Chapter 6 : She Couldn't Have Gone Far

****Mafia's Nemesis

After the chaotic murder at the Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport, the news gained international recognition.

When Stefan saw the broadcast on a Bulgarian news channel, he insisted that Nevena leave Arizona immediately.

Without hesitation, he booked her another flight—this time to New Mexico.

She had arrived in New Mexico the night before, and with the help of the City’s navigation map, she managed to locate her guesthouse.

The sharp buzz of her phone on the nightstand jolted her awake. With a groggy hiss, she reached for it blindly, her fingers fumbling over the screen.

“Yes Stefan”, Nevena mumbled with her eyes closed.

“Have you taken your medicine, Lazybones?”, Stefan's deep baritone voice reverberated from the phone.

“Stefan let me sleep”, Nevena whined, pulling her duvets over her shoulder. “It’s drizzling here.”

“Ummm.. okay”, Stefan muttered hesitantly. “I will call you before midday”.

“Thank you!”, Nevena replied lazily, tossing the phone away. Within a minute, she was already snoring.

The next time Nevena woke up, it wasn’t to the sound of her phone, but to the grumbling of her stomach.

She stretched her limbs, groaning at the stiffness that settled in her muscles from all the traveling.

With a sigh, she reached for her phone, noticing a couple of missed calls from Stefan.

A small smile tugged at her lips, since he proposed to take charge of her health, he's always fussing about her medication.

She sent him a quick text, “Stef!!, I will take them now”.

Setting the phone down, she kicked off the covers and dragged herself out of bed to the bathroom.

She however rushed out of the bathroom to the relentless sound of her ringing phone.

It was Stefan again—this time she had to hurriedly prepare something and take her medication before he gave her an earful.

After eating, the room was oddly quiet, prompting her to find something to kill her boredom.

Her gaze travelled to the city map which was still spread out from the night before, red marks circling key locations.

She spent hours trying to familiarize herself with Enchanted Hills, hoping to get a sense of the place before stepping out.

She grabbed her phone and blazer towards evening and headed out.

Using the navigation app, she found herself at Blueprint Restaurant.

The Seamarsh street at which the restaurant was nestled at was alive with the ebbs and flows of traffic.

Nevena walked in and occupied a seat by the towering windows, she ordered a coffee and positioned her eyes on the vibrant street.

Her whole being was immersed in the bustling activities, when a soft tap on her table drew her attention.

“Excuse me Miss, I never ordered this,” Nevena objected with urgency as a waitress served her a bottle of Vega Sicilia Único.

“You're right”, the waitress admitted.

She however placed the bottle on the table with a sharp clink and gestured toward the VIP corner.

“That Gentleman over there ordered it for you”.

Nevena followed her gaze and it landed on a Mexican man at the VIP lounge.

She calculated the demeanor of the gang surrounding him and sighed.

Her eyes found their way back to the waitress who was still standing with an undiminished smile.

“Umm.. thank you”, she acknowledged, her tone a mix of hesitation and courtesy.

Yet, her gaze drifted back to the man, curiosity gnawing at her. Why would he order such a luxurious wine for her?

It happened that while she was immersed in the beauty of the street, the man 'Vincenzo' got attracted to her figure.

Ordering the wine was a calculated move to capture her attention.

Vincenzo had stepped out with his soldiers and errand boys to strike a deal with a client when Nevena walked into that restaurant.

The deal, the noise, even the wine in his glass—all faded into the background. His attention fixated on her.

From the tone of her skin, he deduced that she was a foreigner.

Her red copper hair was styled into a high knot and her crescent shaped eyes glistened when she smiled.

Vincenzo lifted his gaze to steal another glance, but this time, their eyes met.

He waved at her with a self-complacent smile, before puffing out smoke from his nostril.

Nevena adjusted her blazer and approached his table,

“Excuse me. Sir”, Nevena greeted in her Bulgarian accent.

“You're totally excused,” Vincenzo croaked with a smug smile, gesturing at an empty chair for her to sit.

Nevena hesitantly settled in, She placed the wine before him and began.

“I acknowledge your kind gesture—but I'm afraid.....I can't accept it,” She turned down his gift outrightly.

Vincenzo's Consigliere flared up, “You have no right to turn down the Boss' gift”

Nevena eyed the wine for a beat, her fingers grazing the rim before she pushed it toward Vincenzo. Rising to her feet, she spoke again, unfazed by the Consigliere’s anger.

“Sorry for the inconveniences it might cause, ” she apologized.

Then with a slight bow, “I will leave first” she mumbled in a meek tone, before exiting the restaurant.

Vincenzo’s gaze followed her curves as she exited. A slow, sinister grin curled at the corner of his lips. Without shifting his gaze, he spoke to his consigliere.

“La quiero en mi cama esta noche.{I want her in my bed tonight}”.

The consigliere bowed his head without hesitation. "Understood, Boss."

Meanwhile at a dimly lit office at the Police Headquarters, another battle unfolded—one of ink, evidence, and buried secrets.

BREANNA RUMBLED THROUGH THE PILE OF papers on her cluttered desk.

The dim glow of the desk lamp cast long shadows of her fingers as the skimmed over results, arrest logs, and half-finished notes.

“Ma'am, I found something interesting”, Sophia rambled as she walked in.

"Let me see" Breanna requested, snatching the paper Sophia came with.

Her brows furrowed when her gaze landed on a familiar name, ‘Antonio Hunt’

She pulled the paper closer, scanning the details.

