An Arranged Marriage To The Mafia...?

James Radev's chocolate brown eyes didn't flutter open like the cliche scene of films, instead his body lay motionles and pale against the itchy woven blankets of a hospital bed, surrounded by his panicked family. My eyes never strayed from the soft flowing motion of his chest rising and falling evenly with every breath, my ears heard nothing but the slow ticking beep of his heart rate reading over the electrocardiogram and I could feel the weight of exhaustion taking hold.

Ethan's hand wound softly in my own, his gaze boaring through my own, "I should probably get you home," his eyes flickered from the face of his watch back to my blank stare.

"N-"

"I think it's best dear, you can't be here for him while you're falling asleep." Maria Radev's smile was warm and I nodded my head slolwly in response.

Ethan shifted in the chair beside my own, placing his keys in the pocket of his suit pants and offering his hand, graciously as possible I forced my small palm on the inside of his and allowed him to pull me up from the soft seat. For a moment I stood still to muster and gather my energy, my head spinning with the sudden elevation, Ethan's hand quickly tightened around my own and with a quick bid of goodbye had me following tiredly down the now-empty hospital halls, pausing for a brief moment by the elevator before falling down the floors and finding ourselves upon the crips Nevada streets.

My body involuntarily shook from the sudden un-anticipated climate change and upon noticing this Ethan shrugged the suit jacket from his shoulders and placed it over mine, his hand once again finding mine and walking in silence to his sleak black car.

Silence enveloped the entire journey home, the radio adjusted to a soft murmur, the gentle hum of the engine and fleeting scenery enough to make my head swim in a drowsy circle.

"Amelia." His voice whispered through the warm air, his palm gently rocking against my shoulder. I was more than aware of Ethan's attempts at bringing me from the mild state of slumber, yet total exhaustion eliminated every attempt at waking I made.

Slightly aware of the altered atmosphere around me I felt the weather change from the warmth of the car's heater to the chill of a midnight breeze, I could feel Ethan's arms supporting underneath my knees and holding my head upright and smell the pale scent of his cologne radiating from his starched shirt. The familiar fragrance of my father's mid-town mansion enveloped my senses and I knew all too well where I was; I was home.

"Amelia...." Ethan's voice echoed inside my head again as the cool feel of soft sheets surrounded every inch of skin, "Amelia, I need you to wake up for a second."

Heavily I pulled my eyelids to stare lazily toward my betrothed, his striking stare holding my gaze.

"I need you to do something for me. I need you to keep this on you.." I frowned up at him as he past my slim black phone to me, opening my right palm and placing the cell inside. "I need you to promise me you'll call me if anything happends, okay?"

"What do you mean?" Suddenly I was awake, "If what happends?"

"If anything happends Amelia. Make sure you call me."

"Ethan, you're scaring me." Panic rose inside my chest.

He smiled, "don't be scared. Everything will be just fine." He kissed the centre of my forehead and gave me another reassuring glance, "just promise me you'll call."

I nodded slowly as my heart thudded on the inside of my chest cavity.

"Promise?"

"I promise." I frowned but gripped the phone tightly in my hand.

Satisfied with my answer Ethan moved from the edge of my mattress and wandered slowly toward the bedroom door, pausing at the threshold to shoot one single glance my way and disappeared out into the night.

For endless minutes I lay, subtly terrfied at the thought of just what Ethan could have meant by 'if anything happends'. In our world it didn't have the translation of something simply going wrong; no, in our world it meant something life threatening and it terrified me to the very core.

Entirely exhausted I could feel the weight of sleep burning through my whole body, the darkness beckoned me forth and I lost myself inside rapid dreams. Though my dreams were always interrupted, by the world, the chaos and most importantly the sound of gunshots ringing down my hallway. For a moment I preceeded that it had been a part of my dream, that it was simply an illusion of my mind toying with my conscious self. Yet when I heard the violent shouts of unfamiliar male voice and the rush of steps along the carpeted stairs I knew all too well that this was reality.

Instinct over ruled every judgement I could possibly make at that exact moment, I sprang from the covers of my bed, quietly rushing to my door. I held my breath as I turned the brass handle and took a timid, shaking step into the hall outside. Directly before me stood the banister, the railing of the upper floor which over looked the level below. Trembling with pure fear I peered across the stairs taking in the chaotic scene below. A minimum of five mean dressed in black ransacked the bottom floor, their faces un-covered and eyes searching for something and it wasn't difficult to figure out what exactly.... they were looking for me.

Eyes wide, adreneline pounding through my veins I back peddled toward the white-wash door and closed it against the frame as gently as I possibly could. Inside, away from the predators downstairs I panicked and put forward a plan of action, prying open a window and gathering the slim black phone in my shaking palm. As one leg swung over the ledge I heard the growing rumble of hurried steps falling with determination towards my room.

The night air raised goosebumps along my skin, my thin dress doing absolutely nothing to keep the harsh climate at bay. My bare feet gripped along the tilted roof top of the second floor and I desperately search for an exit way, a safe means of finding the perfect soil of the ground. Diagonally I waded down the sharp slope of the roof top, my fingers speedily dialed the only phone number that made sense at a time like this.

It rang twice before the other line picked up.

"Amelia?" His voice was rushed and I could hear the flurry of traffic whipping through the ear piece. Are you alright? Has something happend? Where are you"

"I-I don't know..."

"You don't know? What do you mean you don't know?"

"Th-there's somebody here... people... Jakowski... they have guns and I-I-"

"Where are you"

I froze and took in my surroundings, "the roof..."

"The roof?.... Go to the west enterance gate, hide in the tool shed out the very back. I'll come find you."

"I-I don't think I can get down." Panic embedded in every single one of my words.

"Amelia." his voice was beyond demanding, "Get down, run, go to the shed. I'm on my way."

The line fell silent and I knew at that instant that I had barely any time. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the railing of the roof top, slowly lowering one leg down along the white brick wall until I could feel the wooden railing against my bare sole. Quietly I lowered myself to the remaining inch of the small ledge and without contemplating any consequences landed with a small even thud upon the cool, perectly manicured grass, my bare feet instantly fleeing along the wet ground toward the small tool shed plotted over the horizon.

My pace did nothing but qicken at the sound of looming shouts and a vivdly distant gun shot, the small sanctuary of my hide out only driving me to run harder and faster. Inside I sat, huddled and curled in the corner of the darkness, panicked and fear over-riding every centimetre of my state of mind. I anticipated every movement, every sound outside the thin walls, I flinched at every decible that resembled another life or my approaching murder. And I let the full force of my terrified screams realease from my lungs as the side door swung slowly open and a dark shadow stepped toward me.