's been kicked in. "Damn it!" She had to have made it inside. I quickly text Marcus 'help'. I don't have time to type up a whole explanation because I'm pretty sure I'm about to be assassinated. I peek my head to see the woman holding up her gun, scanning the home for me.

I quietly make my way to my room and lock myself in the closet. I settle down in the corner, clutching the knife against my chest. I'm way too calm for someone who's about to be killed. Though my heart is beating faster than I can imagine, my hands shaking and there's no strength left in my legs, I'm not outwardly panicked. I lean my head against the wardrobe, closing my eyes and thinking about Abbu, thinking about Zara, thinking about... Marcus. Right then, my phone vibrates, sending me into a frenzy. It's Marcus, I smile down at the name.

"Hello?" I whisper.

"What do you want?" His tone is as cold as ever. Oh, how I'll miss this voice in my dying moments.

"There's a lady in my apartment with a gun sent here to kill me," I whisper quickly.

There's silence on his end for a few seconds. "I would appreciate it if you didn't disrupt me for meaningless reasons."

Oh, he thinks I'm lying.

"Marcus, I'm serious. There's someone in my apartment trying to kill me," my voice gets quieter when I hear footsteps. The desperation of my last moments starts spilling through my words, "Listen, I don't think I'll live any longer to be able to tell you this, so here I go," I start, my voice barely a whisper. "Marcus, I want you to know that every moment I spent with you—no matter how short-lived—was as enchanting as it can be. Moments with you made me wish I had the power to stop time. Whenever you were around, I felt safe, as if nothing bad could ever happen to me—"

"Yasmeen, what are you saying?" His cold tone quickly changes to concern.

"Marcus, please let me finish. I don't have time," I plead. "No matter how cold and passive you were, you always brought me warmth. You made me a little more alive and a little less lost. I wish I could hold you one last time, maybe even just touch you one last time but ironically, I'm the one who's run out of time... I love you, Marcus." My shaky hand hovers over my mouth as I confess at last.

Tears finally begin to roll down my cheeks while I hold back a cry. "After all this heartache, I still love you. I wish our story didn't end the way it did because I swear, I wanted to grow old with you and love you for the rest of our lives. I know I'm acting shameless and outrageous even after you said you want nothing to do with me but I genuinely don't think I'll ever have another chance to say this and I don't want to die with any regrets."

I hope and I pray you to fall in love with someone who never gets tired of your beautiful soul, accepting every light and dark side that comes with it. Don't miss me too much when I'm gone, though. But I'll come back and haunt you if you forget me," I giggle through my sobs at the end. "I love you deeply and unconditionally. Goodbye, Marcus..."

"Yasmeen! —" I hang up before he could say anything further. Right that second, the woman begins to kick down my door and I grip the knife in my hand even harder. My heart is pounding against my chest while sweat is forming literally everywhere. The door breaks down and I shuffle further back into the closet.

"You're causing more trouble than I'd like," she groans.

"You sound like someone I know," I think about how Marcus says I cause trouble all the time.

"I'll make this quick and end it swiftly. I don't have time to hang around," she aims at me and presses the trigger.

"Neither do I," I dodge it, but I wasn't fast enough. It grazes against my nondominant arm, as blood seeps through my sleeve, soaking it. I turn around to see that the bullet made a clear hole in the wall behind me. I don't feel the pain yet, the adrenaline running through me is making me numb. I need to do as much as I can before I lose too much blood. I lunge at her with the knife in my hand, which she barely dodges. I manage to cut against her chest, but it wasn't enough. I attack her again, disarming her and kicking away the gun. I throw in a punch as hard as I can, bloodying my own knuckles.

"You'll fucking pay for this," she says as blood trickles down her nose. She kicks me hard right in the stomach and I spit out blood, coughing and gasping.

"How much?" I smirk, as the red liquid fills up my mouth.

I'm already lightheaded, losing my balance quicker than I'd like. My vision is going in and out, disrupting my thought process. There's no way I'll make it out of here alive. This lady is trained for this and I only made it up until the greenbelt in karate years ago. I should've just stayed and finished until black belt, I think to myself, feeling regretful.

"You could've taken the easy the way out, but you've just made it 10x worst for yourself," the woman says as stares at the gun laying on the ground beside me.

She jumps towards the gun, but I kick it with my feet, flinging it across the room. Instead, I manage to pierce her arm with the knife, sinking it in halfway. She screams in utter agony but manages to grab the knife from my hand.

"Shit," I mutter. The handle is soaking in blood, making it easier for her to take it from me. She manages to slash the knife across my arm, making me stumble back. Both of us are heavily injured, yet I'm the one who's acting like I'm on death's doorstep while she looks like she merely got a papercut.

Suddenly, I lose balance and trip over my own feet, landing on the floor against the wardrobe. I look down to see I'm drenched in blood, it's hard to distinguish whether it's my own blood or hers. My body is finally giving out, adrenaline is leaking out of my body as the pain from my wounds replaces the lack of feeling. My vision is going in and out, my mouth feels numb and dry, and my lungs struggle to inhale oxygen without the feeling of my ribcage breaking apart.

This is it. This is the end for me. I begin to close my eyes as I see the woman coming towards me with the knife in her hand until a loud gunshot jolts my eyes open.

I try to focus my eyes by squinting and realize... "Marcus...?" I call out weakly. He doesn't look at me, his eyes are focused on the woman on the ground as his gun is still pointing at her. The veins on his arms are defined because of the hard grip he has on the handle of his gun. The woman on the floor is writhing and squirming in pain from Marcus's shot. He shoots again, this time aiming at her arm. Again, this time at her leg. I watch in horror as enough blood pools around her for it to slowly cover the room floor.

"Marcus, stop it," my voice comes out shaky but loud enough for him to hear. He doesn't even flinch at my words, it's almost like I'm not even in the room.

Another shot goes off, this time he aims for her stomach and then he aims for her head. Her body stops moving—she's dead, I say to myself—yet he won't stop until he empties out his rounds. Her lifeless body flails every time he takes a shot, making me wince. Marcus is seeing red, his eyes are dark, his expression more murderous than cold.

I cover my ears, I can't take it, I can't take it anymore. But my desperate pleas fall on deaf ears. I drag myself across, pushing my knees against the blood-drenched floor to reach him. Once I reach him, I pull on the hem of his pants slightly, "Marcus, please stop."

He whips his head to look down at me, his expression is cold and lifeless, yet there's a vicious and maddening storm brewing in them.

"You're scaring me," I say softly, letting out an audible sob. Unable to hold me up any longer, I lean on his leg for support.

He quickly drops down and picks me up to place me on his lap. He places an arm under my head and uses the other hand to push away the loose strands of hair away from my face. His eyes softened up as if the sight of my state snapped him back to reality. "Yasmeen, hold on, please. I called for help, please hold on."

- - -

Zara's in for a ride while Yasmeen's relationship is going 📈📉📈📉! LMAO!

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