STELLA
Last night, all I wanted to do was disappear. After making a call to my security to take me to the airport, I packed hurriedly, tears blurring my vision the entire time. I opened the door and nearly fell over running into Jack, who looked just as stunned as I, even though he was the one who was in front of my door.
“Hey. I saw Antonio head down to the bar. Is everything okay?” He studied my face, and I tried my best to hide it— the chest pain, puffy eyes, red face, and shaking hands.
“I’m leaving.” I pushed past him, but he followed me.
“Do you want me to drive you to the airport?”
“No. My security can do that.” I sniffed as we entered the elevator.
“Well, you can take my company jet. The only one at the airport is Antonio’s.” I thought about it for a second, realizing he was right. I couldn’t just leave him stranded, and I was not about to fly on a commercial plane.
“Fine.” I agreed, and then we met my security outside. Alk insisted on driving us. Which, looking back, may have been the first mistake… well, that and having sex with someone who had already decided how they felt about me. Clearly, I’m just a piece in Antonio’s game. Why else would he have bolted the second he got what he wanted?
So, we drove into the night. It was dark and hard to see anything outside except for the occasional palm tree reaching for black velvet skies covered with clouds. Maybe the next sign, I should jump out of the car and run. But I don’t. I was filled with sadness, still am. Jack pressed against my side, forcing jokes that keep failing because no one is in a talking mood.
Thunder boomed, but there was no rain. I don’t think I remember seeing lightning, and then the car stopped. Alk got out, and I craned my neck around the passenger seat to see what the headlights were pointing at. A tall man in a black suit, fiery red hair, chilled pale features, and a .22 caliber pointed at Alk’s head. He raised his hands as they spoke quickly to one another. I heard the guns click throughout the car like a symphony of tiny bells, gearing up for a fight that never happened because we had already lost. A tap on the window informed me we were surrounded by men with guns. Jack was the first to speak.
“That’s Agent Fine.” He gritted his teeth, glaring furiously at him. “I’m gonna go talk to him.”
“No!” I grabbed his arm, but he wouldn’t listen. He climbed to the front seat, opened the driver's side door, and all heads outside the car turned to him.
“Evening.” I heard him say through a smile as he closed the door. What the fuck was he thinking? I remember thinking he’s either fearless or dumb, maybe a bit of both. They chatted for a second tops, and then Agent Fine lunged at him, threw him into a big man with a gun who held him up as Agent Fine grabbed his shoulders and kneed him in the gut.
“Stop!” I yelled from inside the car, but my security in the back seat covered my mouth. A little too late because they were already carrying off Jack and throwing him in their vehicle as Agent Fine headed straight to my door. He opened it, gun still cocked straight at me, as he held out a cold hand for me to take. No one shot at him, no one dared make a move against him with a gun pointed straight at me. I touched his hand, and my whole body froze in fear as I jumped out of the car and down to the dirt road. He led me to the center, where both headlights met.
“Stella, I’m sorry.” The moment Alk whispered this, I knew he had done something.
“No need to apologize, Alk. You played your part well.” Agent Fine answered, smiling so sinisterly that it twisted the knife already plunged into my back from such a betrayal. I didn’t know what to feel because I was still confused, still suspended in utter disbelief. Broken like I was when I lost my real father.
“I’m sorry, Princess. They have my family and threatened to kill them if I didn’t break you and Antonio up.”
“I’m your family.” My lip quivered, and he shook his head.
“I know, but my wife and son—“ I raised my hand for him to stop.
“Don’t, I get it.” I didn’t get it. Still don't. I felt betrayed, but how could I hate him for doing what it took to save his family? I know I’m not his real daughter, but I always thought he saw me that way. Now I know the truth. I was simply his boss.
“So understanding,” Agent Fine gripped my chin between his ice fingers, and I ripped it away, whipping my head out of his hand. “And fiery.” He chuckled, and I wanted to slap him or punch his throat, so he couldn’t speak for a week. But he signaled his men to grab me, and I was unable to do anything to fight them off. They picked me up and carried me to the car behind the one they threw Jack into.
I kicked and screamed for Alk. I was purely instinctual because why would I call for my betrayer? I think it’s because I still care for him. Though he made the worst decision, failed at the only job he had, to protect me… I know a thing or two about doing whatever it takes to keep your family safe.
The last thing I saw before the men tossed me into the back of the car was Agent Fine, pointing a gun to Alk’s head.
“No!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, garnering whatever strength I had left to hold on to the top of the car, preventing them from shoving me the rest of the way.
“Alk!” I could hear myself screaming. Curdled, piercing, helpless.
“Alk!” I continued to scream until my voice was strained, and I could no longer fight the men using their might to shove me into the car. The moment I let go, the moment I fell to the floor of the car, I heard the gunshot. And when I thought my voice was gone, I surprised myself, screaming so ferociously it made my vision blurry. I couldn't bring myself to try to look at the Russians loaded in the car. Couldn't bear to see the one person who truly knew me, crumpled to the ground, lifeless, nothing.
It was like one of those nightmares where no matter how hard you run or how loudly you scream, you can’t escape it. A spiral of darkness in which the escape feels like drowning in syrup. I was choking on my screams when the car backed out of the dirt path and whipped around to take off in the opposite direction. When my lungs could no longer sustain my rasped screams, tears were the only thing left. And they were constant, streaming from my eyes to the scratched car floor until my forehead dropped, and I passed out from the weight of my sadness.
Now I’m somewhere I don’t recognize. Blue painted walls, the sound of the ocean close enough that we may be right on the water. A boathouse of some sort. There are only a couple white wood chairs sparsely placed across the span of the room with creaky wood floors that look so old they may fall apart. I hear a seagull in the distance, and I search through the window for it, but I’m stuck to my chair with zip ties.
The lock on the door to my left wriggles, and I snap my neck to it, waiting for someone I know to walk through the door and save me. But no one is coming for me. Antonio thinks I’ve left; Alk is probably dead. Tears well up in my eyes, and I blink them away because the last thing I need is my enemies to think that I’m anything but fierce.
“Stella.” A Russian accent thicker than most steps through the door. His long chin and pointed brows send shivers down my spine.