Run,princess
1054 Words
Episode 4 – Run, Princess
The night air was thick with rain and gunpowder.
The echo of gunfire had faded, but its shadow still clung to Kiara’s skin. Every flash of lightning outside the safe house reminded her of the chaos that had swallowed her birthday.
She sat silently by the window, staring at the faint city lights beyond the hills. Her silver debut dress—once a dream—was torn and stained, a haunting reminder of how quickly everything had changed.
Her father. A mafia boss.
Lance. A spy.
And her life… a lie she never saw coming.
Lance paced across the room, his phone pressed to his ear.
“Base, this is Reyes. We’re in the safe house—temporary hold. Monteverde is alive but exposed. His daughter’s cover is gone.”
A pause.
“Understood. Orders?”
His jaw tightened.
“Copy that. Maintain protection until further notice.”
He ended the call and turned to Kiara, who hadn’t moved.
“You should try to sleep,” he said gently.
She looked at him, eyes distant. “How do you expect me to sleep when my father’s killing people to ‘protect me,’ and you’ve been lying to my face?”
Lance sighed. “I didn’t lie about everything.”
She stood abruptly. “You lied about who you are, about why you were at Crestmont, about why you suddenly cared! You watched me, Lance! Like I was part of some assignment!”
He stepped closer, his voice low but firm. “At first, yes. I was assigned to get close to you—to monitor your father’s connections. But I didn’t plan on falling for you.”
Kiara froze.
The rain outside seemed to go silent for a heartbeat.
“Don’t,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Don’t say that now.”
“I mean it.”
“Then prove it!”
Before he could speak, the sharp ring of his burner phone cut through the tension.
He answered instantly. “Reyes.”
A voice on the other end—urgent, sharp.
“They found the house. Two vehicles inbound. You need to move—now!”
Lance’s face hardened. “How far?”
“Five minutes. Maybe less.”
He hung up, grabbed his gun, and turned to Kiara. “Get your shoes. We’re leaving.”
They slipped into the storm, the wind slicing through the night like a blade. The rain came in sheets, blurring the world into streaks of gray and silver.
Lance led her through a narrow path down the hillside toward the forest. Behind them, headlights appeared—two black SUVs cutting through the darkness.
Kiara’s heart pounded. “They’re following us!”
“Keep running!”
Gunshots cracked through the rain.
Bullets hit trees, sending splinters flying.
Lance fired back, quick and precise, hitting one of the SUVs’ headlights. It swerved violently, crashing into a ditch.
“Go!” he shouted, pulling her hand.
They ran deeper into the woods, mud splashing underfoot, breath coming in ragged bursts.
When they finally stopped to catch their breath, the forest was eerily quiet—only the sound of rain dripping from the leaves.
Kiara leaned against a tree, gasping. “I can’t… breathe…”
Lance crouched beside her, scanning the darkness. “We can’t stay here long.”
She looked up at him, soaked and trembling. “Why are they after me? What did my father even do?”
Lance hesitated. “Your father’s organization—the Monteverde Syndicate—has controlled arms routes across the region for years. The Valdez cartel wants them. If they control those routes, they control everything.”
Kiara’s stomach turned. “So they’re trying to kill me to hurt him.”
“Yes.”
She stared at him, voice breaking. “And you—you were supposed to stop my father?”
He nodded slowly. “Yes. Until I realized he wasn’t the monster we thought.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Your father may be dangerous, but he’s not reckless. Most of the deals he makes? They’re not about greed—they’re about control. Keeping worse people from taking over.”
Kiara blinked. “You’re saying my father… runs a mafia to protect people?”
“In his own way, yes. But that doesn’t make him innocent.”
They reached an abandoned cabin near the river. Lance checked the perimeter, then ushered her inside. The air smelled of old wood and rain.
Kiara sat on the dusty floor while he locked the doors and windows. The silence that followed was deafening.
Finally, she whispered, “I hate this.”
He looked at her.
“This feeling… like I don’t know who to trust. Not my father. Not my friends. Not even you.”
He knelt down in front of her. “You can trust me now.”
“Why?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Why should I believe that?”
He took her hand gently, his eyes steady. “Because protecting you isn’t an order anymore. It’s my choice.”
Her throat tightened.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The rain softened outside, becoming a whisper against the cabin walls.
Lance reached up, brushing a wet strand of hair from her face.
“You’ve been stronger than you realize, Kiara,” he murmured. “Most people would’ve broken already.”
Her heart raced. “You think I haven’t?”
He smiled faintly. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”
Their eyes met—and in that fragile, fleeting silence, something shifted between them.
But the quiet didn’t last.
A faint sound outside—a twig snapping.
Lance’s body went rigid. He motioned for Kiara to stay silent.
He crept toward the window, gun drawn. Through the rain, he saw shadows moving—three men approaching, silent and deliberate.
He turned back to her, whispering, “They found us again.”
Kiara’s pulse spiked. “What do we do?”
“There’s a boat by the river. We’ll make it there.”
He opened the back door quietly, pulling her close as they slipped into the darkness again.
They moved fast but low, rain masking their footsteps. The river glimmered faintly ahead. But as they reached the bank, gunfire erupted behind them.
- Writer