“How is it possible?”, Breanna rasped, pushing back stray strands of her hair.

“Antonio is a reputable figure within and outside the borders of New Mex—.”

“I thought as much,” Sophia interjected with a yawn. “I however ran a fast check on our system, and it showed that he was discharged unanimously”.

“He obviously has a clean slate” Breanna commended with a heavy exhalation.

“But how come he ended up in jail, Umm... detention?”, Sophia asked in a casual tone.

"And to top it off, Captain Morgan never listed him in his official discharge records."

Breanna's jaw tightened. "Sophia Kendrick!" she snapped, making Sophia jump on her toes.

"Blade Knuckles is on the loose. Forget Antonio for now and focus all your energy on catching Knuckles'." Breanna hedged in a hoarse tone.

Sophia straightened, giving a curt nod before scrambling out of the door.

Breanna's gaze followed her, but it rested at the crime board mounted on the wall.

She tried to picture Antonio’s face among the suspects, but her mind refused to place him there.

Instead, she reached for her phone and dialed a number.

“Send me the full copy of Captain Morgan's discharge list,” she demanded the moment the call connected.

ELSEWHERE, THE DIMLY LIT STREET LIGHTS STRETCHED Nevena's figure as her feet dragged over the cracked pavement, exhaustion weighing her down.

The long but exciting walk from the restaurant had drained her, and every step toward her guest house felt heavier than the last.

Her only thought was getting inside and collapsing into bed.

She sighed in relief as she reached the door, pushing a damp strand of hair from her face.

She grasped the doorknob, but before she could turn it, the door creaked open on its own.

Her breath hitched, she must have forgotten to lock it when she left.

Frowning, she stepped inside, reaching for the light switch— but the second she stepped inside, fingers like iron clamped around her wrist.

She barely had time to gasp before the rough hand yanked her fully into the darkness.

The door slammed shut with a deafening thud.

“Hey—who are you?! What do you wan—?!” she shrieked, struggling against the grip. But then a sharp pain struck her skull and silenced her.

Stars danced in her vision before everything faded to black and she passed out.

–––––·

The dark tarred road stretched endlessly, cold air caressing the night.

A damp chill seeped into her skin as Nevena’s eyes fluttered open, her vision hazy.

She didn't know how long she was unconscious, but her body ached, her head throbbing from the blow.

Something rough and sticky pressed against her lips—duct tape.

Her heavy eyes hesitantly took in her surroundings.

She was lying on the cold pavement, the metallic shine of a sleek, black Mercedes looming beside her.

Her wrists were bound tightly in front of her, the cuffs digging into her skin.

Where am I?, she wondered inwardly.

The faint beat of music drifted through the air and pierced her ear.

A party was going on somewhere close and her captor was nowhere to be seen.

'Think, Nevena, think' an inner voice encouraged her.

She instinctively wriggled against the restraints, the metal biting into her flesh. It was useless.

Her limbs were weak, her vision still blurry. A frustrated whimper vibrated against the tape as she slumped back onto the ground.

Hot tears crawled out of her eyes and traveled sideways to the ground. Her stepmother was right by saying that she was a jinx.

If not, why does bad things always fall on her, she whimpered.

First she lost her mother at a tender age, next her boyfriend Alexandria, ditched her after she gave him her kidney.

And now just when she thought she could enjoy her last days on earth, she turned captive.

Not once has she experienced a single selfless love after her mother's death.

She whimpered quietly awaiting her ugly fate when her captor eventually returned.

The cold air swept over her face, as if wiping her tears.

Then— suddenly, something sharp tickled her nose. A pungent, greasy scent.

Oil—Her eyes snapped open, hope flickering in them.

Her gaze darted to the dark glistening puddle beneath the car, dripping from the undercarriage.

That had to be why her abductor had left—maybe to find another vehicle.

Nevena shifted swiftly, angling her hands under the steady leak.

The thick liquid coated her fingers, slicking her wrists.

She twisted them, pushing through the restraint, ignoring the sting as the metal scraped against her skin.

Come on… the inner voice encouraged her. She pulled her wrist sharply and carelessly. Then another.

With a final yank, her hands slipped free. Wasting no time, she ripped the tape from her mouth, swallowing a sharp cry as it tore at her skin.

A black van screeches as it approaches the Mercedes.

Nevena's head jerked up in fear as she sighted two hefty men jumping out immediately as the van halted.

Their voices were sharp and urgent as they approached her.

"Let's wrap this operation quickly, Don is already losing his patience", the first man implied with urgency.

"I just hope he doesn't forget a bullet in our skull", the other man inferred and the duo chuckled to his dry joke.

Nevena curled without hesitation, forcing her hands and knees to move— her knees peeled as she crawled into the open drainage.

"Palooka {Man} we're totally screwed, the Dame {Woman} ran." The first man announced, seeing only empty space.

“That's total nonsense”, the other man who seems to be the leader argued in rasp breathing, nudging him away from the way.

“Where the heck is she?”, he roared, picking up the cuffs and duct tape they once restrained her with.

“We're so dead!” The first man added with a hint of fear in his tone. “What if the Don finds out?”.

The leader sprang on his feet and grabbed him on the collar. “No time to assume stuff, grab your torch and find her” He gritted.

The man nodded and pulled out his torch, flashing its beam in a frantic search.

“She couldn't have gone far”, the leader added, making a call for more mobilization of goons.