Shadows In Durango

*****Sofia's POV*****

The room was silent except for the faint hum of the refrigerator. I sat on the hard stool, my fingers digging into its edges as I tried to steady my breathing ever since the doorbell had rang... The air in the storage room was stuffy, thick with the scent of old wood and the faint bitterness of spirits lining the shelves. It felt like a cage, a windowless void where time had slowed to a crawl. Vincent's words echoed in my mind: "Go with the flow... act scared." My body was already ahead of me. The nerves were buried in my gut, tightening into something unbearable.

The sound of approaching footsteps jolted me and I froze, my heart launching itself against my ribcage as the door creaked open. The same two men from before stepped inside - hired to be here to add an extra flare to the dreaded performance...

They had the kind of hard, vacant faces you'd expect from men who'd done things they didn't dare to speak of. One was shorter and more stocky, with a deep scar slicing across his cheek. The other was taller, a little leaner but just as imposing, his dark eyes assessing me coldly before flickering toward his partner.

"It's time," the scarred one said gruffly as my lip quivered at those gripping words.

I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself as I pushed up off the stool, my legs trembling faintly as they took my weight. I didn't trust my voice to answer them, so I just nodded instead.

The taller man stepped closer to me first, his movements almost cautious. He took my arm gently, his grip surprisingly light, as though he were afraid I'd shatter under his grip.

I blinked up at him, startled by the care. Then the stocky one moved in, taking hold of my other arm a little swifter.

As they began to lead me out, the taller man glanced down at me, his voice low and soft as he said, "I'm sorry... for what we're about to do. For how rough it's gonna look."

His words stopped me dead in my tracks. My head whipped up toward him, my mouth parting in disbelief. I hadn't expected that. Not from him.

"It's ok... thank you..." I breathed, knowing that none of us had a choice since we were already in way too deep...

The taller man's gaze softened just enough to let me know that he meant it. "We don't have a choice. Orders are orders."

For a moment, I couldn't speak. My lips trembled, but I forced myself to answer. "It needs to be done," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Do whatever it takes to make it believable." They exchanged a quick glance before nodding almost in unison.

We started walking again, the sound of our footsteps echoing off the tiled hallway as we ascended the stairs.

My breathing turned shallow with every step closer to the office, the space between my ribs feeling smaller and smaller.

This is it, I thought. He's up there. They're all up there.

Waiting for me...

By the time we reached the landing, my vision swam with nerves as my feet began to drag back against the floor.

I could hear murmured voices growing louder from behind the office door, low and indistinct. My pulse pounded around in my ears, and I didn't realise the two men had paused until I felt their grips tighten.

The scarred one exhaled sharply. "Remember - don't fight it too hard or it will just hurt more," he muttered, but I could see the tension set in his jaw. "We've got to sell it.' I nodded again, my throat tight.

The taller man eventually reached out his hand and opened the door, and in that moment, everything seemed to stop...

The office was larger than I'd expected, since I hadn't been up here before, yet it felt claustrophobic, the walls seeming to press inward as my eyes scanned the room quickly.

My father was found first, sat comfortably at the table, his broad frame filling the chair, his thinning blonde hair catching under the light as a sharp gasp caught up in my throat.

His mouth was curving up in to a half-smile, but his sharp eyes burned into me with an intensity that turned my stomach black. He looked the same as he always had — sick, cruel, calculating.

My eyes darted frantically, as Kieran and Freddie stood up from beside him like sentinels as my muscles tensed instantly in fear that they were both ready to charge straight at me...

I hadn't seen any of them in months, but nothing about them had changed. Kieran, with his golden hair and quick, dangerous smirk. Freddie, his hair a shade redder, his body more rigid and ready for violence at the drop of a hat. Both of them stared at me as though I were a piece of meat they'd forgotten about and just now remembered existed - hungry for what they felt was revenge.

I felt it all hit me at once the months of running, of hiding, of living with the constant fear that they'd find me.

And now they were here.

Right in front of me.

My lungs seized up. My chest tightened painfully. I suddenly couldn't breathe.

I felt myself start to panic, my body reacting before I could stop it. My limbs jerked, trying to pull away from the two men holding me. "N-No- let me go now, I can't do this!" I gasped, my voice strangled as I thrashed and knew that each and every emotion I was feeling in this instant was more than real.

"Hold her still," one of the men muttered to the other in a faux fury, his grip turning vice-like around my arms as they dragged me further into the room to display me before the three of them like some sort of trophy.

"G-Get off me!" I choked out in a cry, the words raw as I bucked against their hold.

My heart was hammering. My head was spinning.

This was a bad idea!

I looked up and met my father's eyes again. Cold. Detached.

He didn't look at me like I was his daughter- he tilted his head at me like I was a possession kept in a museum display case.

Kieran smirked faintly. Freddie crossed his arms comfortably, his expression carved from stone.

And then my eyes found Vincent amongst the table.

He sat near the far end, his hands clasped firmly on the table top in a relaxed manner, as though none of this was bothering him at all.

His expression was switched off and unreadable. The Vincent who had held me just moments ago who had kissed me and whispered reassurances was nowhere to be found in this very room.

He looked at me like I was nothing, like I was less than nothing now to him, and that was probably the hardest part of it all.

Then he laughed.

It was a low, cruel sound that sent ice down my spine. "She's a feisty one, isn't she? I think that's why we like her so much..." he drawled out, being the first to speak above my sobs, the mocking tone slicing through the air like a blade. I froze mid-struggle, my head snapping toward him in horror. For a second, the breath I'd been fighting for left me entirely.

