The hard stares and questioning glances from his friends were burned into his retinas long after he left. Feng had recognized Luca almost immediately. His outfit was hard to ignore, since his ensemble was the same one they had seen him in at the diner, but with a rose pink hue this time.

The car ride was agonizing. It was impossible to stop fidgeting under Luca’s gaze. The driver ended up being Giovanni, the guy he rarely saw the young heir without. Between those two, Jaesung was exhausted. Even though Luca had the whole left side of the backseat to himself, Jaesung found Luca in the middle, looking quite comfortable.

After what felt like hours, they eventually pulled up to an inconspicuous building. There appeared to be one entrance and no name. The only distinguishing feature it had was the grey brick around the black double doors.

Giovanni opened the door for Luca and Jaesung followed behind him. For a split second, he swore the bodyguard thought about slamming the door shut before he could get out. A slight curving of the man’s lip was all the confirmation he needed. Fuck. What was his deal?

“Ladies first,” said Luca. He stared right at Jaesung, eyes twinkling.

Jaesung bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying anything stupid. Today was going to be an uphill battle.

Inside, a white hallway led to a shooting range. Multiple firing lanes laid out before him, with targets in each one and a bullet trap placed behind them. The reality of his situation started to sink in.

This was target practice. The real deal would be a living, breathing human. How much time did he have left as a normal man?

“Here.” Giovanni gave him a gun, another Colt M1911.

This weapon was not as sleek as the one he received. Nevertheless, that didn’t improve his feelings about the situation. It was cool to the touch, the weight of it comparable to the life he would eventually snuff out.

Giovanni showed him how to load it, the magazine clicking into place. The man’s directions were clear and concise. He was a stoic man that never said more than was needed. Luca watched them from behind, leaning against the wall. Not once did his gaze leave Jaesung.

His hands shook as he dragged the slide back to load the pistol. With his thumb, he flipped the safety switch and held the gun up, using the pistol sights to aim. The fabricated target in front of him would one day be real.

Jaesung swallowed and took a deep breath before firing. A loud piercing busted his eardrums as his body was pushed back from the kickback of the blast. The bullet barely grazed the target, but Jaesung couldn’t see anything else as he fell back on his ass.

“Congratulations.” Luca clapped while approaching Jaesung. “So, how was it?”

Jaesung narrowed his eyes. “My ass hurts.”

“You aim is shit.”

“I never held one before, what the hell do you expect? Perfection?” Jaesung was livid. Not everyone was blessed with money in one hand and a gun in another. “Not all of us are born with a silver spoon in our mouth.”

“Excuse me?”

Luca closed the distance between them in an instant. His arm flew out, and he clamped down on Jaesung's fingers with enough pressure to make him surrender the weapon. The loud clatter of the gun hitting the ground sounded like his lifeline splitting in half.

He watched the cat turn into a tiger. When would Jaesung learn to keep his trap shut?

“You’re really testing my patience.” Luca grabbed a fistful of Jaesung’s hair and yanked on it, eliciting a line of cuss words from his mouth. “Listen up, muso giallo.”

Luca yanked his head back more, neck cracking, bones splitting. He brought his lips close to Jaesung's ear, his warm breath making Jaesung's skin crawl. He was immobilized by the fear of the unknown.

“Do as I say if you want to live.”

muso giallo = gook in italian, racial slur towards Koreans.