Mafia trio

The van sped through the empty streets, its engine humming low and steady as the city lights blurred past.

In the backseat, you lay completely still—head tilted to the side, wrists bound, breathing soft and even.

Unconscious.

Blake (black hair) sat across from you, elbows on his knees, staring like he was waiting for you to suddenly wake up and applaud him.

“…She hasn’t moved at all,” he whispered.

Harry didn’t even look up. “That’s usually what unconscious means.”

“I know that,” Blake snapped. “I’m just saying—what if she’s, like… extra unconscious?”

Harry slowly turned his head. “…Do you hear yourself?”

Mateo remained silent, sitting at the far end, white hair shadowing his eyes. He hadn’t taken his gaze off you since you were thrown into the van.

Something about you didn’t sit right.

“…How sure were you?” Mateo asked, voice calm but sharp enough to cut.

Blake straightened. “Eighty percent.”

Harry scoffed. “Eighty—? You said one hundred earlier!”

“Okay, well, it dropped a bit after we got better lighting!”

“You mean after we already kidnapped her?!”

Blake pointed at you defensively. “Look at her! Same hair, same face—it’s basically her!”

Harry leaned forward, squinting at you like that would magically fix the situation.

“…The boss said she had a scar on her collarbone.”

Blake froze.

Slowly, both of them looked at you.

A beat.

“…Check,” Harry said.

Blake blinked. “Why me?”

“Because you’re the one who kidnapped her wrong!”

“Allegedly wrong.”

“Blake.”

“Fine, fine!”

Grumbling, Blake leaned forward, hesitating for a second before carefully pulling at the edge of your collar just enough to see—

He paused.

“…Well?” Harry pressed.

Blake leaned back.

“…There’s no scar.”

Silence.

Heavy. Immediate.

Harry closed his eyes and exhaled sharply. “…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Blake threw his hands up. “Okay, WAIT—maybe the scar healed?! People heal!”

“Not from a knife wound the boss personally described in detail!”

Mateo finally moved.

He leaned forward slowly, reaching out—not rough, but firm—as he tilted your chin just enough to get a better look at your face.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

Cold. Observant.

Certain.

“…This isn’t her,” he said.

Blake groaned, dropping his head back against the seat. “Oh, come on—seriously?!”

Harry let out a bitter laugh. “Congratulations. You just kidnapped a random civilian.”

“She’s not random!” Blake argued weakly. “She’s… similar.”

“That doesn’t make it better!”

Mateo released your chin, leaning back again, though his gaze lingered on you a second longer than necessary.

“…We’ll deal with it,” he said.

Harry crossed his arms. “Deal with it how? The boss is expecting someone.”

Blake perked up slightly. “We could go back and grab the real one?”

Harry stared at him. “…After this? You think we have time for a second kidnapping run?”

Blake hesitated. “…Good point.”

Another silence fell—but this one was more dangerous.

Mateo finally spoke again, voice quieter now.

“…We don’t return her.”

Harry frowned. “That’s risky.”

“It’s riskier to show up empty-handed,” Mateo replied.

Blake slowly nodded. “…So we keep her?”

Mateo’s eyes flicked to you again—still unmoving, unaware of everything unfolding around you.

“…For now.”

The van kept moving.

And you—

had no idea your life had just taken a turn you wouldn’t be able to undo.