Bella pushed Josef aside and quickly flagged down a taxi, its headlights cutting through the dark night. The moment it stopped, she shoved the door open and practically threw herself inside without a word. The driver, accustomed to hurried passengers, didn't question her hurried demeanor.
As the taxi sped away, Bella sank into the seat, her heart pounding. She looked around, realizing she had no phone, no money—nothing but the earrings. Her fingers trembling as she grasped the delicate pearls. Carefully, she unclasped the earrings, holding them up in her palm. "These are real pearls," she said quietly, her voice edged with a mixture of shame and cunning. "You could easily sell these for two grand. Give me 500 bucks, and drop me off at Hunter's Bar."
The driver, glancing at her expensive dress and the luxurious surroundings, didn't question her. Instead, he nodded silently, understanding her urgency. He rummaged through his wallet and body bag until he came up with the money. She
Minutes later, the taxi pulled up outside Hunter's Bar, which was dark and quiet. Bella hesitated, staring at the closed door. It was only ten in the evening—too early for the bar to be closed, yet it was.
She turned to the driver, her eyes darting around nervously. "I'll give you these heels," she said quickly, her voice strained. "Drive me to Clark Avenue."
They arrived at her modest apartment—the only refuge she had left. It was small, cluttered, yet surprisingly warm, a stark contrast to her chaotic life.
Bella stepped out of the cab, her mind racing. She wanted nothing more than to collapse into her bed and disappear into sleep, but she knew she couldn't. Not yet.
She had to move fast.
Her heart hammered in her chest as she reached the door, fumbling with her keys kept beneath a pot. Every second felt like a countdown. She had to disappear before anyone found her—or before her enemies caught up.
Inside, she closed the door quietly behind her, leaning against it for a moment, trying to catch her breath. The night's chaos was far from over, and she knew she had to plan her next move—fast.
Bella slipped into her black hoodie, jeans, and sneakers with hurried fingers, trying to blend into the anonymity of the city. She moved swiftly through the dimly lit streets, arriving at a 24/7 convenience store. Inside, the flickering fluorescent lights cast long shadows across the shelves.
She approached the cashier, a young man with a cracked, old phone resting on the counter. Without hesitation, Bella's eyes fixed on it.
"How much for your phone?" she asked hastily, voice trembling with urgency.
The young cashier blinked in disbelief. "What?"
"I need a phone. It's an emergency. I think you need to buy a new one," Bella said, her tone firm but strained.
They settled on fifty bucks after a tense moment, and Bella handed over the cash. She quickly dialed Diane's number, and waited anxiously as the call connected.
"Diane... it's me, Bella," she said, fighting back tears. Her voice cracked, but she kept her composure.
"Bella!" Diane's worried voice burst through the line, thick with fear. "Where the fuck are you? Are you okay?"
"I'm not! But don't worry, I'll be fine. How about you? What happened at the bar?"
Diane's voice trembled with anger and dread. "You won't believe it. Some men in suits showed up saying the building was sold. I don't know how that happened. I've been calling the landlord, but he's not answering. They threatened to hurt us."
A cold knot tightened in Bella's stomach. Josef, she thought bitterly.
"Listen, Diane," Bella interrupted quickly, voice sharp with resolve, "I have to leave, disappear. I need to do this so he won't hurt you."
Diane's voice turned fierce. "The Harlingtons? Fuck that! I'll fucking kill your sister!"
Bella's heart clenched. "Sadly, yes. But I have to go. I'm so sorry. I promise I'll make it up to you."
With a heavy heart, she ended the call, her fingers trembling as she slid the phone into her pocket. Without hesitation, she boarded a bus, her mind racing with plans and fears.
A gentle tap on her shoulder jolted Bella awake. The bus driver's voice cut through her fog of exhaustion.
"Hey, Miss, this is the last stop. We've arrived at Alta City."
She blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the grogginess, her mind racing to catch up. She nodded hurriedly, muttering a thank you, and stepped off the bus into the bustling station.
Alta City — known as the city of the rich, the city that never sleeps. It was her refuge of sorts, a place where she could catch a train out of the country or disappear into the shadows of its crowded streets.
She moved swiftly through the station, heading toward the café inside, where she grabbed a quick bite while waiting for her train to another city. Her nerves were taut, her mind replaying the call with Diane, the threats, and her desperate need to vanish.
Suddenly, she felt a presence. She looked up—and her blood ran cold.
Across from her, a man sat calmly in the corner, his face obscured by shadows. He removed his cap slowly, revealing a familiar face.
Michael.
"What the hell?" Bella's voice trembled, her eyes widening in shock and fear.
Michael's expression was grim, a mixture of anger and sarcasm. "Just so you know, Josef had to wake all his employees—including me—to fucking find you in the middle of the night," he said, voice edged with frustration.
Panic surged through Bella's veins. Her heart hammered as her mind raced for an escape. Before she could move, the station's din shifted. A swarm of men in black suits flooded the area—menacing, deliberate, closing in on her and Michael.
Her breath hitched. Josef had found her.
She looked around desperately, searching for an exit, a hiding spot. The station was crowded, yet every glance she cast seemed to betray her—eyes narrowing, hands subtly reaching for concealed weapons.
The station's chaos was deafening—announcements blaring, footsteps pounding, men shouting orders. Bella knew she had seconds before they'd close in.
"Only a fool could think they could escape the Harlingtons," Michael sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Without thinking, Bella turned on her heel and bolted through the station. Her heart pounded like a drum, desperation fueling her frantic steps. But as she pushed forward, her body betrayed her—a sharp pain shot through her side, and her limp became more pronounced. She clutched her aching side, stumbling but refusing to fall.
Michael's grin faded into a look of regret as he watched her hurried retreat. He was flooded with regret as he saw Bella clutching her side and limping on one foot as she ran away.
Bella's hope flickered like a dying flame, but she kept moving, trying to blend in with a crowd of travelers until she reached the station's exit. She spotted a large cart being wheeled out and darted behind it, crouching low to hide. Her breath was ragged, her sides burning.
She slipped out onto the city's longest bridge, the city lights flickering beneath her. She moved cautiously, trying to stay out of sight, until she saw the helicopter—its searchlights piercing the darkness directly above her.
Her blood ran cold. The whirring blades grew louder, and the spotlight cut through the night, illuminating her face.
With every ounce of strength left in her aching body, Bella broke into a sprint, ignoring the searing pain in her side and the numbness creeping into her foot.
Her name echoed across the wind, amplified by the helicopter's loudspeaker.
"Stop on your tracks, Miss Smith. You've got nowhere to go."
She didn't stop. Not yet. Her mind was a whirlwind of fear, determination, and the desperate hope that she could outrun her pursuers.