Chasing Sofia

Sofia’s POV

It was my wedding day.

I looked in the mirror, my eyes trailing down the seam of my long white dress that was probably more expensive than half of the attires in my closet. The dress was gifted to me by my fiancé's father, whom I never met. In fact, I was just knowing his name today when my step father gave me the dress and revealed to me the family I was getting married to. The family of Blake Crow of the Crow Cartel, the most brutal mob in this part of the world.

But I wasn’t going to marry him, I knew that for sure. I had my whole life ahead of me and I would be damned if I allowed my stepfather, who has treated me badly ever since our mother died, to spoil my life right when I was in the middle of a murder investigation. My mother and father were killed at the same spot in New York City, which was ruled as an awful coincidence even though the last time I ever saw them together was the day that they got divorced when my twin sister and I were 12 years old.

When they told us that, it didn’t settle well with me and I knew I had to find out why they were together the night that they were murdered and who killed them. So when my step father told me that I had to get married to a member of the Crow Cartel, I knew that I had to run away. I couldn’t throw away my entire life to be the wife of a man that was going to enslave me and put a stop to my life, right when I was in the middle of an investigation that kept me up at night.

“Are you done?” Olivia, my step sister, peeked into my room. She was dressed in a beige long gown, her hair put up in a bun and her face adorned with makeup.

Even though we looked exactly alike, I have been told several times that she was the more attractive twin. It didn’t bother me that much because to me, beauty wasn’t what defined someone.

“I think so,” I replied as I brushed my bangs and the strands of hair that fell in my shoulders.

She came into the room and stood behind me, “I am so happy that you are getting married, Sofia.”

“To the man I have never met, or even know what he looks like.” I scoffed.

“Don’t forget who you are doing it for.”

I rolled my eyes as I looked away from her. Our stepfather, Ronaldo, has hated me ever since our mother died. I didn’t know why, because I tried to stay out of his business as much as I could but I guess that wasn’t enough. It was to no surprise that he chose me instead of Sofia to marry off to a member of the biggest and most ruthless mafia gang even though I wasn’t the one that pissed them off. He was using me to pay off a loan which was funny because ever since we moved here, I have tried to steer away from the mafia as much as possible.

“For the man that has emotionally abused us since mum died?” I raised a brow. “Sure, I know who I am doing it for.”

“Come on,” she drawled, adjusting my hair which I swatted away. “You will make a beautiful bride and maybe, this is going to be the thing that will steer you away from the obsession you have with our parent's death.”

“You know, Olivia, you might be okay with never knowing why your parents were mysteriously murdered, but I do and I am going to find it out. So if you don’t want to help me then please, steer the hell away from me.”

“We will see how you will do that within the walls of the most protected house in town.” She smirked before she sashayed out of the room, banging the door on her way out.

Sometimes, it baffled me that we were once in the same womb and we grew up together because she was the devil incarnate. She never liked me and tried to pit our stepfather against me every chance she got for reasons I didn't know and didn't even want to find out. It was the reason I didn't tell her that I was planning to escape and leave town for New York to live there while I continued to investigate my parent’s murder.

The plan to have her see me in my wedding dress was checked, so I hastily stripped it off my body. I had a simple pair of jeans and shirt under the dress that would make it easier for me to run. I tried my hair back and removed all of the pins before I headed to my window, where a rope was set in place to help me descend down. I waited for the time to strike. When it was two pm, it was going to be time for everyone to start moving to the wedding venue. They were all going to be at the front of the house while they arranged for my exit.

When it was time and there was no one in sight, I pushed the rope down and started to get down, my hands and legs shaking as I did so. I tried to push the thoughts of what Ronaldo was going to do to me when he caught me trying to run away, and focused on what would happen if I didn’t succeed. I was going to be tied to a man, possibly old and crusty, for the rest of my God given life. I pictured the nights we were going to spend together and how he was going to treat me like a bag of garbage, like the way the mafia treated all of the women under them.

When I got down successfully, I sighed knowing I was done with the first hard part without falling and breaking a bone. I had disabled the wires of the security fence earlier in the day and I hoped that they hadn’t fixed it while I was getting ready. I climbed on the wall with the rope I had fixed there, slowly while I tried to steady my bones but I kept slipping away.

“Holy fuck.” I looked down at my shoes and realized that they were slippery. I had to abandon them. I heard the loud creak of my room open, and Ronaldo’s voice calling out my name. He was going to notice that I wasn’t there any second from now. The man was smarter than I gave him credit for.

I heard his voice getting closer to the window, halfway through my climb on the wall. I felt my skin start to bruise, the pain of my bare feet scraping against the rough wall, but I didn't stop. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. While I was on top of the wall, I crossed over the fence and right then, I heard the voice of my stepfather by the window of my room. I turned to face him, and his face held the most vicious scowl I have ever seen him wear.

He was going to kill me. I just knew it. I heard him curse a few words in Italian as he turned back hastily, and then I knew I didn't have time. I jumped out of the wall, twisting my leg in the process but I didn't let that slow me down. I ran as fast as I could to leave the vicinity of my stepfather’s house, to get to the car that I bought after I had sold my old car so he wouldn’t be able to track me down. I had it filled with gas and I parked it two roads away from my house. I planned to drive it to the next city where I was going to take a plane and fly to New York. My flight was leaving in three hours, so I had to be as fast as I could.

I ran until my legs felt numb. The sound of cars getting closer to me as I ran made me nearly give up. Maybe they were going to catch me, and all of this would be in vain. I had one street remaining and if I could drown the pain of my bleeding feet and my twisted ankle, I was going to make it in time. I remember coming to my father’s house the day they were killed and finding their bloody bodies on the floor. I remembered the bloodcurdling scream Olivia let out when she saw them, and the stench of the house.

I was almost there.

I remembered the fresh pain, knowing that I was never going to hear my father’s voice and I was never going to be in the arms of my mother. I remembered how the pain hit me like a truck, and how I slumped down to the floor and lost consciousness.

I had gotten to the car.

I brought out the key in the front pocket of my trousers and inserted it into the car, then opened it. I got in and quickly ignited the car to life before I zoomed off. The sound of the cars fading away while they went in the wrong direction brought me back to reality as I drove away to the next city, glad that my awful streak of luck hadn’t decided to run out today.