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ODESSA POV

“Ma’am, for your safety and the child’s, we have to separate you two now.”

The man talking was tall. Six feet at least. Broad shoulders, black gear, rifle in his hands. His name was Aaron. He was loading bullets into a rifle on my kitchen counter.

Click. Click. Click.

His eyes never stopped moving from the window, door, hallway, and back to me.

I was still in my t-shirt from bed. No bra. No shoes. Five years of safe houses and fake names and sleeping with a gun under my pillow. It ended tonight.

“Give me a few minutes with her. Please,” I begged him. My voice was shaking. “It could be months before I see her again.”

I looked him in the eyes. Maybe if he had a daughter. Maybe if he understood. He didn’t blink.

“Auntie, where are we going this time?”

Small hands grabbed mine. Elena. My baby. Five years old. Dark hair like mine. Eyes like his. She was looking up at me, scared, but trying to be brave for me.

God, the word ‘auntie’ ripped my heart out. My own daughter had to call me auntie so no one could take her. So no one could use her to get to me. To get to him.

“Baby, I—”

“My job is to keep you and the kid alive,” Aaron cut me off. He held his rifle close to his chest. Ready. “And you’re making it hard. We move in 10 minutes.”

I dropped to my knees. Pulled Elena into my chest. She smelled like baby shampoo and fear. I was supposed to be Mother of the Year. Instead I was the kind of mother who had to give her kid away to keep her breathing.

“Auntie, please, I want to go with you.” Tears were running down her face. She was holding me so tight her little nails hurt my skin.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak. The guilt was choking me. How do you tell your child you love her while you’re abandoning her?

“I’ll be back, baby,” I whispered into her hair. I was lying and we both knew it. “Just give me a little time. When I get back, I promise I’ll never leave you again. Never.”

I used to think I could outrun my past. Outrun the night I faked my death and ran with his child in my stomach. I ruined my own life. I made peace with that.

What I can’t live with is Elena paying for it. My recklessness. My choices. She deserved a normal life. School. Friends. Birthday parties. Not bullets and bodyguards.

And I would burn the world down to give it to her.

Another woman walked in. Black gear, same as Aaron. Calm face. She didn’t ask. She just held her arms out to Elena.

I had to let go. My arms didn’t want to. My heart didn’t want to. But I did. I put my daughter into a stranger’s arms and watched her little legs wrap around the woman’s waist.

“We have five minutes, ma’am,” Aaron said again.

My voice was gone. The words were there, but my throat wouldn’t push them out. Be brave. I love you. Don’t forget me. All of it stayed stuck behind my teeth.

“Goodbye, Auntie!” Elena called over the woman’s shoulder as they walked out.

Why didn’t I run after her? Why didn’t I grab her and tell her the truth?

Because I was terrified. Because this wasn’t the first time I’d left her. Because every time I kept her with me, people died.

Aaron’s hand landed on my shoulder. Hard. Not mean. Just real. “That’s enough thinking, ma’am. It’s time to go.”

He looked me in the eyes and held out a pistol. It was small, black and loaded. Different from the one I had under my pillow.

“This is for you.”

I took the pistol from his hands.

It was heavier than I thought it would be. Cold metal. My fingers closed around the grip and my hand shook. I hoped he didn’t see it.

I nodded at him. That was all I could do. Words were still stuck in my throat.

For five years, men like Aaron had kept me alive. Safe houses. New names. Guards outside my door. I was always the one being protected. The one they hid. The one they told to stay down and stay quiet.

“Stay behind me,” Aaron said. “Eyes open. Be at alert.”

The air felt tense, as everyone was trying to move out of the building carefully without drawing attention.

Two armed personnel, stood at my side, their posture and eyes at alert, scanning and surroundings.

My legs didn’t want to work. Each step felt wrong. Like I was leaving a piece of myself behind in that house. In the kitchen where Elena ate cereal. In the bedroom where I just held her.

A black SUV waited at the curb. The back door was already open. Another man stood next to it, one hand on his earpiece, one hand on his gun. He wasn’t looking at me, but was looking past me. Watching the street.

We slid into the car fast. No words. Doors shut. Locks clicked. The engine was already running.

The drive was long. I didn’t look out the window. I didn’t ask where we were going. I just stared at my hands in my lap. The gun Aaron gave me was still there, heavy against my thigh.

