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Will he worry about me?
"Stay close," one of the men instructs, his eyes never leaving the path ahead. The men move deftly, guiding me through the shadows toward the compound's perimeter. Their movements are fluid, their faces expressionless, but I can sense their urgency, and it only adds to my own.
Then, in the boundary wall, is a single, gaping hole. We slither out through it and I see the car the men point me to.
The world around me is a blur as I sprint toward the distant glimmer of a parked car. My heart hammers in my chest, and my lungs burn from the exertion, but I refuse to slow down. This is my chance for freedom, and I can't afford to waste it.
As I approach the vehicle, the passenger door swings open, revealing Felix and Rosalie, their faces etched with concern. Their presence brings an unexpected warmth to my frigid heart, and I can't help but feel grateful for the allies I've found in them.
"Get in!" Felix urges, his voice strained with urgency.
I dive into the backseat, and Rosalie immediately wraps her arms around me, offering a comforting embrace that I didn't know I needed until now.
"Thank you," I whisper, my heart pounding in my chest. "Both of you... I don't know what I would have done without your help."
"Isabella," Rosalie murmurs, her warm breath fanning across my cheek. "You're not alone anymore. We're here for you, and we'll do everything we can to keep you safe."
Felix nods solemnly from the driver's seat, his eyes meeting mine through the rearview mirror. "We won't let anything happen to you, Isabella. You have our word. Your friend Clara told us the truth, about what happened to Diego and we swear, we will seek revenge for our dear friend."
For some reason, I begin to sob. These are the warmest, kindest words I've heard from anyone's mouth since Papa passed. For I know that Felix Carlisi means what he says, unlike the people I've been trusting so far.
Had it not been for Clara, and now, Felix and Rosalie, I would be dead in a gutter somewhere. My once lonely heart is now surrounded by an army of protectors. I know if Papa's watching over me right now, he's not worried.
As the car roars to life, I sink back against the seat, letting the adrenaline slowly ebb from my body. For the first time in months, I allow myself to hope – hope that there might be a way out of this nightmare, hope that justice will be served, and hope that there's still a chance for the life I once knew to be reclaimed.
But as we speed away from the compound, my thoughts inevitably drift to Stefano. What will become of him? Can he ever forgive me for pushing him away? For leaving without telling him?
The night sky stretches above us, an inky black canvas scattered with tiny, twinkling stars. I stare out the window of the car, watching as the landscape blurs into a dark, indistinguishable mass. For a moment, I forget the danger we've just left behind and the vengeance that drives me forward.
"Isabella," Felix says softly from the driver's seat, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. His eyes are filled with concern, and I realize I've been clenching my fists so tightly that my knuckles have turned white.
"Sorry," I mumble, forcing myself to relax my grip. "I'm just... overwhelmed, I guess."
Rosalie reaches over and gently squeezes my hand. "Of course you are. We can't even begin to imagine what you've been through."
"Thank you both for being here," I say, the words catching in my throat. "I don't know what I would do without you right now."
"Hey, we're family," Rosalie reminds me, her voice warm and comforting. "We'll always be there for one another."
I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat. It's been so long since I've allowed myself to be vulnerable, to let down my guard and lean on someone else. But Felix and Rosalie's unwavering support gives me the strength to do just that, if only for a brief moment.
"We'll make Juan pay for what he's done, right?"
"Absolutely," Felix replies, his tone fierce and determined. "He won't get away with it."
"Count on it," Rosalie adds, squeezing my hand once more.
As the car speeds down the empty highway, my thoughts turn to my father, the man whose love and guidance shaped me into who I am today. His murder at the hands of Juan, the very person he considered a son, is a betrayal that cuts deeper than any wound.
I close my eyes, allowing the fury to engulf me like a storm.
"Juan won't know what hit him," I vow, my voice low and steady. "He'll pay for everything he's done, and then some."
"Damn right he will," Rosalie agrees, her own anger evident in the fire that flickers behind her eyes. "And we won't forget about Don Conti either."
And just then, out of the blue, it hits me.
I sit up and wipe away my tears. "Wait," I whisper. Felix looks at me through the rearview mirror.
