Arrow

Annia

Tonight should be perfect. I never imagined getting involved in modeling would be so successful. But somehow, I should have known; after all, my mother is Isabela Beaumont, owner of the most renowned fashion agency in Italy.

"You won't be late, will you?" she asked, leaning against the doorframe of my room.

I watched her through the mirror. At forty-eight, Mom was still a stunning, elegant woman with a huge heart, the kindest I'd ever known. Perhaps that's why she decided to adopt me when I was just a baby.

Her black hair was perfectly styled, not a strand out of place, and the black dress she was wearing flattered her slender figure. Her lined eyes gazed at me adoringly.

I smiled at her without turning around.

"No, I'm almost ready. I'll pick up Lucia at her house first." I know this gala is very important; all the money raised will be donated to the children's home, so I'll be in time to pose in that dress.

 I continued applying a little blush to my cheeks. Mom came over and placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.

"Okay, sweetie. See you there."

I dropped the brush onto the wood once I finished applying the delicate makeup, highlighting the natural beauty of my face. My black hair fell loose, like a waterfall, to my waist.

I grabbed my purse along with my cell phone to let Lucía know I was on my way.

When the car parked in front of her house, she was already waiting for me in the driveway, wearing a beautiful royal blue dress. We'd been friends for as long as I could remember; I met her on my first day of kindergarten, when some girls tried to bully her because of her skin tone.

Lucía was beautiful. Her tan skin tone made her stand out, radiating a unique beauty.

When she got into the car, she gave me a big smile.

"You look beautiful, Annia."

"You look even more beautiful. Look at you... Are you sure you don't want to be a model in Beaumont?" I joked.

"No, you know it's not my thing," she replied with a slight blush. "I prefer to continue helping children find homes."

I gave her a look full of admiration. Despite having been able to study whatever she wanted, she had chosen social services.

"Sounds perfect to me. And right now, we're going to help those children a little. We can't get them all adopted, but we can make things easier for them while they're there."

The futuristic structure of the hotel gave it an imposing air. Its lights created a spectacular contrast. At the entrance, numerous journalists were waiting; we allowed them to take some photographs, but as I passed through a group of people, my body trembled.

I had the feeling that someone was watching me. It was familiar; I felt it every day, but I could never figure out where it came from. I was lost in my thoughts for a moment until Lucía took my arm.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

I gave her a slight nod, and we went straight into the dressing room to change.

I was behind the platform waiting for my turn to close the show. I was wearing an exclusive piece from the Beaumont brand. It consisted of a long, corseted dress inspired by the Middle Ages and modern eras, with a slit on the right leg and inlaid details that gave it a delicate touch.

By the end of the runway show, all the pieces had sold, so we had enough money to cover the needs of the group home for months.

The fresh air of the hotel garden was a welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of the gala. The dim lighting made the shadows of the trees lengthen across the lawn, creating an almost unreal scene.

I took a few steps, enjoying the silence, but a presence made me stop. I didn't see anyone, but the feeling of someone watching me grew stronger.

"You shouldn't be alone here," a male voice broke the silence.

I turned quickly. Before me, a man with an imposing presence and white hair was looking at me calmly.

"Who are you?" I asked cautiously.

He smiled faintly, as if my question amused him.

"Someone who takes care of you."

I frowned and took a step back.

"I don't need anyone to take care of me."

"That's what you think," he said, approaching elegantly. "Dance with me."

His voice was deep, enveloping, as if he wouldn't take no for an answer.

Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine as I felt his firm hands grip my waist with a possessiveness that left me breathless.

I felt the urge to refuse, but my body reacted before my mind could decide, and when our hands intertwined in an impromptu dance, confusion and distrust shook me as I tried to decipher who this man was.

Taking a step back, I moved away from him, seeking clarity. But then, the air changed. The atmosphere became dense, charged with a dangerous energy.

He stepped into my path just as an arrow sliced through the air, swift and accurate.

I didn't have time to react. His body blocked the bullet's trajectory, and the arrow sank into his abdomen.

