Fate's Reunion

Crossroads

As Vegas arrived on the scene, his gaze darted between Pete and the imposing figure who had him cornered. His brow furrowed in curiosity, and he demanded, "What's going on here?"

The towering man, wasted no time in responding. "This rat was trying to escape using your name," he growled, his voice dripping with disdain.

But Pete wasn't about to let that man accusation slide. He interrupted, his voice tinged with frustration and pain, "I wasn't lying. Ask your dear boss. He brought me here!" His words were almost a scream, punctuated by a hiss as he touched his cheek, still throbbing from that man's blow.

As Vegas took in the scene, his eyes narrowed with suspicion as he noticed Pete's pained hiss. Turning his gaze towards that man, Vegas's voice cut through the tension like a knife, cold and commanding. "Did you hit him?" he asked, his tone devoid of emotion, yet carrying a weight of authority that brooked no defiance.

That man's excuse fell from his lips like a desperate plea for justification. "Yes, boss, he was disrespecting you," he muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of resentment and fear.

Vegas remained stoic, his gaze piercing through that man with an unsettling lack of emotion. The silence that followed was heavy with tension, each passing moment thickening the air with uncertainty. Even Pete, despite his discomfort, couldn't bring himself to break the silence.

Finally, Vegas spoke, his voice cutting through the stillness like a blade. "You may go, Bruno," he commanded, his tone as cold as ice. Bruno seemed taken aback by the dismissal, but he quickly complied, bowing slightly before scurrying away from the scene.

As Bruno's footsteps faded into the distance, the tension in the room seemed to ease slightly, though an uneasy atmosphere still lingered. Vegas turned his attention back to Pete, his expression inscrutable as he assessed the situation before him.

As Vegas's piercing gaze bore into him, Pete felt a surge of desperation welling up inside him. Breaking the suffocating silence, he pleaded, "Why are you not letting me go, Vegas? I don't want to stay here. You have no rights over me."

Vegas's response was as cold and unforgiving as the steel of a blade. "I said you can't leave. It means you can't leave, Pete."

Pete's heart sank at the finality in Vegas's tone. "Vegas, what have you become?" he implored, his voice trembling with emotion. "You were never forceful like this in the past. What are you doing now? Please, let me go. We have nothing left. I know," he choked on his words, "I know you think our past relationship is a debt that needs to be paid to me, but Vegas, I don't want anything. Just let me go. Why are you doing this?"

For a moment, Vegas remained silent, his expression unreadable. Then, with a steely resolve that sent a shiver down Pete's spine, he uttered, "I will not change my mind, Pete."

Pete's heart sank as the weight of Vegas's words settled upon him like a leaden cloak. In that moment, he realized that the man he once knew, the man he had loved, was gone - replaced by a shadow of his former self, consumed by darkness and driven by motives unknown.

Pete's screams echoed through the empty corridor, filled with a mix of anguish and frustration. "Why do you care if I die on the streets? Why do you care about anything? It's been years since you even bothered to check if I was alive or not. Then why now? Please, enjoy your new and rich life, but let me go. I don't want to be a captive."

Vegas's response was as chilling as the icy winds of winter. "You belong until I say so, and I will not let you go, not when those mafia men are after you, chasing you, Pete."

Pete's laughter rang out bitterly, his voice tinged with disbelief. "You still haven't answered my question. Why do you care?" he challenged. "And I belong here? How dare you say this? I don't belong here. I don't belong to you anymore. We are over, did you forget? Whatever we had, it was in the past. And I don't love this version of Vegas, whom I once loved, has already died. This version of you is worse, Vegas."

"Pete, you're crossing the line now," Vegas warned, his voice laced with a dangerous edge.

Pete couldn't help but laugh again, though this time it was filled with bitter irony. "I'm crossing the line? And what are you doing? Keeping someone against their will is okay?" he retorted, his words dripping with sarcasm.

"Pete!" Vegas roared, his anger palpable in every word.

But Pete refused to back down, his own voice rising to meet Vegas's with equal intensity. "Vegas!" he screamed back, his eyes flashing with defiance.

Vegas took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he attempted to rein in his anger. "Pete, we will talk later," he said, his voice calmer now. "You need to rest. You're in no position to fight right now. First, eat something, then rest."

Pete stared at him in disbelief, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. "Vegas, I'm not here to get comfortable in your mansion. If I say I'll leave, I will leave," he insisted, his tone firm.

Vegas merely smirked in response. "You can try, Pete," he retorted. "But it will fail."

Pete met his gaze squarely, a flicker of defiance in his eyes. "What are you going to do? Buy off the police?" he challenged. "What have you become, Vegas? What have you done to yourself?"

"Oh, Pete," Vegas replied, his smirk widening. "I don't even have to buy off the police. They won't hear you, no matter what."

As Vegas uttered those words, confusion washed over me like a tidal wave. "What do you mean?" I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief. Vegas's response left me baffled and uncertain, unsure of how to interpret his dismissive attitude towards my threat to involve the police.

Vegas's impassive expression offered no clues, leaving me to grapple with the unsettling realization that he held all the power in this situation. Despite my attempts to assert myself, it seemed futile against his unwavering resolve.

I struggled to make sense of it all, the weight of his words bearing down on me like a heavy burden. Was this truly the same Vegas I once knew, or had he been consumed by a darkness I couldn't comprehend?

But as I stood there, grappling with my conflicting emotions, a steely determination welled up within me. I refused to let Vegas's manipulation dictate my fate any longer. With a sense of resolve burning in my chest, I squared my shoulders and met his gaze head-on.

"Fine," I said, my voice trembling but defiant. "If that's how you want to play it, then so be it. But just remember, Vegas, you may have the power now, but that doesn't make you invincible."

When Pete makes his demand, Vegas's initial response is surprisingly gentle, his tone softening as he addresses Pete's appearance. "Pete, you're looking pale and exhausted. We can do this later," he says softly, genuine concern flickering in his eyes. "You can fight me as much as you want, but first, eat something, then take some rest."

But just as quickly, Vegas's demeanor shifts, his tone becoming more distant as he adds, "Because I don't want you to fall sick under my care."

Pete scoffs at the suggestion, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. "Then let me go," he insists, his voice tinged with defiance.

Vegas meets his gaze with a look of resignation, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes. "Come, let's go eat something first," he says gently, extending a hand towards Pete.

As exhaustion washed over Pete, weariness weighed heavily on his shoulders, and the constant tension between him and Vegas had taken its toll. Despite his lingering frustration and confusion, Pete found himself reluctantly accepting Vegas's offer. He was tired—tired of the endless back-and-forth, tired of trying to decipher Vegas's motives, tired of the constant struggle for control.

For a moment, Pete hesitates, his anger warring with the weariness that threatens to consume him. But eventually, he nods,
silently acknowledging defeat. Maybe, just maybe, a moment of respite would offer clarity in the midst of the chaos. As he followed Vegas to the dining area, Pete couldn't shake the feeling that their tumultuous relationship was far from over, but for now, he would take whatever reprieve he could get.