Chapter 10: Something Terrible Happened
Amelia twisted the girl’s arm behind her back, forcing her body to bend forward.
“Don’t you ever dare hit me, you skinny brat!! I hate being hit!” Amelia snapped, clearly irritated.
Seeing that, several large-bodied men standing nearby immediately approached.
“Quick, get her!” the girl ordered her bodyguards.
“Come any closer and I’ll break this pampered arm,” Amelia threatened, pulling the girl’s arm even higher, making her nearly kneel from the pain.
“No! It hurts! Let me go!” the girl whimpered.
One of the men, seemingly their leader, wasn’t intimidated. He reached into his coat—and pulled out a small black pistol.
Amelia swallowed hard. Her heart pounded, but her expression remained cold.
“Stay calm, Miss Michell. I’ll shoot this woman before she can break your arm!” the man said, aiming the weapon at Amelia.
“You really plan to shoot me? What if your bullet hits your lady instead?” Amelia replied, then swiftly shifted her hold—wrapping her arm around the girl’s neck, using her as a human shield.
“Go on. Shoot if you dare. But make sure that bullet doesn’t go through her skull,” Amelia hissed, her voice low and sharp, eyes locked onto the barrel of the gun.
The girl started to panic, but Amelia leaned in closer and whispered again.
“Is your guy even a good shot? Judging from his stance, I doubt it,” she said, trying to shake the girl’s confidence.
“Hey! Hey! Lower your gun, you idiot! You want to shoot me?! You’re useless!” the girl yelled, clearly panicking now.
The man hesitated. Maybe he could still hit Amelia, but his mistress’s outburst made him second-guess himself. Slowly, he began lowering his weapon.
Seeing the opportunity, Amelia used all her strength and began dragging the girl backward—unaware that a man was already sneaking up behind her.
“Argh! Let me go!” she shouted.
"Playtime's over, ladies!" the man said as he twisted Amelia’s arms and yanked his young mistress free.
The girl named Michell turned around, glaring as if ready to beat Amelia to a pulp. But before she could even take a step forward, Amelia’s foot shot out—
BRAKK!
A solid kick landed on Michell’s stomach, sending her crashing to the floor.
"Don’t think you can lay a hand on me!" Amelia snapped, standing firm.
"You insolent fools! Take her down! Don’t hold back!" Michell barked at her bodyguards.
"Don’t touch her!" a sharp voice shouted—followed by the hiss of a silent bullet.
A man with a pistol dropped to the ground, groaning in pain as blood trickled from his arm.
Everyone turned toward the source of the shot.
A woman in black, masked and armed with a rifle, walked in with unwavering steps.
One of the men holding Amelia quickly aimed his gun at her head, using Amelia as leverage.
"One more shot and this woman dies!" he warned.
"Are you sure you want to threaten the wife of Luca Devereaux?" the masked woman replied coldly.
"Sounds like you’ve got a death wish."
Amelia instantly recognized the voice—it was Isabella.
"I don’t care! If you come any closer, this woman dies!" the man shouted back.
Amelia’s pulse quickened; death felt dangerously close.
But then Isabella’s sharp gaze met hers—piercing, commanding, almost as if saying, “Trust me.”
That look sparked something in Amelia.
Without thinking, she grabbed the man’s gun hand and drove her head forward—
BUGH!
Her head collided with his jaw, dazing him and nearly knocking the weapon from his grip.
"Amelia! Now!" Isabella yelled, instantly raising her rifle—
DUAR!
A clean shot tore through the man’s arm. He screamed and dropped the gun.
"Follow me!" Isabella commanded, already on the move.
Amelia didn’t need to be told twice. She immediately sprinted after Isabella, who was swiftly heading toward the exit.
But before they could reach the door, several large men in black uniforms appeared from the side of the warehouse, blocking their way.
"Stop! You’re not getting out of here!"
Suddenly—THUD! One of them was thrown backward, crashing into the wall and collapsing unconscious.
From the shadows stepped out a sharply dressed man with a cold, piercing gaze: Alfonso.
Without a word, Alfonso moved like lightning.
A powerful punch struck one man in the gut, followed by a sweeping kick that brought down two others at once.
Another tried to ambush him from behind, but Alfonso spun around, slammed his elbow into the man’s jaw, and finished with a brutal knee to the face.
THUMP! CRACK!
One by one, the men dropped, groaning in pain, left scattered across the warehouse floor.
"Get in the car. Now!" Alfonso ordered Isabella and Amelia.
The three of them rushed toward a sleek black car parked nearby. As soon as the doors shut, the vehicle sped away from the scene.
Inside, Amelia sat hunched, gasping for air, sweat running down her forehead. She hugged herself tightly, her body still trembling.
"Oh God... I... I almost died back there," she whispered, her voice cracking.
Isabella glanced at her briefly, then turned her gaze forward.
"It seems... Luca made you his 'wife' for this mission," she said calmly, her tone sharp.
Amelia turned to her, confusion still in her eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"Because he knew being his wife meant danger," Isabella continued. "And he was too much of a coward to put his precious girlfriend in a situation like this.
You... were used as a shield."
"Nothing comes for free with Luca. You know this woman has a huge debt at the casino," Alfonso replied, responding to Isabella’s remark.
"Yeah, you’re right! But don’t worry, Ma’am, we’ll protect you," Isabella added.
Sweet words—but to Amelia, they sounded anything but comforting.
A shield? A distraction? A decoy!
Luca was insane. Unbelievable! How dare he?
This was far too reckless—using her life as collateral for a debt!
She fell silent, eyes staring blankly out the window, a bitter realization settling in her chest:
At any moment, she could die a stupid death as the wife of that rich mafia boss.
But there was one thing she had to do—
Survive.