Go, go

Go, go
CHAPTER 99

~ Camilla

I pulled on my clothes and the words Go. Go. Go echoed in my head. I didn’t pack a bag. The thought was a death sentence. Stephano noticed everything. A missing suitcase, an empty hanger, a cleared-out drawer, it would be a flare gun screaming my betrayal. He would hunt me down before the Uber even crossed the city limits. So I moved on pure, animal instinct. I picked my  purse. My phone. My wallet. That was it. That was my entire life, condensed into the contents of a handbag. My hands trembled so violently I could barely type the Uber request into my phone. A Toyota Corolla. License plate... The details blurred. I didn't care if it was a spaceship, as long as it took me away from here. 

I slipped out the front door, the click of the lock behind me sounding like a gunshot in the morning quiet. I didn't look back at the sprawling modern prison, at the manicured lawn he was so proud of. I just started walking, fast, toward the meeting point at the end of the long driveway, my shoulders hunched against the chill, or maybe against the phantom weight of his gaze.

Every second was agony. What if he’d forgotten something? What if he came back? What if the Uber canceled? I pulled my phone out, my thumb hovering over Alex’s name. I didn’t press call. I couldn't hear his voice now. If I did, I might collapse right here on the asphalt. A silver car slowed, the driver checking his phone, then me. I didn’t wait for him to confirm. I yanked the door open and slid inside, the smell of cheap air freshener and clean upholstery a shocking contrast to the sterile air of the house.

“The address is set?” the driver asked, bored.

“Just drive,” I managed to choke out, my voice strangled. “Please. Just drive.”

As the car pulled away, carrying me from the curb, a sob finally ripped from my throat. I clamped a hand over my mouth, stifling it. 
I was leaving him.



Inside of the Uber, I drew in a long breath of air. It smelled like stale coffee, cheap vanilla air freshener, and somebody’s forgotten breakfast sandwich. And I loved it. God, I loved it. I sank into the back seat like it was a hiding place carved out just for me. There were crumbs on the seat and a slight rattle in the air vent, but it wasn’t Stephano’s world. Nothing in here reminded me of him. Nothing here had his fingerprints. It was ordinary. It was human. And right now, ordinary felt like salvation. But even in my cocoon of blessed mediocrity, my nerves were tap-dancing under my skin. My leg kept bouncing uncontrollably. My fingers couldn’t stay still. I kept twisting my phone in my hand like it was a lifeline and a bomb at the same time.

I stared at the little blinking dot on the map, the diner on Eighth Street. The place where Alex was waiting. The place where I would finally tell him everything. The place where I would run away from this whole spiraling chaos and start something normal. Something safe. Something predictable. Something that wasn’t Stephano. But the more I thought about it, the harder my breathing got. The Uber driver had his music turned low, some soft old R&B humming through the speakers, but every time the bass hit, my heartbeat tried to sync with it, and it was ridiculous because nothing about me was in sync. I was a cracked phone screen pretending to function.

I pressed my palm to my stomach instinctively, like I needed to remind myself that I wasn’t alone anymore. Not in my body. Not in my choices.

Pregnant. Pregnant with Stephano’s baby. Every time the word formed in my head, my pulse stuttered.

And Alex… Alex already knew. And he didn’t run. He didn’t scream. He didn’t tell me I was insane or ruined or lost. He said he would help me. He said we would raise the baby together. He said he loved me enough to build a new life with me. He said all of that, but god, what if he changed his mind? What if seeing me face-to-face made everything too real? What if he realized the baby wasn’t his and never would be? What if he regretted choosing me over normalcy?

“Ma’am, you okay back there?” the driver asked suddenly, glancing into the rearview mirror.

I jumped like I’d been tasered. “Y-yeah. Sorry. Just… long morning.”

He gave a sympathetic nod. “Happens.”

Happens? No, sir. Being knocked up by your billionaire boss who may or may not be a sociopath absolutely does not “happen.”

I sat back, rubbing my palms on my thighs, trying to ignore how sweaty they were. My stomach twisted every few seconds, part nausea, part anxiety, part baby (maybe). I needed to sit down with Alex, take his hands, look him in the eye, and explain that I was ready. Ready to leave. Ready to choose us. Ready to trust someone who wasn’t toxic.

I leaned forward, checking the street signs as we passed them. Two blocks left. One.

My heart was sprinting now. My anxiety didn’t care that I was close. It felt like the closer I got, the more my body convinced itself something awful was going to happen.

What if Stephano noticed I was gone already? What if he sent someone? What if I wasn’t fast enough? What if I was being unbelievably stupid?

Stop. Stop, Camilla. Don’t think like that.

Alex loves you. He loves you enough to raise another man’s baby. He loves you enough to run away with you. He…

“There,” I said suddenly, spotting the familiar Benz parked near the diner. Relief shot through me like warm electricity.

“Stop here,” I blurted.

The driver barely had time to slow before I shoved a wad of crumpled bills toward the front. I wasn’t sticking around for change. I wasn’t risking a second more in the open. My paranoia had risen to an Olympic level. I pushed the door open and practically jumped out, almost twisting my ankle, but I didn’t care. The air slapped my face, cold and sharp enough to wake up the tiny sliver of courage hiding in me.

Alex’s car. It was like spotting a lighthouse after weeks lost at sea. My pace quickened. I hugged my sweater tighter, scanning the street with jittery eyes even though it looked utterly, painfully ordinary. No black SUVs. No ominous men in suits. No Stephano. No danger. Nothing but a diner, a few pedestrians, a barking dog, and Alex’s car.

I reached the Civic, my breath fogging in the cold air. The engine was idling softly. He must’ve seen I was close. He must’ve stepped inside the diner to grab us a table.

Perfect.
Everything was perfect.

I wrapped my fingers around the handle of the back door,  we always sat in the back together when we talked, and pulled it open, sliding inside before the winter wind could chase me in.

His cologne hit me instantly. Familiar. Comforting. Safe. I exhaled for the first time in what felt like hours.

“Alex…”

The rest of the sentence never made it out. Something moved in the corner of my vision. Before I could register it, a heavy shadow swung toward me, fast.

Then…

CRACK.

It wasn’t a dramatic movie noise. It wasn’t thunder. It wasn’t some metallic clang. It was a blunt, nauseating thud, like a thick piece of wood smashing straight into a melon. A short, sharp sound that vibrated through my skull and shot white lightning behind my eyes. A sound that made my brain jolt inside my head like it had hit the side of a glass jar. The kind of sound that makes your ears ring instantly. The kind of sound that stops all your thoughts mid-sentence. The kind of sound that doesn’t hurt at first, it shocks. My mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Everything inside me froze.

My vision flickered.
Colors smeared.
Shapes warped.
My limbs turned into jelly.

It was like someone had struck a huge gong inside my skull, and the reverberation swallowed every coherent thought I had. I felt myself tipping sideways, my entire body losing strength all at once, like someone pulled a plug inside me.

The last thing I saw, barely, blurry, wrong, was the back of the driver’s seat. And the back of the man sitting in it, turning slowly toward me.

Alex.

My Alex.

But the expression on his face wasn’t shock. It was blank. Then the darkness came, swallowing the ringing in my ears, swallowing my breath, swallowing the last shred of hope I’d carried to him.

Everything went black.