Someone found Me

Emilia awoke to the sound of muffled voices and the faint hum of an engine. Her head throbbed, her body felt heavy, and her foot burned with sharp pain. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, revealing an unfamiliar interior. She was lying on the backseat of a sleek black car, the soft leather cool against her skin. Her soaked dress clung to her small frame, and a thick blanket had been draped over her.

The rain outside had lessened, but the skies remained dark. The rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers was the only sound apart from the low murmurs of conversation between the two men in the front seats. She couldn't understand their words—Italian, perhaps—but their tone was calm and serious.

Panic surged through her. Where was i? Who were these men? Emilia shifted slightly, trying to sit up, but the pain in her foot made her gasp. The man in the passenger seat turned at the sound, his sharp eyes locking onto hers.

He was tall and lean, with angular features and a strong jaw. His dark hair was slicked back, and his tailored suit gave him an air of authority. For a moment, he simply stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then he spoke to the driver, who brought the car to a gentle stop at the side of the road.

The passenger stepped out first, opening her door. The cold night air rushed in, making Emilia shiver. He crouched down to her level, his intense gaze softening slightly. Though she couldn't understand his words, his tone was surprisingly gentle as he gestured toward her injured foot.

Too weak to resist, Emilia let him lift her out of the car. She winced as he carried her in his arms, his grip firm but not harsh. The other man, the driver, stayed close, his bulkier frame and scarred face adding to his intimidating presence.

They brought her into a dimly lit building—a villa, judging by the grandiose design. The marble floors and ornate furnishings spoke of wealth and power, a stark contrast to the squalor Emilia had fled. The warmth of the room enveloped her, and for a moment, she felt a flicker of safety.

Several more men appeared, all dressed in dark suits, their sharp eyes assessing her with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. Their low voices filled the room, but one word was repeated often enough for Emilia to catch: Don.

The man who had carried her set her gently on a plush sofa, then straightened as another figure entered the room. This man's presence was commanding. He was older, perhaps in his late forties, with silver streaks in his dark hair and piercing eyes that seemed to see straight through her.

The room fell silent as he approached. He studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he turned to the man who had carried her and spoke in rapid Italian. Though Emilia couldn't understand the words, she could sense the tension in the air.

The older man knelt before her, his movements surprisingly graceful for someone of his stature. He spoke softly, his voice low and steady, as though trying not to frighten her. When she didn't respond, he frowned, then glanced at her bare, bloodied feet.

A woman entered the room, her heels clicking against the marble floor. She was elegant, her dark hair pulled into a sleek bun, and her sharp features softened only slightly by the warmth in her brown eyes. She carried a small medical kit and knelt beside Emilia, murmuring something in a soothing tone.

Though Emilia didn't understand her, the woman's touch was gentle as she cleaned the wounds on her feet. Emilia winced but remained silent, her eyes darting around the room, taking in every detail.

The older man spoke again, his tone firm but not unkind. Emilia hesitated, then shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't understand…"

The room grew quiet. The woman looked up from her work, her brow furrowed. The older man exchanged a glance with the man who had carried Emilia, then knelt again, his piercing eyes meeting hers.

"What is your name?" he asked in heavily accented English.

Emilia's lips trembled, but she managed to whisper, "Emilia."

The older man nodded, his gaze softening slightly. "You are safe now, Emilia."

The words were simple, but they carried a weight that made Emilia's chest tighten. Safe?. She wanted to believe him, but the years of abuse had taught her to trust no one.

The woman finished tending to her feet, wrapping them in soft bandages. She offered Emilia a small, encouraging smile before standing and stepping back. The older man rose as well, towering over Emilia's small frame.

"You will stay here," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Rest."

He gestured to the elegant staircase that led to the upper floors. The man who had carried her earlier nodded and moved to lift her again, but Emilia flinched, pulling back instinctively.

The older man held up a hand, signaling the other to stop. He crouched once more, his voice softer now. "No one will hurt you here."

Emilia stared at him, her wide eyes filled with uncertainty. Finally, she gave a small nod.

The man stood and barked a command to one of the others. A younger man appeared, his features less intimidating than the rest, and gestured for Emilia to follow him. Slowly, she stood, leaning heavily on the arm of the sofa as she tested her injured foot.

The young man offered his arm, and after a moment's hesitation, Emilia took it. He led her up the grand staircase, his steps slow to match her limping pace. They passed several doors before stopping at one near the end of the hallway.

He opened it, revealing a lavish bedroom. The bed was large, draped in soft linens, and the room was warmed by a crackling fireplace. Emilia's eyes widened as she took it all in, the sheer luxury overwhelming after years of deprivation.

The young man helped her to the bed and stepped back, giving her a small, reassuring nod before leaving the room. The door clicked shut behind him, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Emilia was alone.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her small hands gripping the blanket beneath her. The events of the night played over in her mind, the terror of her escape mingling with the confusion of her current situation.

Who were these people? And why had they helped me?

Emilia didn't know the answers, but one thing was clear: her life had changed forever.