Chapter 4: Ermanno Vitale.

“Or What Sweetheart?” His eyes gave away his dangerous nature.

“I’ll call the police,” she threatened, her voice wavering slightly as she realized that Erammno’s eyes, dark as a storm-tossed sea, held the promise of danger.

He smirked, his hand reaching to brush the stray strands of hair from her face.

“Don’t play with fire, Celine.” His voice held a note of threat, like a thin layer of frost coating her skin.

“What if I do?” Celine asked, her voice tinged with curiosity despite the ever-present threat of Erammno’s presence.

“I will make you regret it,” he warned, his words like ice shards cutting through her resistance.

Scared, Celine averted her gaze, pleading with him. “Please, leave.”

“I will give you twenty-four hours to reconsider.” He concluded, heading to the door, “Goodnight Celine.” His voice faded as he walked out with his guards.

Celine immediately locked her door, her heart racing in fear. She hadn’t even realized that she had been holding her breath all along.

Celine's fingers trembled as she scrolled through the articles and pictures of Erammno Vitale, each click revealing a new facet of his mysterious persona.

“Erammno Vitale, Las Vegas Biggest Billionaire Businessman…” she read aloud, the words feeling foreign on her tongue. She dropped her phone, the device clattering against the table, her mind spinning at the revelation that she had been visited by one of the most powerful and feared men in the city.

“What does he want with me?” she whispered to herself, disbelief and fear tangling in her chest.

As Celine pulled out of her apartment complex, the night sky stretching out like a black velvet blanket dotted with stars, she felt the weight of the world bearing down on her. Her phone buzzed with a message from Leo, another in a stream of hate-filled texts and threats from him and Penelope in response to her actions. With a trembling hand, she silenced her phone, the screen dimming to black as she closed off the outside world.

The quiet hum of the engine filled the car, a subtle thrumming that matched the rhythm of her racing heart.

As Celine parked her car, a smile lit up her face, the anticipation of seeing her father a balm to her weary soul. She made her way to the front door and knocked. A few moments later, the door swung open to reveal her father, his hair a shock of silver against the shadows of the night.

“Cece!” he exclaimed, his voice a rich baritone that wrapped around her like a warm blanket. Celine melted into his embrace, her breath catching in her throat.

“I have missed you, Dad.”

“You have no idea how much more I have missed you.” Aaron mumbled as he released her from his tight hug.

“So how have you been? Since the whole marriage scandal?” Celine sighed.

“I don't want to talk about it anymore,” Celine whispered, her voice edged with exhaustion. “It's been hard, Dad. I'm tired of people asking me about it.”

Aaron wrapped his arms around her once more, his embrace a soft comfort in the darkness. “Of course, my little Apple. We don't have to talk about it.”

Celine smiled, her heart swelling with gratitude for her father's support. “I missed my old man,” she said, her voice turning playful. “But you know what I missed more?”

“What?”

“My bed. Goodnight father. We will talk in the morning” she placed a kiss on his cheeks as she climbed the stairs to her room.

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon when Celine, wearing a simple tank top and shorts, stepped outside into her father's garden. She gently watered the vegetables, her mind lost in thought, when she noticed a sleek black car come to a halt in front of the house.

Approaching the car with cautious curiosity, she called out, “Hey there, how can I help you?”

One of the passengers, a sharply dressed man, rolled down the window. “Are you Miss Celine Westfield?” he asked, his tone polite but professional.

“Yes,”

“Come with us, ma'am,” the man said, his voice a cold whisper that sent a shiver down Celine's spine.

“Why? You want to kill me or something?” she quipped, her voice edging with defiance. But before she could finish her sentence, one of the men grabbed her from behind and hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Put me down!” Celine screamed, her legs flailing wildly. “Help! Somebody help!” Her cries were muffled as a hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her.

“Miss, shut up,” the man snarled, his teeth bared in a feral grin.

“No, you shut up!” Celine retorted, biting down on his hand as he attempted to silence her with a piece of duct tape.

