Chapter 4: Escape
Nella’s POV
The villa smelled of lilies and grief, the funeral flowers still wilting in every room, refusing to die even after Papa did.
I sat on the edge of my bed, knees drawn up, staring at the picture of my father and me at the fun park.
Someone once said the dead stay a few days with their loved ones even after being buried.
“Papa, I have a few questions for you. I really hope you can hear me. But, how do I even get answers? I’ll go on anyway,”
“What kind of debt would make you use your only child as collateral?”
“Were you fighting a battle more powerful than you all these while, and nobody knew?”
“Why did you even die now? Why did your heart have to fail you now?”
I wailed uncontrollably, tears mixed with mucus and spit dripped down, soiling the pillowcase.
The door opened.
“Nella please!” Tallia hurriedly dropped the mug on the table, sat at the edge of the bed, and held my hands.
“I…I should have requested an autopsy on him, right? What if he didn’t die of heart failure as they claimed?” I shuddered.
“Nella, please, you need to take things easy. You need to rest, too. You look so pale and weak. I cannot take it if something bad happens to you.”
“Please.”
An idea struck my head.
“What if we run away? Far away from Madrid or Spain?
“We could go to your aunt’s place or anywhere remote to start afresh?” I wiped my tears with my palm, and a tiny hope bloomed in my heart.
“No one is going to find us. I don’t get to spend the rest of my life with a stranger who kills people whenever they step on his nerves.” I sounded like I was about to win an argument, trying so hard to convince Tallia.
Silence.
My heart was racing. Tallia didn’t seem to buy my idea.
Finally, she smiled.
“Yes, we could go to my Aunt Rosa’s place in Galicia. I’ll put a call through to her now.
“Yes! Please do,” I smiled faintly.
Hope.
Suddenly, there was a sound at the door. Tallia went to check.
“Who’s there?”
“I’m not sure, must be one of the maids. She had a chef’s cap too, maybe she’s cleaning. Nella, we’ll leave tonight. Tallia whispered.
I nodded affirmatively.
I stared at the wall clock, 11:30 pm.
Ten minutes until we meet in the garden.
I hadn’t packed much. Just a small duffel under the bed: jeans, a few shirts, the locket from Mama, cash Tallia had wired me from her own account.
No photos of Papa. No jewelry that could be traced. We were going to Tallia’s aunt's in a tiny village in Galicia. A place so remote even the capos rarely bothered with it. No internet. No cell service most days.
A place to actually disappear.
I kept replaying Giovanni’s face from the glimpse I’d caught earlier today — the broad back, the dark ink, the casual way he’d lowered the gun after he just murdered someone.
The contract deadline was tomorrow at noon. If I wasn’t delivered, the Macini’s would come. Or worse — Giovanni himself.
I couldn’t let that happen.
A soft knock at my door made me flinch.
“Nella?” Tallia’s voice was hushed. “It’s me.”
I opened the door. She slipped inside. She wore a dark hoodie, backpack slung over one shoulder, eyes bright with nerves and determination.
She hugged me immediately, fierce and quick.
“You ready?” she whispered.
I nodded, throat tight. “Yes, let’s leave now.”
We sat on the bed, knees touching, going over the plan one last time.
“Side gate at midnight,” I said. “I’ve booked a ride; he should be around in 5 minutes. We drive straight through the night. You said Aunt Rosa’s place is eight hours away, right?”
Tallia nodded. She’s expecting us. No stops except gas. No calls until we’re there.”
I swallowed. “Thank you, Tallia.”
“She squeezed my hand. “We’re family. And I’m not letting them sell you to some monster.”
Giovanni’s face flashed in my mind again — the ink on his back, the smoke from the silencer. I shook my head slightly, as if it would wipe out memories of him.
“Let’s go now, I whispered.
The house was silent — guards were on the front perimeter tonight, not the gardens. Brenda had mentioned something about a shift change; I hadn’t asked why.
The garden air felt cool. I stuck to the shadows, heart pounding so loud I swore it would give me away.
The cab smelled of cheap pine air freshener and old cigarette smoke.
Tallia and I slid into the back seat, hoods up, duffels clutched tight between our knees. We looked like runaway prisoners.
The driver was an older man with tired eyes and a radio playing low Neapolitan ballads. He didn’t ask any questions.
“Head north toward the A3,” Tallia told him quietly. “We’ll give directions as we go.”
I stared out the window as the villa shrank behind us, lights fading into black. My heart hadn’t stopped racing since we slipped through the side gate. Every shadow looked like a man with a gun. Every headlight felt like a pursuit.
Tallia squeezed my hand. “We made it,” she whispered. “Aunt Rosa’s place by morning. Then we disappear, forever.”
I believed her, and a smile found its way to my lips, like I had achieved something.
The cab merged onto the empty highway, tires humming. We were twenty minutes out when the first black SUV appeared in the rearview — no plates, headlights off until they were right behind us.
The driver cursed under his breath. “Trouble?”
Tallia’s face paled.
“Keep driving. Faster.” I raised my voice.
He floored it.
The SUV accelerated, then another joined from the side road. They boxed us in — one in front, one behind, forcing the cab to slow.
The driver slammed on the brakes, and his tires made a loud screech.
Doors flew open.
Masked men poured out — four, five, maybe more. Guns raised.
One yanked the driver’s door open, dragged him out, and slammed him to the asphalt.
“I surrender!” The old man yelled.
Tallia and I froze.
A tall figure stepped forward from the lead SUV — silver-streaked dark hair, leather jacket, cold eyes that made you feel inferior.
His face looked oddly familiar.
No, this isn’t Giovanni. It’s not Antonio either.
He didn’t wear a mask.
“Out,” he said. Voice calm. Deadly calm.
That voice, I’ve heard it several times in my Dad’s study.
Papa had only one friend who came around often while I was very little.
Tallia moved first, shielding me with her body. “Leave her alone.”
He tilted his head. “Both of you. Now.”
Yes! It’s him.
