"I don't do shit halfway, sweetheart. You step in my flames, you'll burn to ashes!"
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The Kings of the underworld are in a bit of a predicament; their rule over the city is challenged as an old enemy...
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And here you come with a shield for a heart and a sword for a tongue ~ Medusa, Carol AnnDuffy ___________________
Marcella's eyelids flutter open, her vision blurred as she tries to make sense of her surroundings. As her eyes adjust to the dim lighting, she realized she was in a dark and foreboding bedroom, the air heavy with an aura of danger.
The room was adorned with opulent furnishings, but their elegance tainted by an underlying sense of menace. The walls were draped in deep, velvety curtains, their black color adding to the room's sinister ambiance. The flickering light of a single candelabra casts elongated shadows, dancing ominously across the ornate wallpaper. The scent of aged leather and cigar smoke lingered in the air, a reminder of the room's occupant.
Marcella's gaze shifted to the imposing mahogany bed she was lying in, its intricately carved headboard looming like a silent sentinel. The sheets, a stark contrast to the darkness of the room, were a crisp white, hinting at a meticulousness that belies the chaos that often surrounds the mafia lord.
As Marcella tried to sit up, her body felt heavy and weak, her head throbbing with a dull ache. Panic started to rise as she recalled the events of last night. The room's oppressive atmosphere weighs on her, the knowledge of Agust D's presence sending a chill down her spine. She might not know where she was, but she would bet this place belongs to Agust D.
Once more she scanned the room for an exit, her eyes landing on a heavy, iron-barred window. But hope quickly faded as she realized the futility of escaping the house. The room was a fortress, designed to keep intruders out and prisoners in. But even if she could escape this room, she couldn't dream of slipping out of his clutches when the entire world bowed down to the sound of his name.
Marcella's heart started to pound faster in her chest as she realized the gravity of her situation. Trapped in this dark bedroom, at the mercy of a feared mafia lord, she knew that her only hope lied in finding a way to outsmart her captor and not in escaping him.
It took her some time to notice the IV bag hanging above her head, its translucent tube snaking its way down to her arm. The sight sends a shiver down her spine, and she can't help but wonder what had happened to her. Why she would lose her senses like that?
The heavy door creaks open, startling her awake from her musing, revealing the imposing figure of none other than Agust D. His presence filled the room, his cold gaze fixed upon Marcella as he stepped forward, his footsteps echoing ominously against the polished floors.
Marcella mustered the courage to speak, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and confusion.
"What happened to me?" she asked.
Agust D's expression remained impassive, his voice laced with a hint of annoyance.
"You fainted," he stated matter-of-factly, his words cutting through the air like shards of ice. "Your negligence towards your own well-being led to this."
