◽SERENDIPITY OR CATASTROPHE◽
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◽MARIAN'S POV◽
"Would you like to come with me to the club?" Farian asked with a smug smile. "Do I want to come with you to the club?" I teased back.
After a hectic day of high school, we were desperate for a break. With my sister's ID in hand, passing as older was a breeze. Our ginger locks, covering half of our faces, provided a convincing disguise.
We look so alike without close inspection
"Great, let me buy our tickets online," I said eagerly. We were adventurous students, not rebels. By choosing a club with high security and ensuring one of us stayed sober, we felt confident navigating the nightlife scene at seventeen.
With two hours until the end of school, I couldn't contain my excitement. My parents still believed I was at an after-school club, a lie made easy by my involvement in many extracurricular activities.
Farian provided the perfect alibi, it wasn't hard to make up an assignment we were never assigned, and it was easy to get her parents involved as her dad was as cool as a cucumber, as long as we FaceTimed him two hours out of the three hours.
As the clock struck 12:59, I began the countdown.
The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Gleefully, I shoved my books into my bag, eager to leave school behind.
Reunited with my friends, we greeted each other with squeals of excitement, drawing attention from nearby students. Forming a line, we walked hand in hand. "Oh my God, have you seen the new boy?" Farian gushed, squealing as we refused to make way for incoming students.
"Yeah, oh my Gosh, he's like a character from a dark romance novel," Angel replied, shaking my head at her wild fantasy. To me, the guy was just okay, exuding a dark vibe, but I couldn't define the appeal they felt.
We all brought something unique to the group. Addy was the nerdy redhead, Lauren defied cheerleader stereotypes with her kindness, Farian immersed herself in the world of boy love, and Angel is the dark romance freak, despite her life defying her book interests.
Arriving at Farian's house, our 'not so secret' hideout, we eagerly changed into our clubbing outfits. As I put on my lace-trimmed top adorned with a chain belt, with my leather short that really showed off my ass, satisfied with my choice of outfit, I couldn't help but smile at the prospect of the night ahead.
Arriving at the club a little late to blend in with the crowd, each of us with a fake ID in hand, the bouncer looked through them without suspicion. I gave a small smile, scurrying in with my friends who had already made it in successfully.
They dispersed, each heading to do what they enjoyed doing.
Angel went to the bar, eyeing the bartender she called her hot new main character. Whenever she is writing one of her deranged new stories, she fully immerse herself in that lifestyle, ensuring every detail was accurate.
Farian was just with her gay friends that partied every other night, Addy dancing the night away all by herself like some crazy lady.
Laurel on the other hand had gone to her 'club boyfriend' immediately we got here and I just sat in the corner sipping on my Pina colada. Honestly, I knew I was going to be the mother hen. I never really drank when we came out; I just came to dance and make sure my friends didn't end up in trouble the next day.
I watched as Angel flirted with passion. The bartender was cute, but not someone I would go for. I never really thought about my type before, but I liked pretty guys with a strong build. You know what, screw it, I had a type.
I glanced at the sea of bodies dancing their hearts out to the ear-drum bursting music, smiling at my friends who waved at me. I scowled at the guy next to me who took a puff of his cigarette and blew it right in my face.
Coughing, I'd had enough. I rummaged through my bag for my inhaler, feeling my hand brush against it. I could pass out at any second; I needed it desperately. Finally locating it, I took a generous drag, which calmed me down.
Just as I caught my breath, the music stopped playing. The room filled with drunk people complaining. I looked around, confused by what happened. Suddenly, people started screaming, and chaos ensued.
Concerned for the safety of my friends, I looked around for them but couldn't find any. I couldn't afford to panic; I didn't want to trigger my symptoms. I couldn't figure out what was happening. I stood up, heading towards the exit, but someone stopped me.
He held what seemed like a picture up to my face before pulling me towards him. I screamed, scared and panicking again.
I didn't know what was happening. The man holding me called out to someone, and another guy opened the door. Everyone rushed out in a hurry. I was being held, but I was still so worried about my friend who already had too much to drink. They probably had no idea what was happening and were caught in the middle of this terrible mind fuck.
Unable to control what was going on, my symptoms flared up again, and darkness engulfed me.
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◽◽◽◽
◽THIRD PERSON'S POV◽
"You're an Angelini?" The intensity in the guy's gaze caught Marian off guard. Could this be a Mafia encounter? All those dark tales Angel had shared suddenly felt more real than her fictional imaginings. She had often dismissed her friend's obsession with dark romance novels as mere fantasy, but now, faced with the puzzled guy in front of her, annoyance evident in his furrowed brow, she couldn't help but wonder.
"It seems you're not the girl in this picture," he groaned in frustration once more.
"Who made this mistake?" he demanded angrily, his eyes flashing with rage. Marian remained unfazed. After all, she was the one who had been kidnapped. She couldn't understand why she was expected to stay calm while he seemed on the verge of a breakdown.
He reached for a button on his desk, pressing his temple with his other hand. "Come here now."
As they stood there, each with their own concerns, it was clear they were not on the same page. One was annoyed at having abducted the wrong sister, while the other was grappling with the realization that every Mafia story she had ever heard might be true.
