The Escape Plan
1257 Words
Isabella Moretti had exactly three hours before sunset.
Three hours before Luca Moretti arrived.
Three hours before the mafia council's ridiculous decision became her problem.
Three hours.
She intended to spend every second escaping.
"Madam?"
Her maid looked up from folding clothes.
"Yes?"
"Pack everything."
The maid blinked.
"Everything?"
"Everything."
The maid glanced around the enormous bedroom.
"There are six closets."
"Then start with closet one."
The maid looked horrified.
Isabella understood.
The closets were terrifying.
Not because they contained monsters.
Because they contained twelve years' worth of clothing.
Most of which Isabella had never wanted.
Marco had enjoyed buying expensive things.
Shoes.
Jewelry.
Dresses.
Handbags.
Sometimes all at once.
His love language had apparently been reckless spending.
Isabella grabbed a suitcase.
Then another.
Then a third.
The maid watched nervously.
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere Luca can't find me."
The maid nearly dropped a dress.
"Good luck."
"Thank you."
"I wasn't joking."
Neither was Isabella.
Unfortunately, she suspected the maid was correct.
Finding people was one of Luca's specialties.
Making them disappear was another.
Still.
She had to try.
Her phone rang.
The caller ID displayed a familiar name.
Sofia.
Finally.
A sane person.
Isabella answered immediately.
"Sofia."
"You sound awful."
"It's been a difficult week."
"Your husband died."
"That would explain it."
Sofia sighed.
"How are you?"
"I'm being kidnapped."
Silence.
Then—
"What?"
"By the mafia."
"Technically you're already in the mafia."
"That's not helping."
Sofia laughed.
Isabella wished she found the situation equally amusing.
"So what happened?"
Isabella explained everything.
The funeral.
The council.
The estate.
Luca.
The increasingly absurd state of her life.
When she finished, Sofia remained silent for several seconds.
Then she said,
"Honestly?"
"Yes."
"I think they're insane."
"Thank you."
"But..."
Isabella narrowed her eyes.
There was always a but.
"What?"
"If Luca says you're in danger, maybe you should listen."
"I hate when people make reasonable points."
"Someone has to."
Unfortunately.
Sofia continued.
"Do you think Marco's death was really an assassination?"
The question hung in the air.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Because Isabella had been wondering the same thing.
Officially, Marco had died during an ambush.
A violent attack.
A tragic loss.
At least according to the public story.
But the reactions she'd seen at the funeral...
The whispers.
The fear.
Luca's expression.
Something wasn't adding up.
"I don't know," she admitted.
"Then be careful."
For the first time that afternoon, Isabella lost her smile.
"I will."
After hanging up, she stared at the window.
Rain still fell outside.
Dark clouds covered the sky.
The world felt different somehow.
More dangerous.
As if invisible eyes were watching.
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Madam?"
Another servant entered.
Nervous.
Very nervous.
"Yes?"
"There are visitors."
Her stomach sank.
"Who?"
The servant swallowed.
"The council."
Wonderful.
Absolutely wonderful.
Nothing improved a bad day quite like a visit from elderly criminals.
---
Ten minutes later, Isabella entered the drawing room.
Five men sat waiting.
The oldest looked approximately one hundred years old.
Possibly older.
Nobody seemed certain.
Not even him.
At the center sat Vittorio Romano.
Head of the council.
Professional headache.
He smiled when she entered.
The smile reminded her of a crocodile.
"My dear."
"Vittorio."
"Please sit."
"I'd rather stand."
"Of course."
Translation:
Neither of them liked each other.
Vittorio folded his hands.
"The family is concerned for your safety."
"I'm touched."
"You should be."
"I'm not."
One of the council members coughed to hide a laugh.
Vittorio ignored him.
"Marco's enemies may target you."
"Then assign bodyguards."
"We have."
"Wonderful."
"At Luca's estate."
There it was.
The trap.
Isabella smiled sweetly.
"No."
Vittorio smiled back.
Equally sweet.
Equally fake.
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
The elderly man beside Vittorio suddenly raised a hand.
