"And you can never contact me. Never." Her eyes glistened. "It would lead them straight to you. Do you understand??"
The realization of what I was asking, what we were risking, settled heavily between us. I would be leaving the only home, the only life I'd ever known. Leaving Giulia, the only person who had ever truly loved me.
"I should get ready," I said, my decision made. "I need simple clothes, cash..a way to change my appearance."
While Giulia gathered supplies, I opened my jewelry box and selected only the pieces that wouldn't be immediately missed, a pair of pearl earrings, a gold bracelet my father had given me last Christmas and I'd never worn.
Things that could be sold without raising flags.
As I changed into jeans and a plain black sweater, clothes Giulia had smuggled in for me months ago, anticipating this day, I caught sight of the garden through my window again. The roses were in bloom, blood-red against the green. My father's pride.
"Little roses have the sharpest thorns." he used to tell me when I was small, before his eyes went cold and his voice hardened. Before I became just another asset in his empire.
A knock at my door froze us both.
"Signorina April?" It was Dante, my father's right-hand man. "Your father requests your presence. The guests are arriving."
Giulia and I exchanged panicked glances.
"Tell him I'm still getting ready," I called, forcing my voice to remain steady. "The seamstress is adjusting my dress. I'll be down in twenty minutes."
A pause. "Very well. But don't make him wait longer. Russo just arrived."
My blood went cold. He was already here.
"Go," Giulia whispered once Dante's footsteps faded. "The service entrance by the kitchen. The truck will be there in ten minutes."
I shoved the jewelry into my pockets and grabbed the small bag she'd prepared.. cash, a burner phone, a change of clothes, and a crude black hair dye we'd need to use at our first stop.
"I love you," I told her, throat tight with tears I couldn't afford to shed. "I'll find a way to let you know I'm safe."
"No!" she insisted. "Not for at least a year. Promise me."
I nodded, though the thought of not speaking to her for so long tore at my heart.
She pressed something into my palm, a small silver locket. Inside was a tiny photo of us, taken on my sixteenth birthday.
"So you remember who loves you," she whispered.
I shook my head. "No! Keep it... I have no reason to ever forget you."
She smiled.
I hugged her fiercely, memorizing the scent of her lavender water perfume, the feel of her thin shoulders under my arms.
"Okay now go," she said, pushing me gently. "Now."
I slipped into the hallway, heart hammering. The house was alive with activity, staff rushing about, the murmur of voices from downstairs. Music drifted up from the grand salon where Milan's most dangerous men gathered to celebrate a birthday girl who would never arrive.
I'd spent my life navigating this house unseen when I wanted to be. Now that skill would save my life.
The kitchen was chaos, waiters preparing trays, chefs shouting orders. No one noticed the birthday girl in jeans slipping through to the service door. No one but Paolo, the old gardener who'd taught me to grow roses. His eyes widened when he saw me, then darted to the exit. He knew. And he said nothing as I passed.
Outside, the evening air was cool against my flushed skin. I pressed myself against the shadows of the wall, avoiding the patrolling guards. The delivery entrance was fifty meters away—an eternity of exposed ground where anyone might spot me.
I counted to three, then ran.
My heartbeat drowned out everything but the crunch of gravel under my sneakers. Twenty meters. Ten. The shadows of the gate loomed ahead, and with them, freedom.
A truck rumbled into view, my salvation.
I reached the gate just as a shout erupted from the house behind me. They'd discovered I was missing. I had seconds, nothing more.
The truck stopped. The driver, a middle-aged man with kind eyes, nodded once. I climbed in, ducking below the dashboard as he drove through the gate, past the guards who barely glanced our way.
As the De Luca estate disappeared behind us, I allowed myself one shuddering breath.
April De Luca died that night in an empty bedroom, leaving behind a red dress and a legacy of blood.
Hannah Rossi was born on a delivery truck rumbling toward Tuscany, with nothing but a small bag of cash and a clean slate...
A new life.
I wouldn't learn until later what my escape cost Giulia... By then, it would be too late for anything but nightmares and regret.
By then, I would understand that freedom always had a price.
And mine was paid in blood.