We were Born to Die

Chapter 03

As I stepped out of Daniella’s sleek Bentley Bentayga, a shiver of excitement raced down my spine, intensified by the cool breeze that danced around my legs. Daniella, effortlessly chic and poised, handed the keys to the valet with a grace that made my heart skipped a beat. She looped her arm through mine, the warmth of her touch sending tingles down my arm as we walked side by side, our steps synchronized like a well-rehearsed dance.

Her presence was magnetic, drawing admiring glances from passersby, but it was her inner strength that truly captivated me. In her black cross wrap tie backless bodycon dress, adorned with crystal tassel earrings that sparkled in the dim light, she exuded confidence and power. Her black hair, tied in a ponytail, framed her face like a halo, accentuating her striking features. I couldn’t help but admire her, a pang of envy coursing through me at how effortlessly beautiful she looked. If only I weren’t straight, I thought fleetingly, my mind wandering to what it would be like to ask her out, which I am kidding. Alessandro is lucky to have someone like her in his life.

I, clad in red asymmetrical slit spaghetti sling dress that hugged my curves in all right places, felt a surge of confidence wash over me. The dress, a second skin that molded to my body, made me feel invincible, empowered. My hair, styled in a low loose bun, added a touch of elegance to my ensemble, completing the picture of a woman ready to take the world.

As soon we stepped inside the club, the pounding music hit me like a barrier, making it hard to think. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and something more illicit beneath it all. I instinctively placed my hands over my ears, hoping to muffle the overwhelming noise, but it was futile. Daniella and I, navigated through the throngs of people, their bodies sway to the rhythm, some lost in intimate moments, while others indulged in their drinks. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of discomfort as we moved deeper into the chaos.

Finally, we reached the sanctuary of a VIP room, where Daniella’s friends were already seated, their laughter mingling with the pulsating beat of the music. Stella, Lowen, and Ella greeted us with smiles, their glasses half—empty, evidence of their pre—gaming. I joined them, engaging in small talk, but my mind wandered elsewhere, unable to shake off the feeling of unease that gripped me. Feeling suffocated by the noise and the superficial chatter, I excused myself, citing the need for a restroom break, pushing my way through crowd, I made my way to dimly lit hallway leading to the restrooms, my heart pounded with every step.

Suddenly, someone collided with me, causing me to stumble backward. I cursed under my breath, ready to unleash my frustration, but before I could react, the stranger disappeared into the sea of bodies, leaving me alone in the hallway. As I regained my composure, I felt a sharp sting on my bare arm, and I looked down to see a small cut, its source unknown in the midst of the chaos. Ignoring the pain, I hurried into the restroom, desperate for moment of solitude. I locked myself in one of the stalls, my hands trembling as I reached for a towel, using it to wipe the blood from my arm. The cool sensation provided some relief, but my mind was still racing.

As I emerged from the restroom, the faint sound of laughter and chatter filled the air around me. I soothed down the fabric of my dress, trying to compose myself as I made my way toward the VIP room. But as I approached, I could see Daniella and her friends engrossed in their conversations, their animated gestures and hushed whispers enveloping them like a protective shield. With a soft smile, I took a seat next to Daniella, but deep down, I knew I wasn’t ready for any of this. The excitement that had once bubbled within me evaporated into thin air, leaving behind a hollow feeling that gnawed at my insides. All I wanted was now to retreat into the safety of my bedroom.

“Daniella, I’m not feeling the best of me. Can I just… Chicken out?” I murmured, the words barely escaping my lips as doubt and apprehension clouded my mind. She nodded understandingly, but before she could offer any reassurance, I interjected, my voice tinged with a hint of desperation. “No need to drop me or anything. I’ll ask Mr. Winston to send a car for me.”

Daniella dropped her mouth as if to protest, but I silenced her with a firm gaze. “No need to worry. I’ll be fine on my own. I just need some fresh air.” I insisted, hoping she would respect my decision.

Her expression softened, a flicker of uncertainty dancing in her eyes before she finally relented. “Be safe.” She replied, her voice laced with concern.

I offer a soft smile before slipping away. Stepping out into the night air, I was greeted by a cool breeze that gently caressed my skin, its touch a soothing balm to my troubled heart. The street stretched before me, bathed in soft glow of streetlights that cast long shadows across the pavement. With each step I took, the noise of the city faded into the background, replaced by the rhythmic sound of my own heartbeat echoing in my ears.

I walked aimlessly, allowing the gentle rhythm of my footsteps to guide me as I wandered deeper into the night. The world around me seemed to blur into obscurity, leaving only the comforting embrace of solitude to keep me company. As I walked, lost in my own thoughts, I couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead. Was this the end, or the beginning of something new? Only time would tell. But for now, all I could do was embrace the uncertainty, and trust that whatever the future held, I would find the strength to face it head on.

As I walked ahead, the sound of cheers and a long line of cars filled the scene, enveloping me in a sense of disorientation. I glanced around, trying to get my bearings, but the unfamiliar surroundings only deepened my confusion. With a shrug, I decided to forge ahead, curiosity driving me forward. Suddenly, I stumbled upon a crowd of people, all gathered around a single individual who seemed to be the center of attention. As I edged closer, I realized he was holding a pipe and drinking alcohol, his movements unsteady and demeanor clearly intoxicated. A frown creased my brow as I watched him, a question nagging at the back of my mind: “Is that a cylinder?”

