The Don’s Soulmate

44. Ettore

Chapter 44

Ettore

The dim light from the flickering bulb overhead casts long shadows on the peeling wallpaper. Carlotta sits rigidly on the edge of the bed, her delicate hands clasped together so tightly her knuckles turn white. Her doe-eyed green eyes dart anxiously to the clock as the minutes drag on, each tick echoing in the tense silence between us.

I give the room a last sweep. Everything’s packed and ready to go. It’s like we were never here.

I pace the faded carpet; muscles coiled tight as a spring. My cold gaze flickers between the door and the window, watchful for any sign of trouble. I crave a cigar to steady my nerves but don't dare light one, not wanting to draw unwanted attention from the hotel staff.

The rumble of an engine shatters the heavy quiet. Carlotta's eyes meet mine, wide with apprehension. I rush to the window and part the curtains. My heart races as an unfamiliar rental car rolls into view, its headlights slicing through the darkness. Sofia’s face shines through the front window.

Perfect. We're one step closer to vanishing into the night.

“She’s here,” I tell Carlotta, closing the curtain behind me and rushing over to grab the luggage.

"Thank God," Carlotta whispers, her breath hitching in her throat. "I couldn't stand another minute in this place."

"Stay close to me," I warn as we prepare to leave the dingy motel room behind.

"Of course," she says, her voice trembling with fear.

We rush outside, and Sofia already has the boot open. We dump our luggage and get into the car. Carlotta sits in the back, and I take my place beside her in case we have to hide low during our journey.

"Alright, listen carefully," Sofia says, her voice steady as she looks at us through the rear-view mirror. "This car is registered to my name, but you can use it. They won’t trace it to you. At the rental place, there were images of you both on TV. They’re still hunting nationwide, so it’s clear you can’t be seen out and about. I've arranged for my grandmother’s safe house in the mountains. It's remote and well-hidden – perfect for laying low until we can figure out our next move."

Carlotta looks at Sofia, her green eyes filled with gratitude and hope. I nod in agreement, my mind racing with strategies to keep us all safe.

"Thanks again," I say, appreciating Sofia's resourcefulness. "What's the plan now?"

"First, we need to buy supplies. The more you have, the less you have to venture out. We’ll get the burner phones too, so we can stay in touch."

"Understood," I reply, the plan making sense.

"Let's go then," Sofia says, putting the car into reverse.

On the highway, I sense Carlotta's anxiety rising. I place a protective arm around her, feeling an overwhelming need to shield her from any harm. She leans into me, her warmth seeping into my very soul.

The road stretches out before us, a seemingly endless path shrouded in darkness. The only illumination comes from the headlights of passing cars, casting fleeting shadows across our own vehicle. My grip tightens on the seat, the leather creaking beneath my fingers.

"Almost there," Sofia murmurs, her eyes locked on the road ahead. "Just another hour or so."

"Good," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady for Carlotta's sake. She's curled up against me, her breaths shallow and uneven. I can sense her fear, but she's doing her best to hide it. We're all on edge, knowing that every moment we spend on the road increases the likelihood of being caught.

One police checkpoint, and we’re screwed.

"Carlotta," I whisper, brushing my fingers through her hair. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm scared, Ettore," she admits quietly, her voice trembling. "But I trust you. And Sofia."

"That’s good," I say, pulling her closer. My heart swells with love and protectiveness for this woman who has become my entire world.

"Alright," Sofia announces suddenly, slowing down the car. "We're going to make a quick stop at this market to grab some supplies. You two stay here. I’ll get everything you'll need."

A flickering neon sign casts an eerie glow on Sofia's face as she steps out of the car. We know we must remain hidden, so we slide down onto the floor, huddling together behind the seats.

"Stay low," I instruct Carlotta, my voice low and urgent. "And stay quiet."

"Yes," she whispers, her breath warm against my neck.

I can feel the beat of her heart, as rapid and frantic as my own.

From our hidden vantage point on the car floor, Carlotta and I watch through the tinted windows as Sofia moves swiftly through the aisles of the small market. Her eyes scan the shelves with precision, selecting the necessary supplies without hesitation.

The minutes drag on like hours, but finally, Sofia emerges from the store, her arms laden with bags filled with groceries, food, and medicines. I suppress a sigh of relief as she approaches the car, her stride confident and purposeful. My eyes flicker with gratitude at the sight, knowing that Sofia's resourcefulness is our lifeline. If not for her help, Carlotta and I were fucked.

"Everything went smoothly?" I ask as Sofia opens the back door and puts the bags in. She nods and looks around, closing the door behind her before moving ahead to slide back into the driver's seat.

"Smooth as silk," she replies, tossing some more bags into the passenger seat next to her. "I got everything we'll need for now."

She reaches into one of the bags and pulls out three small boxes. My eyes widen in recognition—burner phones. These untraceable devices will provide a crucial means of communication and anonymity, ensuring lines of communication remain open with Sofia, whose help we will very much need in days to come.

"Thanks, Sofia," I say, reaching for the phones with excitement so I can set up during our drive ahead. "These will be invaluable."

"Right," she replies, her eyes glinting. "We can't be too careful these days."

As Carlotta examines the other goods in the bags lying in the back, her fingers tracing the edges of the items, she suddenly gasps and clutches her heart. Her green eyes widen with a mix of surprise and fear, and she looks at me questioningly.

Worried, I put the phones down and reach for her hands. “Carlotta,” I ask nervously. “What's wrong?”