All I could think about was Elena’s face. The way she looked at me when the woman took her. Not crying. Worse than crying. Defeated. Like she knew I was leaving again. Like she knew I always would.

Auntie couldn’t do anything. That’s what she must’ve been thinking. Because to her, I wasn’t Mommy. I was just Auntie. The woman who showed up, held her, then disappeared.

My chest hurt so bad I thought it would split open.

“We’re here,” Aaron said from the front seat.

I looked up.

A tall building stood in front of us. Big. White stone. Black iron fence around it. Lights on in every window. It looked clean. Expensive. The kind of place where bad things didn’t happen. The kind of place that was a lie, because bad things happen everywhere.

I stood there for a second, just looking. Part of me wanted to memorize it. The other part wanted to run.

“Let’s go in quick, ma’am,” Aaron said. His hand was light on my back, pushing me forward. Not forcing. Guiding.

A man in a suit was waiting at the front door. Older. Gray hair. Kind eyes. A butler. He bowed his head a little when he saw me.

“Miss Odessa. Welcome. We have a room ready for you. You can wash up. We have food if you’re hungry.”

I didn’t answer. I just followed him. My feet made no sound on the marble floor. The house smelled like lemons and wood polish. Safe smells. Fake smells.

The room was big. Bed bigger than my whole apartment. Bathroom with towels folded like swans. A plate of fruit on the table. Water. Bread. Cheese. Like I was a guest. Like I wasn’t hiding.

I lay down on the bed. The mattress was soft. Too soft. I wasn’t used to soft. I closed my eyes and tried to stop thinking. It didn’t work.

A knock. The butler again. He had a phone in his hand.

“Good evening, ma’am. Boss would like to speak with you.”

I sat up fast. My heart jumped. I took the phone. My hand was sweating.

“Massimo,” I said. My voice was flat and tired. “Why did you bring me to a different house this time?”

“Hello to you too, Topolina,” he laughed. I could hear the smile in his voice. I could also picture him rolling his eyes at me. He always did that. Topolina. Little mouse. He’d called me that since the day he found me five years ago, bleeding and half-dead in an alley.

“Why didn’t you tell me before you sent your men to my house?” I asked. I didn’t laugh back. I couldn’t. “You show up unannounced. You take my kid. You bring me here. I deserve a warning.”

I should be grateful. I knew that. For five years, Massimo kept his word. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep her safe. No one will touch you. He never broke that promise. Not once. Not when Rossi’s men came. Not when the cops asked questions. Not when I had nightmares and called him at 3 a.m.

“How are you, Topolina?” he asked, ignoring my question. His voice was warm. Careful. Like he was talking to a scared animal.

“I need all these games to end, Massimo,” I said. I dropped down onto the small sofa next to the bed. My body felt heavy. My head hurt. “The hiding. The running. The new houses. I’m tired.”

He was quiet for a second. Then he said it. The thing he always said when I got like this.

“It’s not too late to marry me, Topolina.”

His voice wasn’t playful now. It was serious. Sure. Like he’d been waiting to say it all night.

“You don’t get it,” I said. My fingers tightened around the phone. “Marrying you doesn’t stop them. It paints a bigger target on our backs. You think your ring is a shield?”

I couldn’t do that to him. He’d done enough. He’d given me money. A name to hide behind. A place for Elena. He didn’t deserve my mess. He didn’t deserve to die because of me.

“No,” he said. His voice was low now. Firm. The kind of voice that made men listen. “I am the shield, amore mio. My name. My house. My bed. No one touches you under my roof. Not while I’m breathing.”

The room went quiet. So quiet I could hear the clock on the wall. I could hear my own heart.

“You’re not scared of them hurting me,” he said. Softer now. Like he knew it would hurt. “You’re scared of wanting this. Of wanting me. Because if you say yes, you can’t run anymore. You can’t go back to him again.”

He was right.

My heart was somewhere else. It was back in that office, with a man who thought I was dead. A man I betrayed. A man who would kill me if he ever saw me again.

That was my excuse. The only one I had left. I couldn’t love Massimo because I was still in love with a ghost.

I pressed my lips together. So hard they hurt, and I tasted blood.

He waited.

I said nothing.