Chapter 36: We meet again

Third POV

Marco and Elia stood head-on against each other near the door of the apartment, glaring with equal stubbornness. The space between them felt thick, heavy with the silent battle of wills. Marco crossed his arms over his chest, his large frame blocking the exit completely.

"I said you are going nowhere," Marco said, his voice low and firm. He did not move an inch.

Elia tilted his chin up, his eyes flashing with defiance. "Let’s see how you stop me!" he retorted.

Outside the open door, in the quiet hallway, Tony leaned against the wall with James standing right beside him. Tony let out a loud, exaggerated groan and pushed himself off the wall.

"Why are you fussing over nothing, Chen?" Tony spoke up, sounding entirely annoyed. "Elia is an adult. Also, I’ll look after him."

Marco shifted his harsh glare away from Elia and locked it onto Tony. He let out a dry, humorless laugh that echoed in the corridor. "You? Absolutely fucking not. You barely even recognize yourself when you get drunk, how the hell can you look after him?"

Tony’s mouth widened in outrage. His face flushed red, and he took a sudden, aggressive step forward, fully prepared to lunge at Marco.

Before Tony could make a move, the sound of footsteps echoed from inside the apartment. Someone was heading over to the door. It was none other than Orso. His tall, imposing figure immediately commanded the space, bringing an instant halt to the rising tension.

Orso stopped a few feet away, his dark eyes sweeping over the group. He looked at them for a quiet moment before he calmly asked, "All fine?"

Elia instantly broke his standoff with Marco. He rushed to Orso’s side, grabbing his arm like a lifeline. "Marco won’t let me go to the club with them. Orso, help me talk to him."

Orso looked briefly down at Elia, his expression completely unreadable. Then he turned his attention to Marco. "I can come along if it’s fine."

Elia’s eyes instantly shined up. A wide grin took over his face, and he nodded eagerly in agreement. "Yes!" Elia said, his voice full of relief. "You can keep an eye on me so Marc won’t have any reason to complain. Problem solved, let’s all go."

Without waiting for Marco to argue again, Elia pulled Orso along with him, dragging the larger man out the door and down the hallway. Tony shot Marco a triumphant smirk, grabbed James by the shoulder, and followed right behind them.

Marco was left standing there alone in the empty doorway. He watched their retreating backs, a deep frown settling on his face. After a long moment of contemplation, he muttered to himself, "Why do I feel like I’m being deceived?"

Despite his annoyance, Marco locked the door and followed them out.

Not long after, they arrived at one of the most popular clubs they had searched for online. The heavy bass of the music vibrated through the floorboards, but the place was not entirely packed yet. It was still a bit early, so the flashing lights swept across a dancefloor that only had a few people swaying to the beat.

They claimed a large booth in the corner, ordering a round of drinks. Tony slouched into the seat, looking around the mostly empty room with a bored expression. He picked up his glass, downed the liquor, and set it down.

"Why do I feel something is lacking?" Tony asked loudly over the music.

Marco, sitting across the table, shot him a cold look. "Maybe because no one has noticed your ugly face?"

Tony slammed his empty glass hard on the sticky table, glaring directly back at Marco. He then reached out and grabbed James’s arm, pulling the quieter man closer to his side. "I still have Jimmy with me," Tony said with a proud sneer. "You have no one."

Marco raised an eyebrow, entirely unfazed by the comment. He leaned back in his seat, resting his arms on the backrest. "That’s because I don’t need anyone," Marco spoke smoothly. "You should know well enough I can get anyone I want."

Tony merely sneered in response, grabbing the bottle from the center of the table and pouring himself another round.

Elia, who had been sitting quietly next to Orso, leaned forward. He looked at Tony, motioning his chin toward Marco. "Is he that good with the ladies?" Elia asked, a teasing hint in his voice.

Marco answered fast, cutting Tony off before he could even open his mouth. "Not just the ladies. Even guys drool over my abs. Wanna see it?"

