Vincenzo Cassandra

I’ve been a bodyguard for five years, but nothing could have prepared me for this. The princess’s hand trembled in mine as we stepped into the dimly lit alley. Her security team had assured us it was safe, but I knew better. The air felt thick, like a storm waiting to break. Suddenly, the world exploded. A black van screeched to a halt, and masked men surrounded us. I tried to pull my gun, but a cold barrel pressed against my temple. “Let her go,” a voice growled. I hesitated, my mind racing. The princess’s eyes met mine, wide with fear but determined. I nodded, releasing her hand. They dragged her into the van, and I was thrown in after her. The doors slammed shut, and the van lurched forward. The princess huddled in the corner, her royal composure shattered. I wanted to reassure her, but the muzzle of a gun pressed against my ribs kept me silent. The van stopped. A masked man yanked me out, tossing me onto the damp pavement. “Tell the king,” he spat. “If he wants his precious daughter back, he’ll pay what we ask.” I watched as the van sped away, my heart pounding. But then I heard it—a faint laugh from inside the van. The princess’s laugh. They had no idea who they’d just kidnapped.