Chapter 5 Failed Escape

Isabella

The first day, I mapped out the entire room in my head-every crack in the walls, every loose floorboard, every flicker in the dim lighting above. Escape wasn't just about running. It was about planning, thinking ahead, and knowing exactly what I was up against. I couldn't afford mistakes. Not with Matteo De Luca watching me like a hawk.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my eyes flickering over the security camera positioned in the far-left corner of the ceiling. The little red light blinked steadily, a silent reminder that I was under constant surveillance. But cameras had blind spots. Every machine did.

I pushed off the bed, moving to the corner where the lighting fixture flickered ever so slightly. The tiny crack in the casing told me everything I needed to know. It was old, worn down, and with the right tools-tools I didn't have yet-I could use it to my advantage.

My fingers skimmed the surface, feeling along the edges, and then I dropped to my knees, sliding my hand beneath the bed. Dust coated my fingertips, but I ignored it, feeling for anything, something. My heart skipped when my fingers brushed against a tiny, forgotten metal screw.

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

The second day, I worked.

With the screw tucked safely into the hem of my dress, I moved to the electrical socket near the door, fingers trembling slightly as I pried off the cover. The exposed wiring made me pause, but I pushed down the fear. I had seen enough tech setups in my father's operations to know how these things worked. They thought I was just a Mafia princess-delicate, useless-but they didn't know the hours I had spent watching, learning, preparing for moments like this.

The screw helped me loosen the wires carefully, and soon enough, I had salvaged a few thin strands of copper. A broken piece of the bed frame served as a makeshift screwdriver, and before long, I had a handful of makeshift components.

I sat back on the bed, pieces laid out in front of me. I needed to work fast. Matteo checked on me sporadically, and I couldn't risk him catching me in the act.

First, I focused on the security camera. With the right connections, I could send a looped feed back to their system, making it look like I was still here even when I wasn't. My fingers worked quickly, twisting wires together, connecting pieces, and after hours of careful assembly, I had my first device-a small transmitter capable of jamming the live feed.

By the time Matteo's footsteps echoed in the hallway, I had already installed it in the camera, making sure it projected a perfect still image of me lying on the bed.

The door opened, and I kept my breathing steady, eyes closed, body relaxed. Matteo lingered for a moment before shutting the door again.

Relief flooded me, but I didn't have time to enjoy it.

Now for the lock.

The code lock on the door was advanced, but not impossible. I had seen similar ones used in my father's safehouses-numeric pads with a built-in failsafe that locked out attempts after five incorrect tries. My plan was simple: bypass it entirely.

Using the salvaged wires and a stripped cable from the bedside lamp, I fashioned a crude bypass device. My hands shook slightly as I worked, the pressure building with every second that ticked by. If Matteo caught me now, there would be no escape-no second chances.

Finally, I pressed the makeshift device against the panel, listening for the soft click that signaled I had access to the internal wiring. A few careful twists and the lock disengaged.

I stared at the door, hardly believing it had worked.

This was it.

With a deep breath, I slipped out into the dimly lit hallway, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

I moved silently, keeping close to the walls, listening carefully for any approaching footsteps. Matteo's men were everywhere, stationed at key points along the corridor, but I had timed my escape for the early hours when their patrols were lighter.

Every step I took felt like a victory, adrenaline surging through me as I approached the gates at the edge of the property. Freedom was so close I could taste it.

But as soon as I reached the massive iron gates, reality hit me like a slap. The security system was more complex than I had anticipated-reinforced steel, cameras everywhere, and armed guards.

I tried to tamper with the control panel, but the code was more advanced than I had the tools to crack. My heart pounded as I frantically worked, but the sudden blaring of an alarm shattered any hope I had left.

"Shit," I muttered, spinning around, searching for another way out.

Too late.

A sharp voice cut through the night air. "Don't move."

I froze, every muscle in my body tensing.

Within seconds, Matteo was there, stepping out of the darkness, his eyes locked onto mine with a dangerous glint.

"You just don't give up, do you?" His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of something darker-something more dangerous.

I swallowed hard, lifting my chin. "You didn't think I'd make it easy for you, did you?"

His smirk was slow, predatory. "No, Isabella. I didn't."

Before I could react, his hand wrapped around my wrist, dragging me back toward the mansion. I struggled, but his grip was like iron, his body radiating heat and something else-something that made my pulse race for reasons I didn't want to acknowledge.

"Let go of me," I snapped, twisting against him.

He ignored me, his jaw tight. "You had your chance. Now you'll face the consequences."

The tension crackled between us, thick and suffocating, as he shoved me back into the room.

"You'll never keep me here," I hissed, glaring at him.

Matteo leaned in, his breath ghosting over my skin. "I don't have to keep you here. You'll stay because you don't have a choice."

I wanted to slap him, to scream, but I held my ground.

This wasn't over.

Not by a long shot.

---

Giovanni

Giovanni Visconti sat in his penthouse, a glass of whiskey swirling in his hand as he listened to the report from one of his informants.

"So, it's true," he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk. "Alessandro's precious daughter has been taken."

His advisor shifted uneasily. "It seems so, sir. But Romano assures-"

Giovanni waved him off. "Romano assures nothing. This is an opportunity."

He stood, walking to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. "A man like Alessandro Romano prides himself on control, power, loyalty. And yet, his own daughter was taken from under his nose."

He sipped his drink, the smirk growing. "This is the perfect chance to show everyone that the Romanos are no longer untouchable."

His advisor cleared his throat. "What do you plan to do, sir?"

Giovanni chuckled. "Let him squirm for now. But soon... we'll remind him what happens when promises are broken."

---

Alessandro Romano

Alessandro paced his study, Luca standing silently in the corner, tension radiating from both of them.

"This cannot continue," Alessandro growled. "We need to act, and we need to act now."

Luca nodded. "Our men are ready."

Alessandro's grip tightened on the edge of his desk. "And Giovanni?"

Luca hesitated. "He's... losing patience. He called again."

Alessandro exhaled slowly. "Then we have no choice. We get her back. Tonight."

Luca's eyes darkened with determination. "We'll bring her home, Papà. No matter what it takes."