The Don’s Soulmate

41. Carlotta

Chapter 41

Carlotta

We shuffle out of the pawn shop, caps pulled low and sunglasses shielding our eyes. My heart pounds as I glance over my shoulder, clutching the wad of cash in my pocket. That was the last of my gold. Our funds are nearly gone, the reality of our situation sinking in with every step.

Ettore grabs my arm, his grip like iron. “Let’s hurry back,” he mutters. We had to risk walking and had to leave the car at the motel, given how we couldn’t spend the last of our cash on gas.

Safely inside our room, Ettore paces, before going to sit on his computer, to recheck what he already knew from hours of research the night before.

“There’s no easy way to convert crypto without leaving a trace. My wallets all have history tied to my identity. Someone leaked it, damn it! We’ll be traced.”

He slams a fist into the wall, cursing. I flinch, my chest tightening. I hate seeing him like this - helpless, out of control. We can’t go on like this, given how we have no more possessions to pawn off.

"That was it," Ettore mutters, his voice strained. "The last of our gold."

I can hear the frustration seeping through his words, and I share his concern. Our funds are dwindling, and we need more money to survive. The weight of our situation is suffocating. I swallow hard, my throat dry.

"Can't we find another way?" I ask, biting my lip. I hate seeing him like this, the stress taking its toll on his face.

He sighs, running a hand through his slick black hair. "I don't know, Carlotta. It's not looking good."

An uneasy silence fills the room, oppressive and heavy, as Ettore's frustration grows. I can't bear it any longer – I have to do something.

I want nothing more than to ease his burden, to show him that together, we can overcome anything; that he doesn’t have anything to worry about while I still stand by his side. A sudden thought strikes me, and I realize there's someone who might be able to help us.

"Ettore," I say tentatively, my voice barely above a whisper. "What about Sofia?"

He looks up from his laptop, his blue eyes narrowing in confusion. "What about her?"

"Maybe we should contact her. She must still be worried sick about our disappearance. You know how I’ve wanted us to send her a message, but one thing kept happening after another. Perhaps it’s time to contact her now," I pause, clasping my hands together nervously. "Besides, she could help us. She could bring us cash."

Ettore ponders for a moment, his gaze distant as he contemplates my suggestion. Finally, he nods slowly. "You're right, Carlotta. Sofia is resourceful and she’s loyal. She is our safest bet. But we need to be careful not to leave any traces that could lead back to us."

"Of course," I agree, relief washing over me. "So, how do we get to her without being traced?"

Ettore thinks for a moment, then says, "There might be a way – some men I can hire through discreet means."

"Can we afford that?" I ask, biting my lip in concern.

"We can," he assures me. "I'll transfer them money from my offshore account. We just can't use the funds directly because any transaction on the card or any withdrawals come with a location."

"Okay," I nod, feeling a glimmer of hope. "How do we find these men?"

Ettore's expression turns grim. "The dark web."

The words send a shiver down my spine. “And… you know how to access it?” I ask, a tremble in my voice. The dark web is a dangerous place where weapons, drugs and humans can be bought and sold with the push of a button.

“I do,” Ettore states with a quiet confidence.

I nod, not wanting to ask any further questions. If it means getting the help we need and ensuring our safety, then we’ll do what we must.

"Let's do it," I say, standing behind him as he looks into the screen of his laptop, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. We need to contact Sofia as soon as possible.”

He looks up at me, placing his hand over mine to squeeze it once before turning back to the screen.

As his fingers run across the keyboard, I stand beside him, my heart pounding in my chest, trying to focus on the hum of the air conditioning unit and not the enormity of what we're about to do. I swallow hard, my throat dry.

I don’t know what kind of men we can hire on the dark web, but I'm afraid of how they plan to contact Sofia.

Finally, Ettore looks up, his blue eyes meeting mine. There's a reassurance in his gaze that steadies me, reminding me that together, we are strong. He nods, then clicks enter, and we are plunged into the dark web.

The screen flickers with a chaotic flurry of images and text – illegal marketplaces, untraceable murders for hire, and countless other illicit temptations. My stomach churns at the sight of this anonymous underbelly, seedy and dark.

"Here," Ettore says, pointing to an obscure forum dedicated to discreet communication. "This is where we'll find the men we need."

I lean closer, trying to decipher the garbled text and images. It looks like some chat rooms are populated by anonymous users.

Before I can ask what this is, Ettore starts typing. “Need discreet muscle for a job. Serious inquiries only.”

My breath catches as the first response pops up: “My team is available, and we work fast. We are top professionals. What's your offer for a two-man team?”

Ettore names a figure that makes my eyes widen. He glances at me, a fierce grin on his lips. “Don't worry, I'll transfer it from an offshore account. Untraceable, just like them.”

Before I argue that we have no way of ensuring these men can be trusted, Ettore is finalizing details with a user named “Specter6”. Meetup location, timeline, and payment within a day.

My heart pounds as Ettore logs out of the chat. What have we gotten into? But his arm wraps around me, pulling me close against his chest.

“It's done, amore mio. Now, we can finally talk to Sofia.” His tone brokers no argument.

I nod, throat tight. If Ettore trusts these men, then I will, too. He kisses my forehead, warmth and reassurance in his touch.

“It will be alright,” he murmurs. “You'll see.”