Chapter 18
1064 Words
ISABELLA'S POV
I almost told her everything. Almost let it all pour out...the night with Viktor, his cruel words, the baby growing inside me. But something held me back. Some instinct that said once I spoke the words out loud, they'd become real in a way I wasn't ready for.
"I can't," I whispered. "Not over the phone. It's not safe."
"Safe? Bella, you're scaring me. Are you in trouble?"
"Yes." No point lying about that. "Bad trouble. And I need help. I need..."
I stopped. Through the crowd of tourists on the marina boardwalk, I'd spotted a familiar figure in a black suit and that same predatory movements I have come to known. Scanning the crowd with professional efficiency.
One of Sokolov's men from the café.
"f**k," I breathed.
"Bella? What's wrong?"
"I have to go." I stood up, already looking for escape routes. "Katya, don't tell anyone you talked to me. Especially not Viktor. Promise me."
"Wait, what does Viktor have to do with..."
"Promise me!" I am already moving, keeping my head down, trying to blend into the crowd.
"I promise, but Bella..."
"I'll call you back. I love you."
I hung up before she could respond and shoved the phone deep into my purse.
The man in the black suit was maybe fifty yards away, with his back to me, talking on his phone. But there would be others. There were always others.
I needed to move. Needed to...
A hand grabbed my arm.
I spun, my heart in my throat, already preparing to fight, or scream, to...
"Easy, draga." Mrs. Kovač stood there, her face lined with worry. She pressed a heavy bag into my hands. "I saw them come to café earlier and the way you ran, I knew you'd need this."
I looked inside the bag. There are clothes, money...a thick stack of euros. Food and a bottle of water. Also my few possessions from her apartment I'd had to abandon.
"Mrs. Kovač, I can't..."
"You can. You will." She squeezed my hand. "There's more money than you gave me. From my savings. It's not much but..."
"I can't take your money..."
"You have baby to think about now." Her eyes were fierce. "You take money. You go far from here. You make good life."
Tears blurred my vision. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
"Go." She pushed me gently. "The bus to Podgorica leaves in fifteen minutes. From there you can go anywhere...Serbia, Croatia, Albania. Just go."
I hugged her quickly, and fiercely. Then I begin running again, the bag heavy in my hands, and my ankle throbbing with every step.
The bus station was three blocks away. I could make it. I have to make it.
Behind me, I heard a shout in Russian. They'd spotted me.
I ran harder, weaving through crowds, my breath coming in gasps. The bab...I couldn't think about the baby right now. I have to focus on getting to that bus.
Two blocks. One block.
The station appeared ahead, with buses lined up at their platforms. I scanned frantically for Podgorica, Podgorica, where was the...
There. Platform 7. The driver was already closing the luggage compartments.
"Wait!" I screamed, sprinting the last fifty yards. "WAIT!"
The driver looked up, saw me running, and...thank God...nodded. Opened the door.
I launched myself up the steps just as I heard running footsteps behind me. Shouts in Russian.
"GO!" I yelled at the driver. "Please, go NOW!"
He must have heard the terror in my voice because he slammed the door shut and the bus lurched into motion.
I looked through the window, and saw them. Three men in black suits, running toward the bus. One of them pulled out his phone, already making calls.
But we were already moving. Pulling away from this hell.
I collapsed into the nearest seat, my whole body shaking. My hands went to my stomach, checking, feeling for...what? Movement? The baby was too small for that. But I needed to know, maybe some sign that all this running hadn't hurt...
"Miss? You okay?" An elderly woman across the aisle looked at me with concern. "You need water?"
"I'm fine." My voice shook. "Just... late for the bus. Thank you."
She didn't look convinced but handed me a bottle of water anyway. I accepted it gratefully, taking small sips while my heart rate slowly returned to normal.
The bus wound through Montenegro's coastal roads, heading inland toward Podgorica. Every mile that passed was a mile farther from Sokolov's men. A mile closer to... what?
Safety? There was no safety. Not anymore.
But distance. Distance would have to do.
I pulled out the burner phone, stared at it for a long moment. Then I powered it off completely and tucked it into the bottom of my bag.
No more calls. No more contact with anyone from my old life. It was too dangerous.
Katya would worry, but she'd understand. Eventually.
And Viktor...
Viktor would keep looking for me. I knew that now. Had seen it in his eyes at the café...that determined intensity meant he'd hunt me to the ends of the earth.
But why? That was the question that kept circling in my mind.
He'd rejected me. Called me a child and a mistake. Driven me away with the cruelest words he could find.
So why come after me now?
Unless he knew about the baby.
The thought made my stomach clench with nausea. If Viktor knew I was pregnant, he'd never let me go. Not because he loved me...he'd made his feelings on that crystal clear...but because I was carrying his heir.
Viktor Konstantin might not want me, but he'd want his child. He would see it as his property, his legacy, his right to control.
And I'd die before I let him take this baby from me.
"We're going to be okay," I whispered to my stomach. "I'm going to keep us safe. I don't know how yet, but I will."
The bus rolled on through the fading afternoon light. Passengers dozed or read or stared out windows. Just normal people doing normal things.
I envied them.
I closed my eyes and tried to rest, one hand protectively covering my belly.
Tomorrow I'd figure out my next move. Tomorrow I'd plan, strategize, find a way forward.
But today, I'd survived.
That would have to be enough.
- Writer
