Mafia! Italy x Reader. A View to a Kill -part 3

    "Stay here, (Name)," Ivan commanded, sending a saccharine smile towards you, his large hand resting on the handle of the door, "Eduard will protect you."

     You nodded, wondering why you would need protection in the first place. Ivan pushed open the car door, stepping out of the limo in all his intimidating height. The door slammed shut and you were left to wallow among the awkwardness that is Eduard Von Bock.

     "Um, how have you been lately?" Eduard asked in an attempt to make small talk, something you didn't care for at the moment.

     "Fine." Was your short and blunt answer. He took the hint, glancing out the darkly tinted windows in silence, a small knowing smile plastered onto his lips.

     You looked at him, your eyes flitting up his scrawny body curiously, leading up to his face to see the almost mocking smile gracing his features. You silently wondered why Ivan kept a guy like him around to be your body-guard, Eduard wouldn't be able to protect a fly. It was sort of offensive, how Ivan never put much thought into who kept you safe, it meant he didn't care if you died or not. Why would he? You were replaceable.

     You wished your life could be like a love song. You wanted to have a man's hands lovingly glide down your skin, proving it to be even softer than the Chinese silk Ivan bought you for a night-gown. You wanted your love to be a man's religion, and for him to whisper sweet-nothings in your ear as you awoke to the sunlight pouring in through the window.

     It was all just a dream though. Men weren't fantasies, they were users and abusers. They didn't want to have your arms wrapped around their chest at night, they just wanted you to be quiet and get on your side of the bed.

     Ivan didn't even sleep in the same room as you, but when he wanted to have sex, you were suddenly welcome under his expensive blankets. You wondered what another man felt like against your body, it was a curiousity mentally haunting your thoughts.

     Suddenly, a loud gunshot broke you from your perverted fantasies. You unrolled the tinted window, revealing a gorgeous Italian Villa, elegant stairs leading up to a giant mansion on the top of a hill, half-covering the pink and salmon colored sunset.

     It literally took your breathe away.

     But that wasn't the only reason you were breathless.

     Ivan and his goons ran down the stairs like little children running from an angry mother who caught them stealing sweets from the counters. A girl was slung over Ivan's shoulder, her wrists and ankles tied, her long brown hair flipping around with every step. She screamed against the gag in her mouth.

     Eduard flung open the car door and grabbed your arm tightly. You gasped at his touch, looking at him for answers. He mouthed 'sorry' and pushed you from the car and onto the hard ground.

     "Go, (Name)! Run!" Eduard commanded like an owner shooing away a dog, shoving your shoulder roughly.

     You glared at him slightly, wanting answers as to why you were being treated like a stupid little animal. "What's happening?" You yelled, your legs starting to turn to jelly as you glanced over your shoulder to see one of Ivan's goons nearing the bottom of the steps, a small gun in his hand, pointing straight at you.

      "Go!" Eduard yelled again.

     You scrambled up from the rough concrete and broke into a run, making sure to take long strides and pick up your knees just like your father taught you. Back in school, you were on the track team, and the star runner. It was an amazingly useful talent, you found out at the age of 17, when Ivan first met you, there were many times when you had to run from him at top speed.

     The wind blew back your (color) hair, it waved like a flag behind you, shimmering in the evening sun. A shot rang out among the yells of the Russian language you never cared to learn.

     You sprinted in zigs and zags to the trees nearby, praying to whatever god would listen that you wouldn't be hit by a bullet. With a small leap, you landed in a thorny bush, small bursts of pains prickling on your legs and arms. You ignored the thorns sticking in your skin and scrambled up, running at a slower pace, dodging tall trees.

     Your breathe came in small pants and gasps, your lungs begging for air. Russian yells sounded behind you, and another gunshot burst your ear drums. Each time your foot made contact with the soft and squishy ground, your right leg screamed in protest. A warm, sticky trail of blood ran down to your ankle, a particularly large thorn, it seemed, digging deeper into your soft flesh with every movement.

     Another wheezing pant escaped your mouth as you stopped, leaning on a large tree-trunk, your heart pounding right through your chest. Only thoughts and questions of why this was happening, and what exactly was happening filled your mind as if the flood-gates were opened suddenly, crashing over other small thoughts, like water would to small houses in a village.

     Suddenly, your wrist was taken into someone's hand. You gasped, too tired to fight, accepting your fate. "Ve~ come on (Name), we have to go." The familiar voice said softly, a hand brushing your hair from your face and pulling your wrist again.

     You shook your head, not even being able to stand the thought of using your legs again, your eyes closed, your head pounding like if someone was hitting a hammer against your skull cruely.

      "Please, (Name), we need to get away from the bad guys," the voice said again, an Italian accent littering his words, "they'll hurt us if we don't." He tugged on your wrist again as you moaned in your parched throat again, building up the strength to take another step towards him.

     You felt an arm wrap itself around your waist, slinging your own arm over his shoulder. You opened your heavy eyes and looked straight ahead at the trees of the small forest, taking a step on your throbbing leg, feeling more blood trail into your shoe warmly.

     "Ve~, you'll be okay, (Name)," the voice reassured, hoisting you up more and taking slow steps ahead, "I promise. We'll go find Ludwig, and he'll help you. He's very strong, he can carry you."

     You exhaled, trying to capture some air into your lungs. You glanced up at the man, immediatly catching sight of the bouncing curl sticking out of his hair. "F-Feliciano?"