Fatale

A Confrontation

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Scrambling off the bed, I am about to run out of the room when Marco grabs my arm. 

"Might wanna put on some pants, love." I look down at my bare legs, and nod, grabbing the old pair of sweatpants that still hang off of a nearby chair, tightening and knotting them as much as I can. 

"Thiago, what's going on?" Marco asks as he opens his closet, kneeling down to open a large safe inside. 

"A group of men is here, sir. We don't know what they want. A woman is with them." Marco nods, and continues to work. 

"Do we know who they are, who she is?" Marco asks.

"No, sir. But they are claiming responsibility for the incident at the club." Thiago responds, darkly.  

"Shit." Marco whispers to himself, straightening up and throwing on a t-shirt from the closet. 

He walks up to me, grabbing my hand. 

"I want you to stay behind me, okay? Only come out when I tell you to." I nod to him, understanding. The thought of seeing the men from the club makes a shiver run down my spine, fuzzing my mind for a moment. 

I follow Marco and Thiago, who I now recognize as one of the men who helped carry Fiona out of the club, down the hallway, and I stay a few steps behind as they descend the stairs. I only go halfway down, crouching to conceal myself behind the banister. 

I peek through the gaps of the silver rods, and see a group of men as Thiago said, dressed in black suits, and a woman in large sunglasses, standing at the front. 

Something about the way she stands resonates with my memory, but I can't place it. 

Marco's father, Hector Bianchi, steps forward towards the woman, puffing out his chest. 

"Who the hell do you think you are, coming here?" He barks, his voice echoing against the walls around him. 

He seems to recognize the woman, but not in an entirely friendly way. 

"I came here at the request of Cristiano Rivaldi. He says that you currently have a young woman in your care that is employed by Damon Rivaldi, and he requests that you return the woman immediately." 

I creep backwards reflexively, attempting to make myself smaller and smaller. 

"She no longer works for Damon Rivaldi." Marco says coldly, moving forward to meet his father in front of the woman. 

"Ah, Marco, I haven't seen you since you were just a boy." The woman purrs. 

I'm digging through my memory, attempting to figure out how I know that voice. It's a memory deeply frozen inside, but I can't deny that her voice is so damn familiar. 

"Do not address my son, you nearly killed him last night." 

"We were only attempting to get the girl, who was meant to be at the club. It was pure coincidence that Marco was there."

"And bad luck for you, since your amateur shooters couldn't even fight back against two people with handguns." Marco scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You can feel the tension in the air, the itching of every man's hand against the trigger of the gun at their sides, so primed to fire. 

"Marco, if you just return the girl to us, there will be no trouble." 

Hector turns to his son, whispering in his ear quickly and Marco nods his head, his eyes flickering to me for a moment, something the woman doesn't miss.