Secrets Leave Scars [EDITING]

21 - Taken

I rush directly to the bathroom, attempting to catch my breath. I burst through the doors and lean on the enormous sink. My mind swirls with thoughts, taking over me completely.

"What just happened? What am I doing? Why did he dance with me? Did he wanna kiss me as badly as I wanted to kiss him? Why did I even want to kiss him? He's the enemy. I did all of this for the mission not for me. Right?" More and more questions appear in my mind as I stare at my reflection in the mirror.

The longing to get in touch with anyone who knew my true identity, grows, feeling stronger than ever. I pace back and forth anxiously, not sure what to do next. Everyone in that room saw it too. I dread going back out, pretending everything's fine...

My soul leaves my body when I hear a stall creak behind me. I jolt around but no one's there. "Great and now I'm hearing things," I grunt to myself.

I rest my elbows on the sink, hands placed on my forehead. Suddenly, a loud noise echoes.

I crouch to the ground, bracing myself for an attack. Two men in dark suits burst out from behind the stall door.

The tattooed one lunges at me, carrying a giant butcher knife. I dodge him strategically and smash his face into the floor. I hear the crack of his nose as it breaks, but that doesn't keep him down.

He reaches behind his back, my hand still holding his head to the floor. I lodge my elbow deep into his back as the other man approaches me. I swiftly sweep kick him, tripping him slightly but not enough. He's still standing upright, towering over me.

I pull my first pocketknife from it's holster, stabbing the tattooed man in the back. The other lunges forward and I quickly elbow him in the face.

Blood trickles from his nose as he grabs roughly onto my hand. I knee him in the gut before biting him. He roars in pain and I rush to the other side of the bathroom, desperate to get away.

The second man catches up to me before I reach the door. He holds my hands up above my head. I grunt angrily, trying to break free.

I kick his balls and jump onto the sink. The second pocketknife hidden in my holster is larger. I whip it out planning to jump on him as I stab.

The pocketknife doesn't leave my hand, as the tattooed man rises, still groaning in pain. He launches the butcher knife at me with great precision. It flies past my head, piercing the mirror behind me.

The shattered pieces of glass cut me as they scatter across the bathroom. The other man grabs me roughly, holding onto my mouth so I can't scream. I squirm, trying to break free but it's no use.

"Get the tranquilizer you idiot," he grunts. My heart freezes when I hear his voice. He spoke with a deep Russian accent.

These are Ivan Lukin's men.

Marcus's POV:

Her leg slowly falls, her eyes still locked strongly on mine. My breathing slows as the background noise quietly rushes back in.

I clear my throat, releasing my grip on her. She backs away slowly, unsure of what to do. Neither of us blink. I hear Kol whistle loudly, followed by laughter, snapping me out of her trance.

We both look away, uncomfortably. She tugs on her dress a little before rushing away. My eyes follow her up the elegant stairway, as she disappears behind the bathroom door. I feel a strong grip on my shoulder and I slowly turn around.

My father stands behind me, an angry look on his face. "Who the h*ll is that?" He spits. I let out a deep sigh, allowing the real world back in.

"She's nobody," I growl, walking to a nearby table. "What do you want?"

"I want to know who she is," he growls back, tugging at my arm. My guards quickly rush to my side, and my father reluctantly drops my arm. "Do you care about her?" He continues pushing.

"I barely know her," I snarl back, my temper growing. "Everyone danced it's nothing."

"Every single member of every single mafia is here tonight," he continues, "they all just saw that little exchange you and 'nothing' had. Our enemies will try and use her against you."

"MY enemies," I clarify, grabbing onto his collar. "You aren't apart of this mafia, not anymore. Now get the f*ck out of my face." I release his collar, pushing him back harshly.

The guards yank him away, pulling him towards the exit. His screaming gets louder as he rambles on about his legacy.

I take the cigar from my pocket and light it gracefully. I inhale the smoke and let it calm me, while I take a seat at the neatly decorated table.

"A beautiful performance that was huh?" An evil voice rings in my ears. The horrendous accent immediately tells me it's Ivan.

He pulls out a chair in front of me, a wide grin plastered across his wrinkled face. I stare back at him blankly, continuing to smoke my cigar.

Two guards wearing dark black masks follow closely behind him. I subtly place my hand over the gun I hid in my suit. "What the h*ll do you want?" I grunt, attempting to appear unbothered.

He chuckles. "Oh it's simple really," he continues. "I want you dead." The sadistic smile on his face grows as I sit up. I rest my elbows on my knees and lean forward.

"So you thought you would ask nicely?" I reply sarcastically. I find pleasure as he squirms in his chair, the smile leaving his lips. I sit back in my chair and drag another breath of the cigar in my hand.

"Truth be told I was actually just distracting you," he shrugs, rising from his chair. My mind scurries anxiously, but my face doesn't show it. My hand wanders back to the gun in my coat as I rise to meet him. I move my face closer to his, challenging him.

He clears his throat before whispering into my ear, "While you were here arguing with daddy dearest, your pretty little recruit was getting beat to a pulp."

His words terrify me. There's no way he had Isobel. I calmly excuse myself, pushing past the bastard in front of me. I swiftly make my way to the bathrooms, attempting to hide the panic I feel in my chest.

I burst through the doors and freeze at the sight. Blood covered the floors, along with shards of glass. A large butcher knife is lodged through the mirror, and Isobel is nowhere in sight.

My breathing intensifies as the rage inside me grows. My eyes dart around the room, searching for who might've taken her. Ivan and his men are gone, along with her.

I slam the bathroom door shut, racing down the long staircase. Pushing through the crowds of people, I make my way to the table filled with my recruits and members.

"Speaking of my lovely date who had more fun dancing with Isobel than me," Ivy coughs, laughing. I brush off the remark, too angry to focus on anything else.

"There's a problem, get out your weapons," I grunt. "Isobel's been taken."