Marcel's lean and defined form strides towards the table, the sound of boots clanking on the ground, and my heart pounding in my ears.

Don't scream. 

He places a hand on the silk table, rings glowing from his long fingers like gems, the gold perfectly matching his honey-dipped skin. 

If I wasn't so terrified, he would be attractive. 

He turns his gaze to his father, who smiled widely at him, pride oozing from every pore. 

"Mijo." He calls, his voice deeper than usual. I feel like Leia trapped with Jabba the Hut, while Han Solo is frozen beneath me. 

Luka's grip on me is like a viper, squeezing my skin to the point of pain. But I can feel his fear and anxiety. I scan the room for Roman's familiar face, and I find it, and his sharp jaw is tightened and fearful. 

At his father's words, Marcel moves towards him, around Luka, whose posture straightens, nearly knocking me off his lap. 

My eyes meet his, and we both know what the other is feeling. 

"Father." Marcel drawls, his voice thick as molasses and seems to stick like glue to the curves of my ears. It is a dreadful and fully evil sound. He leans down and kisses one of his father's rings. 

And then his gaze turns directly to Luka, bypassing me for now. 

"Little brother, so glad you could actually join us. But I'm sorry to inform you that the information that you speak about is completely beyond your understanding." His patronizing voice seems to make Luka shrink further into the plush leather of his chair. 

"Claro." He mumbles, looking down at his hands. Marcel draws nearer, placing a large hand on Luka's shoulder. 

Then I feel his blazing eyes reach me, and I look down at the table, the wall, anywhere but at him. 

"My, my." He slurs, his speech hissing like a snake. "What have you brought with you this time, brother?" His hand reaches out, grazing the side of my cheek. I choke back the bile that threatens to pour out of my mouth. 

Don't scream. 

"She seems so familiar." He whispers, the pad of his thumb brushing the most bottom part of my lace mask. I can feel my pulse jumping through my skin. He tilts my chin up, forcing my eyes to meet his. I almost gasp. They are almost completely black, as if his entire eye is only a pupil, absent of any color. 

"You would expect me to remember those eyes." He whispers, and I feel his finger threatening to lift up my mask, when Luka jerks me to the side slightly, pulling me away from Marcel's touch. 

I let out a silent exhalation of breath. 

"I really don't think it's any of your concern, Marcelo." Luka's tone is aggravated almost to a growl, as both of his hands go to some part of my body, one on my back and the other on my hip. 

Marcel stares at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. 

Then he smiles, and throws his head back in a cackle. The rest of the room joins in nervously. 

"Oh, little Vincenzo." He says, clapping Luka on the shoulder. "I don't want your jailbait. Don't be such a coño."  

Luka's jaw tightens even more and I can practically hear his teeth grinding. 

"Marcel, we have a seat for you reserved." An small voice states, as Marcel is guided to the other side of the table from us, next to his father's other side. 

"Well, am I going to be the only Vincenzo son without a woman? Luka, why don't you share?" Marcel sneers, his slimy eyes turning on me once more. My grip on Luka's black jacket tightens dangerously, sending a message I pray he gets. 

Please don't let go of me. 

He scans Marcel's eyes for a moment, trying to find a test somewhere. 

"I'm alright where I am, Marcel." He says calmly. "And so is she." He nods to me. 

I hold my breath. 

Marcel just chuckles, picking up a cigar from the table and lighting it. His face becomes surrounded by a cloud of greasy smoke. 

"You've changed, little brother. Not sure if I like it or not." 

I take that as my cue to relax slightly, almost melting into Luka. 

"Thank you." I whisper almost silently into his ear. 

He nods, and squeezes my back reassuringly. 

I don't know exactly what I am to him, or what he is to me, but either way he won't let me get hurt. And I still don't know why. 

"Enough small talk." Luka's father drawls. He leans back in his chair, a determined and threatening glint in his eyes. "To the matter at hand. Marcel, you have the mother. I trust you have kept your side of West's terms so far?" 

Marcel nods with a roll of his black eyes, and curiosity begins to boil in my stomach. 

"She's alive, Iago, but barely. I agreed to keep her breathing, but other than that, what I decide to do with her is my choice." He says, speaking around the cigar that now hangs from the corner of his mouth. 

Iago. The name rings bells that I can't see in my mind. That's what they must call their father. 

"Good good." Iago chortles. "But there is the issue of his daughter, erm, Vincenzo, como se llama?" He turns to Luka. 

"Katya." He states, his voice steady. 

"Ah, Katya. Katya Emerson, after her mother. I have to give her credit for not taking West's last name, no one wants to be associated with a coward." 

The room erupts in laughter and cackles, but Luka and Marcel stay silent. 

"I have people looking for her, but unfortunately, she has apparently fallen off the face of the earth, away from home, not even in school. I even got Thiago's son, Ezekiel to watch her. But just like Thiago, he's a failure." 

I haven't the faintest I idea who Thiago is, the name Ezekiel strikes me, and makes my blood run cold. Zeke is working for DQ.

I feel completely betrayed, my head pounding with questions. That's why he took so much of an interest in me on the first day. Always texted me and even knew my number without asking. 

Snap out of it, Katya. 

"We need to find her. West's condition was that if the mother died, it had to be with the daughter. I suppose he never expected to have to go through with it." 

Wow, West. Great parenting, once again. 

"I say we kill the mother and then worry about the daughter." Marcel growls, his tone almost annoyed as a child's is when he doesn't get a cookie before dinner. "West doesn't even know where we're hiding her, how could he know if she's dead?"

Iago's eyes switch to Marcel quickly, and for the first time, he shows anger towards his favorite son. 

"DQ abides by agreements, Marcelo. I will not allow you to disrespect my name in this way. The mother stay alive until we have the daughter." 

Their voices fade from my attention for a moment, as I begin to consider what is actually happening around me. My mother has been abducted, and now they want me too, only to kill us both. My father has given us up, and I will have to go on the run, unless I find my mother first. 

Jesus H Christ. 

I have nowhere to run, no one to turn to. I can't even trust the people who I think are my friends. The only ones I have is the son of the man who wants to kill me, and his best friend. 

How did my life turn into an action film?

"Here is what is going to happen." Iago states, hitting his fist onto the table. "Marcel, you will work with Vincenzo to find the girl, and bring her to me. Alive."

"Que?" Both Luka and Marcel shout in astonishment. 

"I'm not going to work with him." They say almost in unison, followed by a glare. 

"He's just a child, and I can do this on my own!" Marcel shouts, standing up from his chair. 

"I don't even want a part in this. Father, you know I could care less about that puta. Why on earth do I even have to be here at this very moment?"

"Silencio!" Iago shouts, and the room grows quiet, and Marcel drops back into his seat. 

"You will both work together. Vincenzo, you go to school with the damn girl, so you will be able to see her, or at least find her. I gather you can find someway to lure her in. And Marcel, you've always said that Vincenzo should man up and become more loyal to us. What better opportunity than this?" 

Both Marcel and Luka glare at each other, fists clenched and jaws tight, looking like a bullfighter staring down a bull. 

The only question is: who is the bull, and who is the fighter?

"Fine." Marcel relents, raking a hand through his hair. 

"Fine." Luka repeats. 

And I sit on his lap, surrounded by men who are out for my blood, with no idea how this is going to end. 

I've decided I want to rename Guns & Roses, but I have no idea what I should rename it to. Please please leave suggestions below for what you think I should make as its new title!