I can’t stay here.
I get up and grab some water with a pan to douse the flames in the fireplace before I refill one of the canisters I had in my bag with water. It’ll last me a few hours at least. Enough to get out of this hellhole. I just need to find a new place to stay, somewhere safe and protected with actual electricity and without mice hiding out in the corners.
Even if I do find another home, this city will never be safe. Not with Marcello running this place. As a powerful don, he has eyes and ears in every corner. I just cannot take the chance.
I have to get out.
So I pack up my things and leave the house as quickly as possible, determined never to come back.
I don’t know where I’m going to go or how I’m going to get there, but I will find a way. It’s already a miracle that I slipped away under his eye, let alone the fact that I managed to escape his grasp when he was right behind me, following me through this very city. Sometimes, I wonder why he hasn’t caught me yet, but I shouldn’t think those things—it’ll only bring bad luck.
I have to focus on where I am right now. Lost in a city without any means of transportation or money, and with too few supplies to last even a day. Could I go somewhere to ask for help? A shelter perhaps or even a relative? No, I’m sure Marcello has them all under watch because he’d expect me to go there.
But what can I do? I walk around the city aimlessly, not knowing where to go or who to talk to. Every time I try to open my mouth to speak to someone, I stop without uttering a single word. I’m terrified I might end up saying the wrong thing, leading me right back into the lion’s den. Any of them could be one of Marcello’s snitches. I can’t trust anyone. Not here.
So I keep walking, walking, walking until I’m overcome with sorrow and despair, wondering if I’m ever going to get out of this mess or if I was already doomed to fail from the moment I decided to leave him.
Maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe it was better if I had stayed. At least then, I’d still have a comfy room, a soft bed, a warm meal, and a nice bath.
I shake my head and force the thoughts to disappear as I find myself loitering at a bus station, looking for change.
Suddenly, a clean-cut man in a trench coat bumps into me.
“Sorry,” he mutters under his breath, his face barely visible underneath a nicely cut beard, but before I can say anything, he continues his brisk walk.
And my eyes can’t help but linger on the item he dropped on the ground right in front of me: a wallet.
Without thinking about it, I pick it up. Its weight tells me it’s loaded full with maybe even a credit card or two. I hold my breath. It feels like a sign from heaven. On one side, a tiny angel on my shoulder tells me to call out to the stranger and give him back his wallet … but on the other side, a little devil tells me to keep it.
Use this money to escape.
But that would be stealing, and I was raised better than that. I know it’s wrong.
Yet … I can’t push myself to follow the stranger and tell him this is his.
Instead, I clutch the wallet close to my chest, turn around, and walk away, even as guilt eats me up inside. I check the inside for an ID and find a name as well as an address. And I make a promise to myself then and there. I will repay this debt to this stranger someday.
Marcello
My angel ran away from me.
My Kitten. My toy. My most precious prize.
I stand on the steps of the church from where she ran. Without proper shoes and my body aching for a bit of rest, I’ll never catch up.
“Go ahead and run, Kitten,” I say bitterly into the night. “You won’t last long without me.”
Let her taste freedom just so she can see how vicious the real world will treat her.
I will find her, and when I do, I will drag her back to where she belongs—with me.
In the meantime, I have other matters to deal with.
Opening my cell phone, I dial a number. Claudio answers on the first ring.
“Yes?” He sounds busy.
Suddenly, it occurs to me that I put Claudio on the task of cleaning up the bodies for disposal.
“Why’d you call, sir?” he still asks.
“Did you secure my mother and her medical supplies?”
“Yes, sir. She’s safe in the hideout.”
“Good.”
“What happened with Frank and Harper?” he asks.
“Frank tried to escape and take Harper with him, but she crashed the car. It was…”
I rub the bridge of my nose and look down the alley I’m walking past. That is where Harper ran. She looked so tiny amongst the shadows before they swallowed her whole.
When I glance down at the ground, something catches my eye. Something shiny in the middle of all that darkness.
“Marcello?” Claudio asks. “Are you still there? What happened to Harper?”
But his voice is distant because I’ve let the hand holding the phone swing down by my side.
I approach the glistening object. Kneeling in a filthy puddle, I reach forward and pick it up.
It’s a key. I recognize it—the key to the safe house.
The one that Harper used to flee from me.
My fist tightens around it so harshly that it cracks my skin.
Grinding my teeth, I reply, “We got to the hideout but then … she ran.”
“Ran? To where?” he asks.
Anger rises in my chest again, hot and molten.
“That’s what you’re going to find out,” I growl into the phone. “I followed her to the church downtown. She ran from here. Put a crew together and find her.”
“Yes, Marcello. I’ll assemble a team.”
“Not just us. I want everyone in on this,” I bark into my phone.
“You’re not saying…?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, mi consigliere. Call every single family in the city. Whatever it takes to get her back. I’ll put half a million up for whoever brings her to me.”
“Do you understand, Claudio?” I ask.
“Yes, Marcello.”
“Good. Now come pick me up.”
I have a mission now—find Harper. It’s simple and clear and right.
And once I have her, I’ll mark her as mine in every way I know how.
I don’t have to wait long. Merely fifteen minutes later, a dark-tinted sedan pulls up in front of me.
Claudio’s expression is carefully neutral as he emerges from the car.
“It’s good to see that you made it out okay, sir,” he says. “And in your finest attire, too.”
I look down at my pajama pants and bruised torso. I can’t help but chuckle.
“Only the best for the Don,” I tell him. “And drop the sir. You only use that when you’re trying to flatter me.”
He grins. “Is that not in my job description?”
“You have one job now. Find the girl.”
We get inside, and I close the door behind me. Claudio is behind the wheel.
He sighs. “Marcello… On the road, I got a call from the team that went after Frank’s wreckage.”
I frown, my heart doing palpitations from the thought of getting Frank and strangling him with my own bare hands. “And? Do you have him?”