Try as I might, the steady breaths I need don’t come. My lungs feel tighter than ever, and my heart almost seems to double in size.
This can’t be happening…it just can’t be.
In an attempt to calm myself down, I think of the stage. Of the way it feels to sing, like nothing can ever feel more freeing than that.
Performing is the only thing that has truly made me come to life, and I can’t give that up. I can’t give up on myself either.
Even if my brothers see me as nothing more than a thing to be sold off for the sake of an alliance. Even if that is my only value to them.
The decision hits me all at once, almost like getting struck by an undeniable clarity despite the turbulence moving through me. It’s overwhelming and terrifying, but I know I don’t have any other choice.
There’s no way in hell I’m going back to that table.
Waiting a few minutes, I listen as well as I can through the concrete separating me from them. I only hear the dull murmur of conversations and the bustle inside the kitchen. At the very least, I don’t catch any shouting or footsteps coming for me yet.
Unlocking the stall, I take slow, hesitant steps towards the door, opening it carefully. Rather than going left back to the dining room, I turn right.
The hallway just up ahead leads to a service exit, and luckily, there aren’t any staff or delivery people to block the way.
Out of sight, I quicken my movements, shoving through the door and into the light again. The Vegas air nearly chokes me, but I ignore it and push forward, breaking into a sprint through the alleyway.
I can hear the distant foot traffic and a few conversations, but I don’t stop long enough to truly listen.
Forcing myself to move, regardless of how hard my heart beats in absolute fear, I focus on the rhythm of my shoes hitting the pavement as I cut onto the street, ducking between pedestrians and ignoring their startled shouts behind me.
I don’t know where I’m going, but I just know I need to get as far away as I possibly can.
“Hey, wait!” A man shouts, sounding all too familiar. “Stop her!”
A sharp sting of panic stitches into my side at the realization.
They know I left. They’re after me, and now, everything depends on this.
Sprinting harder, my lungs burn, and I swear my heart is seconds away from giving out, but with several pairs of boots trailing me with nothing short of heavy purpose, I don’t allow myself to stop for even a moment.
Eager to throw them off my trail, I weave through traffic, barely avoiding the front end of a taxi and earning myself a swift blast of its horn. Someone nearby curses, but I don’t dare look back.
Mind racing even faster than my legs do, I take a sharp turn into another alleyway, well aware that I have to use the city around me to my advantage.
The men my brothers surround themselves with don’t care about subtlety, and they certainly have no qualms about making a scene in broad daylight. Though Cesare will hold back like he always does. That’s what the others are for, of course.
At the very least, I have that going for me.
My legs scream at me, and my vision blurs as I push. I’m not fast enough, and they’ll probably catch up to me before I can make an honest escape, but it doesn’t matter.
I have to try for myself, and for the woman I could be, if they’d let me.
Stopping means surrendering to my brothers’ whims, and now, I don’t think I can survive that.
Chapter 3 - Ivan
The city tends to be dull during the day.
Without the usual nightlife to bring the Vegas strip to life, it looks more like an ordinary place. Engines idle in traffic, sirens wail somewhere in the distance, and neon signs stay dull, waiting for the opportunity to switch on once darkness falls over everything.
Sitting in one of our cars with a bogus license plate, my fingers absently tap against the steering wheel while I keep my eyes on the nondescript bar across the street.
The disguise Carlo Grimaldi wears is a shitty one at best. The baseball cap he wears makes him stick out more, and the sunglasses perched on his nose turn him into an even bigger douche.