“Damn!” he shouted, his anger rising as he slapped Celine hard across the face. She cried out in pain, her eyes watering as he used his body weight to pin her down. Her hands and legs were quickly bound, and the duct tape was forcefully applied to her mouth, effectively silencing her protests.

The ride seemed to stretch on forever, the passing scenery a blur as the car hurtled through the streets. Finally, they arrived at a sprawling mansion, where Celine was quickly unceremoniously carried inside.

The men deposited her in a room, the door clicking shut behind them, locking her in. Celine’s heart pounded in her chest as she surveyed her prison, tears stinging her eyes. The slap had left her cheeks burning with pain, her body trembling with fear and anger.

As Erammno entered the room, his presence casting a chilling shadow over Celine’s space, the pieces began to fall into place.

“Celine,”

 He called her name, his voice velvet soft, but she shrank away from his touch, fear spiking through her veins.

He closed the distance between them, one hand on her chin, his fingers tracing the angry red imprint of the slap. His eyes darkened, a storm gathering behind their depths.

“What do you want from me?” she asked, tears streaming down her face.

“My little proposal, Celine” he replied, his voice cold and hard.

“Go to hell with your stupid proposal!” Celine spat. 

“You don't have a choice,” Erammno intoned, the warmth of the man she'd met in the bar replaced by a chilling resolve.

Celine’s eyes narrowed in defiance. “And who do you think you are? Jesus? Or God?” she challenged. 

“Ermanno Vitale.” he simply answered.

“And I would make your life a living hell if you don’t agree to this, I will hunt your loved ones.” He threatened tears falling all over her face.

“Give me some time to think this through.” He nodded to her words.

“You have two days, Celine. Don’t do anything stupid” he warned.

“My driver would take you home.” Without saying a word, Celine left with the driver.

Erammno's expression darkened, the silence thickening around him as he focused on the two men standing before him.

“Which one of you idiots slapped my wife?” he demanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that sent a chill through the room.

“Don't make me repeat myself,” 

“It was me, sir,” the bald guard admitted, his voice trembling with fear.

“The instruction was not to harm a single strand of hair from her, right?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

The guard stammered, “Ye… Yes sir, I'm sorry she bit…”

His words were cut short by a deafening gunshot, his body crumpling to the ground like a discarded puppet.

Glancing at the remaining guard with icy disdain. “Tsk. Y’all don’t even listen to Instructions.”

As Celine stuffed her belongings into a suitcase, her hands shook with nervous energy. “Dad, hurry up!” she urged, glancing anxiously at the door.

“I'm trying, sweetheart,” her father replied, confusion and concern etched into his face. “But can you at least tell me why we're leaving Las Vegas?”

“Are you in trouble, Celine?” he persisted.

Celine gave him a pleading look. “Dad, please stop asking questions and pack. I'll explain everything later,” she begged, her voice breaking with desperation.

As Celine and her father hastily packed their luggage and raced to the airport, the urgency of their escape mounting with each passing second, a man in the crowd silently observed.

He pulled out his phone, a single call revealing his true purpose. “Boss,” he murmured into the receiver. “She's trying to flee the country with her father.”

“Shut down all airports and bring her to me, immediately,” Erammno commanded, a dark chuckle escaping his lips.

As Celine waited anxiously at the check-in counter, the airport suddenly came alive with activity. The intercom crackled with an announcement:

“Due to unforeseen issues, the airport will be shutting down immediately.”

“No, no, this is bad,” Celine mumbled, her heart sinking.

Her father, sensing her distress, hurried to her side. “Celine, are you okay?” he asked, his eyes searching hers.

As Celine's mind raced, her instincts kicking into overdrive, she caught sight of bulky men in suits approaching from every direction. Panic rose in her chest like a tide of acid.

“I don't think so, Dad,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “We need to leave. Now.”

Celine grabbed her father's hand, dragging him towards the nearest exit. But as they neared the doors, a wall of black-suited men appeared, forming a solid blockade.

“Darn it!”