Amelia sat on her bed, overwhelmed by the complete silence of the room after the disturbing encounter last night. Her mind was in turmoil with inconsistent tides of feelings. The image of Enzo with someone else, the intensity of his touches, and how his eyes seemed to pierce through her almost like installing an essence of terror and strangely captivating her-everything seemed to swirl in her mind like a storm she could not get away from.
She did not know why she felt this way. Part of her screamed for distance-to stay away from Enzo, to place a wall between them. But another part, buried deeper, was drawn to him-to the danger he seemed to embody. How easily he could make her feel this way actually enraged her-how at his one look, one touch, he so easily controlled her.
I must get a grip, she told herself, rubbing her eyes as if that would somehow clear her thoughts. I have got to stop letting this get to me. I must focus on myself, not him.
But it was then that she thought this, footsteps could be heard down the hall, stopping her thoughts cold. Her body tensed, muscles tightly locked. The footsteps grew louder, and she could distinctly hear men's voices—low and gruff, their words indistinct but full of authority.
The door to her room flew open and in came a batch of men. Amelia's eyes went wide as she instinctively rose to her feet, her heart beating a lot faster. She had seen them around, always in the shadows, never far from Enzo. These were the men working for him, his gang members, his power.
They were five in number and tall and formidable, each carrying in his wake the air of danger that seemed to hang around Enzo like a cloak. Black-suited, their faces impassive, their eyes moved unendingly around the room as they stepped inside. The apparent leader of this group, a man with dark, closely-cropped hair and a scar running down the left side of his face, looked at her with a sharp glance which twisted her stomach.
Amelia, right?" The man's voice was rough, like gravel rubbing against gravel. His eyes were cold, appraising, weighing her value.
Amelia nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She didn't know if she should feel scared or stand up to them. She had no idea what they wanted, but she couldn't show them her fear. Not now.
"Where is Enzo?" he asked, still cold but laced with an edge of authority. "We need to speak to him."
Amelia had to hesitate for a second. "I don't know," she said honestly, though a part of her did not want to admit it. As a matter of fact, she wasn't even certain that Enzo had told her anything about where he was going and when he would be back.
The man narrowed his eyes-so he didn't believe her-but he didn't press further. Instead, he turned to his gang members and muttered under his breath. They exchanged glances, their faces unreadable. Amelia did not know whether to turn around and leave or stay, but some part of her was sure that if she left now, they would think of her as weak, somebody who did not fit in.
The scarred man stepped further into the room, his footsteps heavy on the floor. "It is all right, Amelia. We are not here to hurt you," he lied, though his words barely shifted a fraction of an inch of doubt from her mind. "But you have to know, the Master has many enemies. His business isn't clean, and the game he plays is dangerous. Don't think you can just walk away from it." He broke off, eyes coming into sharp focus. "You are now tied to him, whether you like it or not."
Amelia's breath solidified in her throat. Tied to him? The words seemed to beat again and again in her brain, some sort of ominous mantra. She had not chosen this life. She had not asked to be dragged into this dark world of power, so easily controlled by Enzo. She had come here for escape, for freedom, and yet it would appear that no matter how far she ran, there was no escaping the shadow of Enzo and his gang.
The scarred man seemed to sense her unease and smirked, his eyes glinting with something dark. "You're new to all of this, I can tell. But you'll learn quickly enough. You'll see what happens when you cross the line." His voice dropped to a whisper now, though his words were sharp, each one cutting through the air. "You might think you're safe here, Amelia. You might think that the Master will protect you. But he won't always be there. He doesn't care about anyone but himself."
Amelia felt a shiver run down her spine. She didn't know what to say; she didn't know how to respond to him. The concept that Enzo could be so cold, toss people aside when they weren't useful anymore, made her ill in the pit of her stomach. But again and again, even with the fear churning in her gut, that strange pull, that attraction to the power that he could possess, would not be denied.
The gang members did not seem interested in further conversation, their full attention fixed on scanning the room for something that was quite definitely not there. The air had become so thick, so suffocating. Amelia felt she could just about suffocate under the weight of their presence-like wolves circling, waiting for the right moment to strike.
One of them, a tall, dark man with crazy-appearing hair, turned to Amelia and smirked. "It's funny isn't it?" he said with a grin in his voice. "Things we do for power. For control. You can act like that all you want but in the end, everyone does the same thing. You'll see. You'll all see.
Amelia didn't say a word. She had nothing to say. Her mind was in a whirlwind of thoughts, convoluting them all. She had wanted to ask what they had meant and why they were here, what their purpose was, but she didn't trust them enough, not even for that question. All she knew was that they were dangerous, and they connected to Enzo. That much was apparent.
After a few more moments of tense silence, the scar-faced man spoke again. "We leave you to your thoughts for the time being. But do not get too comfortable, Amelia. You're in our world now. And the rules are different here."
With that said, they turned and vanished from the room, their footsteps growing more muffled with every second. Amelia did not move from that spot, her mind still reeling from what had just transpired. She had more questions than answers, and the weight of their words hung heavy in the air.
Tied to him, she thought as the realization set in. I'm now tied with Enzo, whether I like it or not.
Cold, empty-thoughts were leaving her side. She didn't know what to do, how to get out of this world if at all possible. But one thing was for certain: she was no longer just a spectator in Enzo's dangerous game but a player, whether she wanted to be or not.
As she leaned back into the bed, the stillness in the room was as though it choked her. Amelia did not know what might be ahead but knew whatever that would be, it would be far from what she could ever have imagined.