The tension in the air was palpable as Dominic and Elijah slipped silently through the shadowy hallways of the old, abandoned building. Each step felt like a potential disaster, the weight of every creak in the floorboards an alarm signaling that time was running out. Elijah's heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing with every possible outcome, none of them good.
They hadn't been able to plan for this. Not really. The moment Dominic had barged in and untied him, the realization hit Elijah like a freight train. They weren't just running away—they were escaping, but from who, and where would they go?
Dominic, however, seemed oddly calm, his jaw clenched but his movements fluid and confident. He was in his element now, not the domineering mafia lord who controlled every inch of his world but a man on a mission to get the one thing he cared about—Elijah.
"Stay close," Dominic murmured under his breath, his fingers grazing Elijah's arm as they rounded a corner.
Elijah didn't reply, too distracted by the whirlwind of emotions swirling in his chest. There was still something about Dominic, something magnetic, that drew him in despite everything—despite the violence, despite the danger, despite how much he tried to resist.
As they reached the end of the hallway, they froze. There were voices coming from the entrance, muffled but unmistakable. Two men, arguing. One of them was Matteo.
"What the hell is going on here?" Matteo's voice cut through the silence. "Where is he?"
The second voice was unfamiliar but sharp, demanding answers. "You tell me! He was supposed to be here. What did you do with him?"
Elijah's breath caught in his throat. Matteo. Of course, he was here. After all, he was just as obsessed with Elijah as Dominic, but for different reasons. Matteo wanted him to betray Dominic, wanted to see the mafia king fall. And now, he was here, looking for Elijah—and likely for answers.
"Damn it," Dominic muttered, his voice low and fierce. "We don't have much time. If we're going to leave, it's now or never."
Elijah nodded, glancing at Dominic, his chest tightening with uncertainty. Could they really escape this? Was this the right thing to do? The world they were in was not one of second chances. It was violent, ruthless, and unforgiving. Elijah knew that well enough by now. And yet, for all the chaos, he couldn't help but feel something more—something that he didn't want to admit was there.
"You're really going to do this, aren't you?" Elijah's voice was barely a whisper.
Dominic turned, his face stern, but there was something soft in his eyes—a flicker of something deeper, something more than just the desire to escape. "I told you, Eli, I'm not letting you go."
Elijah's heart fluttered at the sound of his name, at the raw sincerity in Dominic's voice. He had said it before, but now, standing on the precipice of something unknown, it felt like the weight of Dominic's words was heavier. More meaningful.
"Then let's get out of here," Elijah said, his voice steady, though his hands were shaking slightly.
They moved swiftly toward the back exit, Dominic leading the way, his eyes scanning the surroundings with military precision. Elijah couldn't help but follow, his mind still churning with questions. Why was Dominic so determined? Why did he care so much?
As they reached the door, a sound halted them. Footsteps—quick, purposeful—coming down the hall behind them.
"Shit," Dominic hissed, his grip on Elijah's wrist tightening.
They couldn't be caught. Not now.
Dominic turned to Elijah, his gaze intense. "Go. Now."
Before Elijah could protest, Dominic shoved him toward the door, urging him out into the cool night air. "Go!"
Elijah stumbled but regained his balance, his heart thudding in his chest. He glanced back at Dominic, only to see him standing there, face hard as stone, blocking the door as if he would hold off whatever was coming.
"Dominic, no!" Elijah called out, but the words caught in his throat.
Dominic didn't answer. His eyes were locked on the approaching figures, his body poised like a predator ready to strike.
"Elijah, go!"
There was no time to argue. With one last look at Dominic, Elijah darted out into the night, the cold air hitting him like a slap. He could hear the sounds of shouting and the unmistakable crack of gunshots in the distance, but he didn't dare turn back. Not now. Not when he could finally escape.
But his mind wouldn't let him forget Dominic. Not the way Dominic had said those words: "I'm not letting you go."
For the first time, Elijah realized that Dominic wasn't just keeping him here out of obligation. He wanted him—needed him. And that realization stirred something deep within Elijah, a feeling he had been trying to bury but could no longer ignore.
As Elijah ran, his footsteps quick and urgent, he couldn't help but think of the chaos he was leaving behind. Of Matteo. Of Dominic. Of everything that had brought him here.
But for the first time, as the night air rushed past him and the sounds of pursuit faded into the distance, he didn't feel like a pawn in someone else's game. He felt like he was finally in control.
He just hoped he could live long enough to see it through.
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