A gasp escaped his lips, but there was no pain in his eyes. Only determination.

~°°~

I froze.

What the hell just happened?

The man in front of me had an arrow embedded in his abdomen.

Since when do people use arrows?

And how did I know it was the sound of an arrow?

I watched him, terrified. He was losing blood rapidly, and his extreme pallor told me the worst. He'd probably had an organ pierced.

"Annia, stop rambling! Help him!"

"ACT!"

I acted without thinking. I wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him still, while he wrapped his arm around my shoulders to help him hold on.

"Can you walk? We need to get out of here; you need a hospital."

"Not a hospital," he muttered, beginning to move with difficulty.

"What do you mean, no? You want to die? You're bleeding out."

"Take me somewhere we can hide." I paused for a second, staring at him in disbelief.

"What the hell? I try not to lose my temper, but you're not making it easy. What the hell was that?" I said, pointing to the spot where we'd been before. "That arrow was for me... It was for me! Why would anyone want to shoot me with an arrow?"

He sighed deeply and muttered under his breath,

"So much time spent with humans has made you a chatterbox."

I frowned.

"What did you say?"

"Now's not the time for this."

I glared at him, demanding answers, but he held my gaze firmly before adding,

"Okay, I know you want to know what's going on, and I'll tell you. But first, help me hide. Let's figure this out, and you'll know the truth about what happened. It's time you knew the truth." A feeling of distrust lodged in my chest, but I kept walking. The only place I could think of was Lucía's house. She lived alone, so I wouldn't allow my mother to ask me awkward questions.

We had to be as discreet as possible, considering she was carrying a man bleeding to death with an arrow stuck in his abdomen. How come he isn't dead yet?

Once he was seated in the car, I closed the door and walked around to the driver's seat.

My cell phone was on the dashboard. I picked it up with trembling hands and dialed Lucía. Just as the ringtone echoed through the silence, his hand firmly grasped mine.

"What do you think you're doing?" His voice was hoarse.

I glanced at him quickly, confused.

"I'm calling my friend. I need the keys to her house."

"No."

I frowned. "No? Give me back my phone. It's the only option you have, unless you prefer the hospital... or I'll leave you to your fate."

He exhaled in annoyance and dropped the phone just as Lucía answered.

"Annia, where are you?"

"Luci, I need you to come to the parking lot." I looked at my passenger. "There's been a minor accident... but don't tell anyone, least of all Mom."

"I'm on my way."

It didn't take Lucía five minutes to get to the parking lot. The moment she opened the passenger door, her eyes widened, as if they were about to pop out of her head.

"What have you done?"

"It's not what you think. Get in, we have to go to your house."

"To my house? Look at him! This man needs a hospital. A hospital! Or, at most, a funeral."

"Lucia!" Don't make this difficult for me, please. Help me!" He was huffing and puffing.

At Lucía's house, we left him on the couch. She went to get the first-aid kit and anything else that might be useful.

I paced the small living room, fidgeting.

"We should have gone to a hospital. None of us know anything about this, especially with a wound like this."

"I know."

I looked at him skeptically.

"Are you a doctor?"

He shook his head.

"Help me."

I frowned, the question etched on my face.

"I need to take off my clothes."

At that moment, Lucía appeared with a first-aid kit and a pair of scissors, which I took with trembling hands. Carefully, I cut off the top of his clothes, revealing a firm torso and perfectly toned arms. A mark on his left pectoral muscle caught my eye.

"We have to get it out," he said, pulling me out of the bubble I'd sunk into. "Do it quickly, it'll hurt less."

I didn't move from my spot. Lucía approached first.

"Okay," she looked at him for a few seconds. "What's your name?"

"Black."

"Okay, Black." This is going to hurt."

Without hesitation, he gripped the arrow tightly and pulled it out in one fell swoop. Black twitched; his jaw felt like iron from the force he was exerting to keep from screaming.

"Lucia!"

"What? He said quickly!" he replied, shrugging.