Despite his precarious state, the man persisted in his drinking, swaying dangerously on his feet. Then, to my surprise, he managed to stand upright, prompting a thunderous roar of cheer from the crowd. As the music swelled around us, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement at stumbling upon what appeared to be an impromptu party, even if I was uninvited. With a sense of adventure coursing through me, I reached out and grabbed a glass of punch from a nearby table, taking a tentative sip. The scene unfolded before me in a whirlwind of activity—people dancing, laughter filling the air, and the occasional number of bets being placed.

Navigating through the throngs of revelers, I found myself drawn to a quieter corner of the gathering, where a makeshift bar had been set up. I settled on a stool, content to observe the festivities unfolding around me. But then, as if on cue, the chatter and laughter died down, leaving a palpable silence in its awake. I glanced around, puzzled by the sudden shift, only to find myself locking eyes with a figure across the room. It was a man unlike any I had ever seen before, his presence commanding and enigmatic.

As his piercing green eyes locked with mine just for fleeting moment, it felt as though a bolt of lightning surged through the depths of my stomach. My heart raced as I tried to steady to breath, but before I could fully process the intensity of that brief connection, a voice shattered the moment. “Which one are you from?” the words came from a man, clearly intoxicated and emanating the unmistakable scent of alcohol. I attempted to ignore him, hoping to blend into the dimly lit atmosphere, but he persisted.

“Everyone here is a member from a group, and which one do you belong to?” his slurred speech only added to the disorientation I felt. Glancing around, I realized the truth: this was no ordinary party. It was a gathering of different gangs, each marked by their different colors or symbols adorning their attire. Panic sugared within me, my mind racing to comprehend the dangerous situation I found myself in.

“Holy Crap,” I muttered under my breath, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

The man’s voice jolted me back to the reality, demanding an answer. But I was at a loss for words, my gaze darting around desperately searching for an escape route or a miracle, a lifeline amidst the chaos. “Can you tell?” he pressed, his grip tightening on my arm as if to assert his dominance. I recoiled, attempting to break free, but his hold only grew firmer, his gaze darkening with irritation.

“Excuse me,” I stammered, my voice trembling with fear as I struggled against his grasp, desperate to flee the situation I was caught in. I can’t afford another trouble today. With no other recourse, instinct took over, and I acted without thinking. In one swift motion, I lashed out, my foot connecting with his stomach with all the force I could muster. He stumbled backward, a pained curse escaping his lips as the crowd around us erupted. All eyes turned towards me, a collective gaze filled with curiosity and suspicion.

Regret gnawed at my conscience as I realized the gravity of my actions. But before anyone could react, I seized the opportunity to escape, my heart pounding in my chest as I sprinted towards the exit. The sound of footsteps echoed behind me, a menacing symphony of pursuit as the crowd gave chase like hungry predators closing in on their prey. Cursing softly under my breath, I berated myself from the foolish decision to attend this event instead of heading straight home. I could almost envision the disappointment etched on Alessandro’s face and the smug smirks adoring Matteo and Giovanni’s lips.

One predicament wasn’t enough for me today; I had stumbled into another. If this pattern continued, I feared I might surpass my own record as troublesome brat of the mafia. Despite my efforts, running in these red pumps proved to be a challenge, and I cursed my choice of footwear with every step. Turning the corner, my heart skipped a beat as a car screeched to a halt beside me. Mr. Winston’s concerned gaze met mine through the window, and a wave of relief washed over me. Without a second thought, I darted toward the safety of the vehicle, eager to escape the danger nipping at my heels.

But the respite was short—lived. As Mr. Winston accelerated away from the chaos, I glanced back to see shadows on the bikes and in cars, hot on our tail. Gunshots rang out, piercing the air, and I ducked instinctively as bullets ricocheted off the car’s bulletproof exterior. Thankfully, we remained unscathed, but the outside the safety of the car grew increasingly dire. With each passing moment, the intensity of the chase escalated, fueling the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

As I reached down beside me in the left seat of the car, my fingers brushed against the familiar shape of the gun concealed there. Our cars were all bulletproof, each one equipped with secret compartments for weapons. It was a necessary precaution in our line of world. I pulled out the gun and expertly loaded it as Mr. Winston, our loyal butler, lowered the window for me with a knowing nod. I grinned at him, our silent agreement understood. With adrenaline coursing through my veins, I positioned myself halfway out of the window, scanning the surrounding for a safe target.

My eyes locked onto the car in front of others, its tires vulnerable to my marksmanship. Without hesitation, I aimed and fired, the recoil of the gun sending a thrill through me. The bullet found its mark, piercing the tire with a satisfying pop. The car screeched to a halt, blocking the path for both cars and bikes alike. A rush of satisfaction over me as I glanced back at the enraged crowd, their shouts drowned out by the rush of blood in my ears. I couldn’t help but smirk as I made a dirty gesture towards them, reveling in the chaos I had caused.

Breathless but exhilarated, I sank back into the car, carefully stowing the gun back. “That was f*****g cool,” I breathed out, the adrenaline still coursing through me. Mr. Winston gaze met mine in the rearview mirror, a proud smile on his face. But as the moment passed, a pang of guilt tugged at my conscience, “Mr. Winston,” I began, my voice softer now, “Can you keep this from my brothers?”

“Sure, Miss Falconetti.” He replied without hesitation, his tone reassuring. With a nod, I turned my attention back to the road ahead as Mr. Winston resumed his position at the wheel. Soon, we were back within the safety of our estate, the cool night air a welcome relief against my heated skin. I stepped out of the car, the weight of the night’s events already fading as I made my way inside. A sense of peace washed over me as I changed into more comfortable clothes and slipped into the bed. Despite the chaos of the night, I drifted off into a peaceful sleep.