"I enjoy this game."
Nobody asked for his opinion.
Including Vittorio.
The argument continued.
For nearly twenty minutes.
Neither side surrendered.
Eventually Vittorio stood.
His patience had finally run out.
"Listen carefully."
The room fell silent.
Even Isabella listened.
Because men like Vittorio rarely dropped the polite mask.
When they did, people paid attention.
"The council's decision is final."
His voice became cold.
"Danger is coming."
"Danger has always been coming."
"Not like this."
That caught her attention.
Vittorio leaned closer.
His expression serious.
"For forty years, I have served this family."
The room became still.
"I have buried enemies."
"Friends."
"Sons."
"Brothers."
"And I have never seen Luca afraid."
A chill ran through Isabella.
Afraid?
Luca?
Impossible.
The man practically frightened nightmares.
Vittorio continued.
"But after Marco died..."
He paused.
"And after hearing certain information..."
The old man's eyes darkened.
"Luca ordered triple security around you."
Silence.
Nobody joked.
Nobody moved.
Because that was not normal.
Not even slightly.
The council left shortly afterward.
Leaving Isabella alone with her thoughts.
And for the first time all day...
She felt uncertain.
---
Sunset arrived.
Exactly on time.
Unfortunately.
Isabella stood near the front entrance.
Suitcases lined the hallway.
Her plan was simple.
Step one.
Leave.
Step two.
Continue leaving.
A black luxury car rolled through the gates.
She groaned.
Step one had failed.
The front door opened.
Heavy footsteps echoed across marble floors.
Then Luca entered.
The atmosphere changed immediately.
As it always did.
Tall.
Silent.
Dangerous.
Dressed entirely in black.
He looked less like a businessman and more like someone who solved problems with violence.
Which, to be fair, was often true.
His eyes found the suitcases.
Then found her.
Neither spoke.
Finally Luca said,
"Planning a vacation?"
"Running away."
"I noticed."
"You ruined it."
"I noticed that too."
She hated how calm he sounded.
As if k********g widows was a normal Tuesday activity.
Luca looked toward the luggage.
"Is this everything?"
"No."
"Good."
"Why?"
"We'll need another truck."
She stared.
He stared back.
The corner of his mouth twitched.
Was that a joke?
Had Luca Moretti just made a joke?
The world truly was ending.
"I'm not moving."
"Yes, you are."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
"I'll scream."
"That's unfortunate."
"I'll call the police."
"You know several police officers attend family barbecues."
"That's depressing."
"Very."
Neither smiled.
Yet somehow the conversation felt strangely normal.
Which was perhaps the strangest thing of all.
Suddenly one of Luca's bodyguards rushed inside.
The man looked pale.
Alarmingly pale.
"Boss."
Luca turned instantly.
"What?"
The bodyguard handed him a tablet.
Luca glanced at the screen.
Everything about him changed.
The room temperature seemed to drop.
His eyes hardened.
His shoulders tensed.
Predator.
That was the word.
For the first time that day, Isabella saw the infamous Mafia King.
The man everyone feared.
The bodyguard spoke quietly.
"We found it ten minutes ago."
Found what?
Nobody explained.
Luca stared at the screen.
Then handed it to Isabella.
Her heart stopped.
It was a photograph.
A security camera image.
Blurry.
Grainy.
Taken during the attack that killed Marco.
At first she didn't understand.
Then she saw him.
Marco.
Standing beside a car.
Alive.
Seconds before the ambush.
And standing directly behind him...
Was someone they both knew.
Someone who should never have been there.
Someone trusted.
Someone close to the family.
Someone who appeared to be handing information to the assassins.
Isabella's blood ran cold.
"No..."
Luca's voice was quiet.
Dangerously quiet.
"The betrayal came from inside."
The photograph slipped from her fingers.
And suddenly she understood why nobody wanted her alone.
Because if a traitor existed inside the Moretti family...
Then Marco might not be the only target.
Luca looked directly into her eyes.
His expression leaving no room for argument.
"Pack faster."
For the first time...
Isabella didn't say no.
- Writer
