43. Carlotta
Chapter 43
Carlotta
I observe Sofia taking in the cramped motel room we now call home. Her eyes sweep over the peeling wallpaper, the dingy bed sheets, and the single flickering light bulb that barely illuminates our surroundings. She turns to me, her brown eyes clouded with worry.
"Carlotta, what's going on? Why are you living like this?" she asks, probably hurt at how the mighty have fallen.
I open my mouth and close it again, not knowing where to start.
“Fuck that,” my best friend rushes over, taking my hands in her own. “Why haven’t you contacted me? After the heist, I was worried sick when your father called. I thought you would at least update me, considering how…”
She doesn’t finish her sentence, but I can hear the pain in her voice and know what she meant to say. Considering how she was instrumental in orchestrating it all, I can understand why we’ve diminished her role in our story by not keeping her in the loop.
“Sof,” I tell her. “I’ve been thinking about you every single moment. But, Ettore thought your phone could be tapped. Ugo and my father probably expected that I’d reach out to you if no one else.”
Sofia's eyes widen with realization. "You're right. They would have expected me to be a weak link. That's clever of Ettore," she acknowledges, a hint of admiration in her voice.
I glance over at Ettore, who's been silently watching our conversation, his expression unreadable as usual.
“So, what happened after that night?” Sofia asks. “Did you get the art?”
“We did,” Ettore nods. “All the art is secure in a warehouse my family owns.”
“And now?” her eyes move between both of us.
Taking a deep breath, I brace myself to reveal the truth. "Sofia, Ettore and I... we're in love. We've decided to leave our old lives behind because we know our families will never accept us together."
Her eyes widen slightly, but she doesn't look entirely surprised. Perhaps she had sensed the connection between Ettore and me all along.
"From the moment I met Ettore," I continue, "I knew he was different. There's something about him that draws me in and makes me feel safe and loved in ways I never thought possible. I know this sounds insane, but if I can’t be with Ettore, I can’t be with anyone else."
Sofia takes a moment to process my words, her gaze shifting from me to Ettore, who stands silently by the window, his blue eyes locked on mine.
"Carlotta, you deserve happiness, and if Ettore is the one who can give that to you, I'll support you both no matter what," she says softly, placing a reassuring hand on my arm. "You've always been there for me, and I won't abandon you now. Tell me, what is it you need?"
“Oh, Sof,” I say, tears pooling in my eyes. I might not have family, but I have her . And that is more than enough.
Ettore moves gracefully to the small table in the corner, a bottle of whiskey in hand. He pours three glasses and brings them over to us, handing us each one.
"Thank you," Sofia murmurs softly, taking the glass from Ettore with a nod. She turns her full attention back to me, her brown eyes filled with empathy and understanding. It's remarkable how she can stand by my side so unconditionally, even when faced with the dangerous reality of our situation.
It’s not just our lives that are in danger; by associating with us, hers is, too.
"Carlotta," she says, sipping her drink gently, "I know it won't be easy, but we'll figure this out together." The warmth in her voice wraps around me like a comforting blanket. “You reached out to me now. Why? Did something happen?”
"Things haven't been easy for us," I confess, my voice barely above a whisper. "We've been hiding away at Ettore’s cabin, but Ettore's father's men found our last hideout. We're running low on money and I pawned off all our gold, but we know we can't stay here much longer. We don’t know where to go, for now, Sof."
I glance at Ettore, his broad shoulders tense and a subtle worry creasing his forehead. He's feeling the pressure, a burden we both carry, though he tries to keep it hidden beneath the surface.
Sofia's eyes fill with sympathy. "I have some cash saved up that I can give you," she offers without hesitation. "And my grandmother's old cabin… it's been unused since she passed away. It's hidden deep in the woods. You two could stay there for a while, at least until you figure out your next move."
Ettore and I exchange glances, his eyes wide with hope, mirroring my own. Our troubles suddenly seem much smaller, more manageable. I reach out, grasping Sofia's hand tightly, my gratitude spilling forth. "Thank you, Sofia. I can't tell you how much this means to us.”
Her fingers squeeze mine in reassurance, a silent promise that she'll do whatever it takes to help us. "You're my closest friend, Carlotta. I'd do anything for you and Ettore."
Ettore's gaze lingers on our intertwined hands, an array of emotions flickering across his face before he speaks. "Grazie, Sofia. Your generosity won't be forgotten," he says, his voice low and restrained. “With time, I will find buyers for the art, and Sofia and I are thinking of leaving the country to find someplace safe where our families won’t find us.”
“Whatever you need,” Sofia nods in his direction. “But, I know just how you can thank me.”
“Anything,” Ettore promises, stepping forward.
“Next time,” Sofia’s eyes glimmer with mirth. “Promise you’ll try not to kidnap me.”
“How about we start by buying some burner phones?” Ettore grins in her direction.
“Lead the way,” Sofia downs her whiskey and jumps up, digging into her purse and pulling out hundreds of dollars.