Elia rolled his eyes dramatically, his face scrunching up in pure disgust. "No," Elia said sharply. "I’ll be scarred for life watching my brother whor—"

Before Elia could finish the word, Marco interrupted him by slamming his palm down on the table. The loud smack made the glasses rattle. Marco leaned forward, his eyes narrowing into a dangerous slit as he warned, "If you dare say that word, I’ll beat you up, right here, right now."

Elia let out a high-pitched squeal. He immediately ducked and hid his face behind Orso’s broad shoulder. "Orso," Elia complained, his voice muffled against the fabric of Orso’s jacket. "Marc is bullying me again."

Orso said nothing. His large frame remained perfectly still, but the corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly. Without a word, he shifted his weight, moving his body a little as if to intentionally hide Elia away from Marco’s line of sight. It was a subtle, highly protective gesture.

Marco leaned back and looked at the scene in front of him. He looked to his left, where Tony was happily holding onto James. Then he looked to his right, where Elia was tightly holding onto Orso, practically glued to the man’s side.

Marco let out a heavy sigh and nodded slowly. He laughed bitterly, the sound barely rising above the thumping bass of the club. "I once again feel like the single dog," Marco muttered, shaking his head. He pushed himself up from the leather booth. "I need a smoke and time away from you morons."

With that, Marco stood up and turned to leave the table.

As he was already walking away, Tony called out after him, his voice laced with drunken amusement. "Make sure not to choke on your loneliness! If you want, I can call up Fabio for you!"

Marco rolled his eyes at Tony’s tipsy, confused rambling and did not bother to reply. His pace hastened. He just wanted to get away from there and clear his head.

He navigated through the dimly lit club, pushing past the few people near the bar, and finally walked out the side exit.

The cold night air hit him instantly, providing a sharp contrast to the stuffy, alcohol-soaked heat inside. The club was secluded, tucked away in a dimly lit, quiet area of the city. The alleyway was narrow, illuminated only by a single flickering streetlamp down the block. The loud music from inside was reduced to a dull, distant thudding through the thick brick walls.

Marco stood to the side of the entrance. He reached into his dark jacket, pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, and placed it between his lips. He flicked his lighter, and the small flame illuminated his sharp, perfect features for a brief second before he snapped it shut.

He took a long, deep puff. The burning sensation in his lungs grounded him. He tipped his head back, letting out the smoke slowly through his mouth, watching the grey cloud disappear into the dark night sky. The silence was perfect. It was exactly what he needed away from those insane people.

He took another puff, closing his eyes for a brief moment, simply enjoying the isolated quiet.

But the peace only lasted for a few minutes.

Just as Marco was about to raise the cigarette to his lips to take a third puff, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He felt someone stand directly behind him. There had been no sound of footsteps, yet, a presence was suddenly there.

The stranger stepped so close that their body touched his back. Marco could feel the solid warmth radiating through his jacket, pressing firmly against his spine. He did not react abruptly. His muscles tensed a little, but he kept his posture relaxed. He turned his head slightly to the side, his eyes shifting to the corner, though it was not enough to see who the person behind him was in the shadows.

Before Marco could speak or turn around completely, a hand reached forward from behind his shoulder. Pale, long fingers gently but firmly took the lit cigarette right from between Marco’s lips.

Marco froze.

The stranger brought the stolen cigarette to their own mouth and smoked it themselves. A second later, the person leaned in close. Marco felt the heat of their breath against his skin just before a thick cloud of smoke was blown deliberately, slowly, right against his side profile. The smell of his own tobacco mixed with a faint, chilling scent. A scent he knew. A scent that made his breath hold for a minute.

Then, a voice spoke right next to his ear. It was a voice so familiar that Marco knew he would never, ever mistake it. The sound of it sent a sudden, icy thrill straight down his spine.

"We meet again, Marco."