The dream

{ Alessandro }

Pain was an old friend, but tonight it was a beast digging its claws deep into me. The ropes dug into my wrists, my head hung low, and the metallic taste of blood coated my tongue. The dimly lit warehouse smelled of rust and sweat; the air thick with something more sinister-death.

A loud crack cut through the room as a fist landed across my ribs. I hardly flinched. After hours, perhaps days, of this, my body had grown numb to anything less than bone-breaking. The men around me hooted with laughter.

"Still not talking, huh?" One of them-a man with a scar running down his cheek-squatted down in front of me, grasping my chin and turning me so I faced him. "You Mafia types always think you're so above the law. But let me tell you something, Alessandro." He leaned in, reeking of booze and cigars. "You're alone. No family, no backup. No one's coming for you."

I gave him a bloody grin. "You sound nervous, Scarface. Scared I might not be alone after all?"

His grip tightened, but I laughed-a dry rasping sound. I couldn't afford to let them see the cracks forming beneath my cool. I had come to Hong Kong looking for answers, looking for the people responsible for what happened to my brother. And now, I had a sinking feeling I had just walked straight into a trap.

Scarface let out a sigh, standing up as he did so. "I was gonna be patient with you. Really, I was." He turned to the rest. "But I think our friend here needs a reminder of who he's dealing with."

I barely had time to brace myself before the next hit came, sending white-hot pain searing through my side. My body jerked against the restraints, but I gritted my teeth, refusing them the satisfaction of a reaction.

"You think you're the only one after revenge, Alessandro?" Scarface continued. "You're playing a dangerous game, and you don't even know who the real enemy is."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, but I kept my face impassive. If I had suspected the Hong Kong mafia before, I now knew: I wasn't just chasing ghosts. I was getting close to something. Something big.

But the question was … would I make it out of here alive to find out what it was?

{ Mia }

I could barely see a figure struggling in a dimly lit room; I could feel the acceleration in my heartbeat as the man spoke, "You're playing a dangerous game, and you don't even know who the real enemy is."

I walked a little closer, and I felt all the color drain from my face.

My father sat in a chair; his hands were tied, his face and clothes full of blood.

I then saw the man place a gun to my father's head; a volcano blew up inside, and before I knew it, my fist landed on his face, sending him flying.

Suddenly the man flew across the room like a pigeon feather.I had hit people before, but never had I sent someone flying across the room like that.

I could see all the men around my father freeze and take out their weapons. All of them terrified, shooting bullets in all different directions, one bullet flew right through me.

My brows knitted in confusion. ' what's happening?'

Then one of them, turned towards him." What did you do?!" He screamed trying to wrap his head around the situation.

As soon as he raised his hand to strike my father, I ran towards him and held him by the wrist.

I could see confusion cloud his eyes, as I heard his feer filled voice "w-who's there"

I smirked, 'They can't see me. but I can hurt them .'

I started causing a storm. Whatever human came my way was catapulted across the room. For once, my dad needed to get out from there.

10 minutes and I was huffing- hard, pouring sweat down my back.

Through the window now, I saw my father lool towards me both curious and frightened.

I hurried to him, untying him, asking him if he was alright, but he couldn't hear me. I froze: "Dad, dad!!! Are you alright?!"

I froze why wasn't he answering?!

A sharp gasp tore from my lips as I shot upright in bed, my heart hammering against my ribs. Shaking terribly, soaked in sweat, like I'd just run a mile, my hands instinctively reached forward searching and searching for him.

But there was nothing. Just the cold sheets beneath my fingertips.

A dream. It was just a dream.

So why did it feel so real?

"Deep breaths, Mia," Scarlett's voice hummed in my earpiece, calm yet laced with something close to concern. "Your heart rate is elevated, and your body temperature is abnormally high. Initiating cooling protocol."

A cool breeze filtered through my room, the vents adjusting in an instant. I clenched my fists, trying to center myself, but my hands still shook.

"I saw him," I whispered hoarsely. "I saw my dad."

Scarlett hesitated before speaking. "It was a dream, Mia. Your brain is processing stress and fear. Your father is scheduled to return in...."

"No." My voice was stronger now. "It wasn't a dream, Scarlett. I felt it. The blood, the ropes digging into his wrists. The way they were looking at him. The way he looked at me." I swallowed hard. "He was in pain."

Scarlett said nothing for a moment, digesting this, before responding. "Do you think you're having a memory?

I shook my head. "No… It wasn't something I've seen before. But it wasn't fake either. I was there, Scarlett. I hit them. I fought them." I ran a shaky hand through my hair. "I shouldn't have been able to. I was invisible, but they still felt me. How is that possible?"

Had I projected myself into that place somehow? Or worse had I physically been there?

A sudden thought struck me, sending a fresh wave of panic through my veins.

What if my dad actually was in danger?

"Scarlett," I whispered urgently. "Scan for any news, any reports, any intercepted messages about Alessandro Bianchi in Hong Kong. Right now."

Scarlett didn't hesitate this time. "Understood. Initiating search."

I forced myself to take slow breaths, trying to calm my spiraling thoughts. But deep down, I knew the truth.

It wasn't just a dream.