You may have stolen me
- Locked due to inactivity on Nov 26, '22 3:54am
Thread Topic: You may have stolen me
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Dahlia's emotions were a mix of hopeful and terrified after the man left. She didn't like Nickola that much, but she REALLY didn't like this guy. Maybe if he made it to her in time, she could live her own life like she'd planned. She scooted her chair toward the door, wondering if anyone would hear her if she screamed.
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Nickola himself was leading the attack. Under normal circumstances, he would simply hand it off to one of his men to take care of. But these were not normal circumstances. This involved Dahlia. The woman he loved was in danger and he was not going to let that slide.
There in front of Nickola was Ivan, the man that had taken her away.
"Where is she?" he asked.
Ivan let a small smile grow on his face.
"WHERE IS SHE?!"
"I have no reason to tell you," Ivan said, reveling in the fact that he had unsettled Nickola to no ends.
Nickola pointed his gun at him. "Would you like to die where you stand?" he asked in a low, threatening voice.
"You kill me, you kill Dahlia," Ivan said. "There's a bomb hidden in the walls of the room she's in. And the activator is attached to my pulse."
Nickola clenched his jaw before eventually asking, "What do you want?"
Ivan's smile grew, knowing he had won. -
Dahlia began to twist at her restraints, trying to get them looser. The rope grated against her skin, causing her to bleed a little. She winced as it cut into her wrists, but it would be worth it if she could get out.
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Nickola signed the papers with an irritated sigh. He was losing a lot with this. But the thought of Dahlia safe from Ivan was worth it.
He set the pen down without a sound and sent a bone-chilling glare at Ivan. "Take me to her," he said.
It wasn't long after that that the door to Dahlia's concrete prison opened. Nickola immediately stalked inside, unsheathing a knife. He went behind her and cut her bonds, then back forward again, cutting the ones tying her ankles to the chair. -
Dahlia turned her face from him, her cheeks burning from shame. She looked and felt so helpless. She was the independent woman who had carved out her own life, who did everything on her own and figured it out by herself. Yet here she was, being saved like a damsel in distress. She was grateful but absolutely mortified at the same time.
She rubbed her wrists, wincing as her fingers brushed against her tender wounds. She tried to stand but lost her balance, her legs feeling like noodles. She supported herself against the wall and tried again, sturdier this time. "Thank you," she said quietly. -
Nickola nodded, then turned to Ivan. "Would you be a gentleman and show us the door?" he said.
"Of course," Ivan said, feigning genuine courtesy.
Soon, they were at the front door and Nickola and Dahlia were walking out onto the stone front steps.
"Nickola, there's one thing I forgot," Ivan said.
The Italian man stopped walking, but didn't turn around. "Oh?"
"Yes, you might be very interested in it."
There was a pause. Suddenly Nickola spun around while at the same time unholstering his gun, and before Ivan could react, he shot him straight in the heart.
"Now," Nickola said to Dahlia, "let's get out of here, shall we?" -
Dahlia stifled a scream, her hands clapped over her mouth. Blood pooled around Ivan, dark and red. She let her hands drop, balling her hands into fists and squinting her eyes shut before opening them. "Nickola, you just killed someone."
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"Kill or be killed," he replied simply. "Now let's go before more come and we get killed."
Whether she liked it or not, he grabbed her arm and walked her to one out of many black vans. There were others, presumably Nickola's men, who were loading themselves up into these vehicles. -
Dahlia stiffened when he touched her, close to jerking her arm out of his grasp. It might be a bit ungrateful, but he had freaked her out. How many times had he shot a gun before? The precision, the speed...he must have done it hundreds of times. Had any of his targets been people?
She tried to tug out of his grasp, but his strength was greater than her own. "Let me go, Nickola," she ordered. "I'm going home." -
"Actually, you're not," Nickola said. "This was just the beginning, there will be more after you, and none will be as kind as Ivan was. It's dangerous for men like me to have connections to people from the outside world, and even more dangerous for you. So if you value your life, and I know you do, you'll come with me."
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"You're the reason I got into this in the first place!" Dahlia snapped in distress, trying to wrench her arm out of his grasp. "You can't just kidnap me! Take me to the police or something, they'll find a way to keep me safe."
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Nickola let out an exasperated sigh before shouting, "Marco! Cloroformio!" He knew that Dahlia would be able to know what he was saying, so he grabbed her other arm, holding her in front of her so she wouldn't be able to struggle as much as Marco started coming towards them with a rag and a little white bottle.
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Dahlia's eyes widened in shock when she saw Marco approaching ominously. She stamped down on Nickola's foot, twisting her heel around to cause as much pain as possible. "Let me go, you creep!"
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"AGH!" Nickola yelled. One of his hands automatically went to hold his squashed foot. How is her foot that strong?! His other hand still had Dahlia in his grip. Marco started running over to help.
It was by then that Ivan's men had discovered their leader's death. The ones that had been loyal from the beginning, that weren't following him out of fear, grabbed their guns to avenge his death. -
Dahlia took advantage of Nickola removing one arm from her wrist and wound back before aiming a painful slap at his face. Punching might break her knuckles, but she certainly could cause plenty of pain with a well aimed smack. "Get. Away!"
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