The person standing before her was Marco, the youngest Angelini, known for his ruthlessness in handling business matters. "How did I get here again?" Marian asked, feeling like she was trapped in a surreal nightmare. "Am I going to die?" She kept asking rhetorical questions, which Marco found irritating. He despised chatter, especially when he needed to think. "Silent!" he snapped, but Marian continued her stream of consciousness.
"Yes, I agreed to go to the club like we do every Friday. Oh, good lord, I'm dead," she muttered to herself, resigned to her fate.
Even if she wanted to stop herself from rambling, it was her coping mechanism. She couldn't help but babble whenever she found herself in a predicament.
She looked up at Marco. "Are you going to kill me, slowly and painfully?" she asked, not showing a hint of fear. She was the type to face reality head-on and assess the situation immediately upon finding herself in a trap.
"I need you to answer. If you're not going to kill me, I should keep calm because my heart is racing a mile a minute," she rambled on, hoping Marco would say something.
"Didn't you hear me tell you to shut up?" Marco snapped. "Yes, I heard, but I can't stop myself from rambling whenever I'm in potential danger," Marian explained. "And I am sure I'm in danger."
Marco was done with her. He was annoyed that he had to deal with a high schooler who knew nothing about keeping quiet. Yet, he found her boldness intriguing. She hadn't shed a single tear since she had being taken. Instead, she was rationalizing everything and studying everyone around her.
"Whatever you think I did, I didn't do it," Marian insisted. "I've never been involved in any crime in my whole life." She took a deep breath, about to start negotiating. "I don't know why you kidnapped me, but I'm getting something out of this. I must have been mistaken for my sister," she snapped her fingers. "You must have thought I was Mathilda." It all made sense now.
Marco was intrigued by her. She had processed everything so quickly and was totally right about it all. It came as a surprise to him. Most students were foolish, but this was the first time someone hadn't been squealing like an animal caught in a trap in front of him. She was just so bold.
"So, I know you can't kill me," she concluded. "Good. I'm safe for now," she nodded to herself.
Now interested in Marco, Marian couldn't help but notice how tall and handsome he was. "Usually, I thought Mafia bosses were potbellied short devils, but you are tall and handsome, devilishly handsome," she remarked, studying his features. Marco was shocked, to say the least. He was beginning to find her chatter interesting.
She had just gone through a traumatic experience, yet she still noticed how handsome he was and, better still, had the guts to say it to him.
"Look at your features. My, it's been a long time since I've seen such a beautiful person. You know, for being a Mafia boss, you don't look rough around the edges. You just look like a normal adult," she walked closer to him. "A normal supermodel adult." Marco chuckled. "How old are you, Mr. Angelini? If I guess from what my friends have told me, you're probably around 36 years old, am I right?" She wasn't even close.
"I'm 25," Marco answered, finding it amusing and irritating that she hasn't stopped talking. "So tell me, Marian, how old are you?" She was surprised he asked. She was a very good liar, someone quick on her feet. She didn't need to think before coming up with a quick answer, and she could lie without batting an eyelash.
"Eighteen," she replied. "You said that so quickly, as if you were expecting that question," he observed. Yes, she was a good liar, but Marco could read people like an open book. It was one of the reasons he was the next in line instead of his older cousin.
"Technically, I'm not lying. I would be eighteen in a month's time," she said, walking around his office as if she owned the place. Marco couldn't help but chuckle. "You have no fear," he remarked.
"Yeah, right. I'm shaking right now," she deadpanned. She was being serious, but she sounded so sarcastic. Marco took menacing steps towards her.
"What are you doing?" she squinted, not finding him menacing. "Come and get her out. Put her in the guest room," Marco instructed over the phone. The guest room? Weren't they supposed to just let her go when she was the wrong person?
"Why are you putting me in the 'guest room'? You're supposed to send me back home. My parents are going to be really worried. I've been here for more than five hours, and you've taken my phone and everything," she started hyperventilating.
"Are you okay?" Marco asked, concerned. She started gasping for air, holding her chest as she tried to call for help. "Inhaler," she rushed out. "You're asthmatic?" he rushed to her.
Such a hassle, he thought
He had to have a teenager in the house, the mansion is big enough for them to never see if he just throws her in the other side of the building which was the staff quarter, but this girl is an hostage he can never let go, her sister had eloped with the file that contained informations that contained the biggest treats to their mafiosa
He beeped his right hand man to bring in the girl's bag, it was strange for a girl to have a big bag in the club, her bag was big enough to fit a new born baby
Martini brought the bag in a hurry, emptying the content on the glass table, he handed it to Marian who took a drag in a hurry
As soon as she caught her breath she ran to Marco holding on to his dress shirt "you can't hold me in here, I have drugs at home that I need to take" Marco with no pity, pulled her hand off his cloth, she stumbles backward earning a disagreeing grunt from Martini
Martini gently took Marian out, showing her into a guest room, Marian was trying her best not to break down, she sat without saying another word
She was defeated, maybe it was the seizure she had just had, she just wanted to stay alone
The room felt big, but as soon as Martini closed the door, locking her in there, she felt the walls shifting in, she hugged her leg shaking uncontrollably as if just weighing the gravity of the situation, she felt claustrophobic as she screamed silently
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