I knew it was just an act. It's all part of the plan, I reminded myself desperately. This isn't real.

But it felt way too real...

"You weren't fucking kidding when you said you had roughed her up a bit eh?!" My father asks, eyeing Vincent and his father next, but not seeming to really care.

Vincent's eyes swept over me like I was an inconvenience to him, as though he was already bored of me being here. "What'd I tell you about behaving, Sofia? Crying and throwing yourself around like that is the reason you've ended up in that state to begin with!" he sneered, the look on his face taking me aback.

My chest heaved, the panic still clawing at me. But I forced myself to hold his gaze, to see through the mask he was wearing. Somewhere beneath the cold façade, the real Vincent was still in there.This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

The one who cared.

The one who promised to protect me.

I swallowed hard, my body trembling violently. The men holding me stayed still, their grips tight as they waited for their next orders.

The silence that followed Vincent's words was suffocating, pressing down on me like the walls of a shrinking room. My father studied me with a sick satisfaction, his smile widening just enough to make my stomach turn. He liked this — seeing me helpless and humiliated. It was his game, and I was the pawn he finally had back on the board.

- liked

I forced myself to look away from him, but my eyes landed on Kieran instead, whose smirk deepened as he leaned against the edge of the table. "She's still a fighter, isn't she?" he mused, his voice dripping with mockery. "I've missed that." Freddie grunted in agreement, his gaze as unyielding as ever. "Shame she doesn't ever learn. Running didn't get you far, did it, Sofia? Brought you right to us!"

I clenched my fists at their words, their taunts gnawing at the edges of my resolve. My breathing hitched, but I didn't let myself break —at least not completely. I couldn't. Vincent's earlier words replayed in my mind: Go with the flow. Act scared.

It wasn't hard to act when every nerve in my body felt like it was already on fire with fear...

"Sit her down, let me look at her!" my father ordered suddenly, his voice sharp and cutting as he motioned to a free chair near to him.

Wheezing loudly in sudden panic, the two men holding me didn't hesitate as they pulled me forward, forcing me toward the lone chair as I fought to get loose.

My knees buckled, but they didn't let me fall; they shoved me down onto the hard seat and held me there firmly...

The taller man loosened his grip for the briefest moment, almost imperceptibly. It was enough for me to realise that he still meant his earlier apology. But right now it didn't matter.

My father's presence alone drained every ounce of comfort from the room...

"Now," my father continued, resting his elbows on the table as he steepled his fingers and leaned closer to me. "Let's have a little talk, daughter."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "W-Why?! W-What do you want from me?" My voice cracked.

His smile sharpened. "What I want is irrelevant now. What matters is what you owe me - you left me in the shit when you ran off from your first proposal! Think of the trouble you've caused for this family after that! The total embarrassment that you've brought to us!" He flicked his hand toward Vincent dismissively next. "And I'm being told that you've even been difficult for him now, especially when he's offered me money to keep you - do you plan to FUCK EVERYTHING UP FOR US?!" He roars out at the end, causing me to whimper and shrink back, terrified that he was seconds away from hurting me...

Vincent surprisingly didn't move. He kept his gaze fixed somewhere above me, deliberately uninterested.

I hated how good he was at this - how he could turn his face to stone so effortlessly.

But I had to trust him.

I just had to...

"Tell me something," my father said suddenly, "Why did you run? What did you think you'd gain? Freedom?" He barked out a laugh, short and cruel. "You're not free, Sofia. You never were. You belong to this family and your future is up to me to decide - it is the very least you owe me after what happened to your mother!" He sneers, and that is what sends me.

"My Mom?! You pretend like I killed her! It was nobody's fault what happened!" I argue back now, hating that he used that as an excuse to hate me like he did...

"Enough now Frazier! Im growing bored of this performance now... I have other shit to tend to today!" Vincent's father steps in before he can even respond, which I was grateful for since the look behind my father's eyes was turning dangerous.

With a heavy sigh, leaning back, my father shot me a final glare which was fuelled by sheer hatred. "You're sure you even want her?!" He snaps out towards Vincent, as he simply shrugs with a short nod.

He was acting unbothered and bored, as I couldn't help but feel that he had thrown me to the wolves - despite this being the plan to begin with.

"Not as a wife, but for personal reasons, yes I want her.” Vincent states, staring right through me as the three of them study him carefully.

"It seems that you'll eventually kill her judging by the state she's in already..." my father hums out to himself next seeming satisfied, before he reaches a hand towards me as I lean to the side as much as I could to coil away from him. I felt violated and trapped, with him now being close enough to touch me, before his rough thumb reached up to my cheek and pressed down on my skin - making contact.

I felt sick, as I licked my drying lips and felt my head begin to sweat under the movement...

"Huh... well that's odd?" My father whispers, as my eyes dart towards Vincent and his father, as they both seem to tense up at the scrutinising tone.

-

"That bruise looks incredibly fresh... so doesn't it hurt when I press it?" He questions, with his eyes searching my own frantic ones, as I feel the blood draining from my face. Crap! 

I've screwed this up!

I let him touch the fake wounds and didn't even flinch... he's on to us and it's all my fault!

"Do you think that we are totally heartless Frazier?! The girl is fully doped up - can you not tell?!" Vincent's father argues lightly, as I instantly loll my head to the side for added effect before straightening back up. Good idea... I can't feel it because I'm drugged up with pain killers... yes!

Please believe it...

My father seems to inspect me closely, his breath fanning my face and making me want to throw up as his eyes narrow in on my features...

But before he could say another word, a light knock is heard at the door, before the handle dips and gains all of our attention.

Who could that possibly be now?!