Chapter 4: The Villa of Her Own

The next morning, Giada began the lottery claim process as soon as the offices opened, bringing her identification, her tickets, and every receipt she had kept. Once the prize had been verified and the payment arrangements completed, she went to First National Bank to deal with the transfer.

The taxes took a chunk. She made a charitable donation that brought the total down further. When the dust settled, the final number staring back at her from the bank screen was $40 million.

Forty million dollars. Clean. Hers. Untouchable.

The senior bank manager, a silver haired man in his sixties named Mr. Patterson, treated her like royalty from the moment the amount was confirmed. He pulled out a leather chair for her, offered her espresso from the executive machine, and spoke in the smooth, polished tone of a man who had handled large accounts his entire career.

"Ms. Vitale, with this kind of capital, I would strongly recommend our Premier Wealth Management program. We have a team of advisors who can structure your portfolio for maximum growth with minimal risk. We also have exclusive investment products that are only available to our high net worth clients."

Giada took a sip of the espresso. It was excellent. She set the cup down and smiled at him warmly.

"Mr. Patterson, I appreciate the offer. I really do. But I won't be needing any wealth management services today."

"I understand your caution, but these products are specifically designed for someone in your position. The returns alone could generate six figures annually without touching the principal."

"That sounds wonderful. And in a normal world, I might be interested. But I have very specific plans for this money, and none of them involve sitting in a portfolio waiting to grow." She kept her voice friendly but firm. No room for negotiation.

In three months there wouldn't be a stock market. There wouldn't be banks. There wouldn't be portfolios or returns or compound interest. There would be ice and darkness and people killing each other for a can of beans.

Mr. Patterson nodded professionally and didn't push further. He was too experienced for that. He processed the transfer, handed her the paperwork, shook her hand, and wished her well.

Giada walked out of the bank into the sunlight with $40 million in her account and a list of things she needed to do before the day was over.

She needed a shelter. A real one. Reinforced, fortified, stocked to the ceiling with everything she would need to survive the end of the world. And she needed it somewhere the Vitale family wouldn't be waiting outside every morning with another demand.

She pulled out her phone and searched for real estate listings in Maplewood Estates, a gated community on the other side of the city. In her previous life, its higher ground had kept it clear of the worst flooding, and several of its detached houses had remained standing after the first wave of storms.

High ground, solid construction, and enough distance from her old life to let her get on with the new one. That was what she needed.

She dialed the first real estate agency in the search results and checked her notes while it rang.

"Hello? Yes. I'm looking for a property in Maplewood Estates. Something detached. Something big. And I'm paying cash."

The real estate agent's name was Christine, and she had the hungry look of a woman who worked entirely on commission. The moment Giada said the word "cash," Christine's eyes lit up like slot machines hitting triple sevens.

"Maplewood Estates is one of the most desirable communities in the city," Christine explained as they drove through the front gates. "Excellent schools, low crime rate, beautiful landscaping. Most of the homes here are townhouses or semis, but we do have one detached villa that just came back on the market. The previous buyer's financing fell through."

"Show me that one."

The villa sat at the end of a quiet cul de sac, set apart from the neighboring houses by a wide yard and a stone wall.

Three stories, five bedrooms, a double garage, and a basement that ran the full length of the house. Giada checked the slope of the ground, the roof, and the basement walls, then asked Christine about the water supply and the roads leading out of the community.

By the time they returned to the living room, she had made her decision.

"The asking price is $1.6 million," Christine began carefully. "But the seller is motivated. There's room for negotiation if you're interested in putting in an offer."

"One point five million. Cash. No financing conditions. I'd like the keys today."

Christine blinked, then reached for her phone.

The seller accepted. While Christine arranged the documents and the people needed to handle the sale, Giada reviewed the previous buyer's inspection report and asked about the few points that concerned her. By late afternoon, the transfer was arranged and the keys were in her hand.

She stood alone in the empty living room, feeling their cool weight against her palm. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, and for the first time in four years, there was nobody waiting to tell her what needed cleaning or whose dinner was late.

She put down her purse and called Ironworks Construction.

"This is Frank."

"Frank, my name is Giada. I just bought a villa in Maplewood Estates and I need a full renovation completed in two months. Are you interested?"

"Depends on the scope. What kind of renovation are we talking about?"

"I want reinforced walls and doors, ballistic grade windows, and a basement that can be sealed against contaminated air. Independent power, water storage, filtration, and backup systems that work without the grid."

The line went quiet.

"Ma'am, that's not a renovation. That's a bunker."

"Call it whatever you want. Can you come and look at the house?"

Frank arrived before dinner with a notebook and a tape measure. He listened as she walked him through the villa, spent a long time examining the basement, and asked enough questions to convince her he understood what she wanted.

"The basic reinforcement work could run north of three hundred thousand," he told her afterward. "Maybe three fifty with expedite fees. But that's not a quote for everything you've described. For the power, filtration, structural changes, all of it, I'll need our director and an engineer involved."

"Then bring them in. I'll set aside four hundred thousand for the initial reinforcement work, but I want the complete plan and a proper budget before anything starts."

Frank nodded. "I'll have the office call you in the morning. We can get the survey underway tomorrow."

Giada locked the door after he left and opened her notebook. The house was bought, the renovation was moving, and she still had nearly three months to fill the place with everything she needed. Once the work began, she would rent somewhere nearby and find a warehouse for deliveries.

The Vitales' next meal, their bills, their arguments, and their survival would finally be their own responsibility.

Unfortunately, they had not reached the same conclusion.

News of the cash purchase traveled quickly. By the next morning, Mrs. Chen, who lived three doors down and had known Teresa Vitale for years, was on the phone congratulating her.

"Your daughter in law bought the big villa at the end of our street! One point five million in cash. You must be so proud."

Teresa nearly dropped the phone.

"My daughter in law? That ungrateful woman divorced my son two days ago and walked out without a thought for the child."

Mrs. Chen's cheerful tone faltered. "Oh. I didn't realize. Christine only mentioned the sale."

"One point five million?" Teresa repeated, barely hearing her. "Are you sure?"

"In cash. No mortgage."

Teresa lowered herself into a kitchen chair. The woman who had handed over most of her wages every month, the woman who had left without asking for a cent, had somehow bought a house worth more than anything this family owned.

By the time the call ended, Teresa had the address written down and Enzo's number on her screen.