THREE

After several hours on the road—getting lost here and there, asking directions from friendly strangers—we finally found Meva’s house.

The moment we arrived, Meva came out of the small gate and waved excitedly at me. Her smile was so warm that I felt my heart lighten instantly. I jumped out of the car, barely waiting for it to stop completely, and rushed over to her.

“Nounou!” I called out with a big grin, using the endearment I’ve always called her since I was little.

She opened her arms wide and pulled me into a tight hug. I hugged her back just as tightly, not wanting to let go. She smelled like home—like warm food and clean laundry. I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until now.

“Oh my goodness, look at you!” Meva said, pulling back to look at my face. “If your father finds out about this, we’re both going to be in trouble.”

Even though her words sounded worried, she still had a smile on her face.

I gave her a small pout. “Don’t worry, Nounou. I’ll handle Dad. I just needed to get away for a bit—to breathe. They’re always so strict with me.”

I looked down at my shoes for a second. Dad was a good man, and I loved him, but his rules were too much sometimes. It was like I was being watched 24/7. I knew he had reasons, but I still wished he’d treat me like I could make my own choices.

The truth was, my sister was the one expected to lead our family someday. My two younger brothers were still being trained. Me? I was just the youngest daughter, not really in line for anything important. But Dad was still extra protective of me. Maybe because of what he does—being the boss of an Italian mafia wasn’t exactly a normal job.

“Well,” Meva sighed, “It’s not like I can stop you. You were always good at getting what you wanted.” She gave me a look, half serious, half teasing.

Then she glanced over my shoulder, and her eyebrows rose slightly. Curious, I turned to see what—or who—she was looking at.

It was Nicolo.

He was leaning against the side of his car, arms crossed, watching us quietly from a short distance. I hadn’t even noticed he was still there. Part of me thought he’d already driven off after dropping me off.

Meva leaned closer to me and asked in a lower voice, “Who’s that, Freah?”

I blinked and tried not to sound awkward. “Ah... he’s a friend. I met him earlier today. He helped me get here.”

That was technically the truth. Just... not the whole truth.

I excused myself from Meva and walked over to Nicolo. He looked at me as I approached, calm and unreadable like always.

“Thank you again,” I said softly, offering him a small smile. “For everything.”

He nodded. “No problem. I’ll grab your bags.”

He walked over to the trunk, opened it, and pulled out my luggage. I watched him in silence for a few seconds. I still didn’t understand why he helped me. He didn’t ask for anything in return, and he barely knew me.

Meva’s son, Colton, came out and offered to help carry my things inside. He was around my age and had always been like a cousin to me growing up. When he saw Nicolo, his eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t say anything just yet.

“Come inside,” Meva called out kindly. “You both must be tired. Stay and eat with us. I made plenty of food.”

Nicolo gave me a look, as if silently asking if it was okay. I gave a quick nod, and he followed me inside.

The dining table was already set, and the smell of warm, home-cooked food filled the house. We all sat down, and the small talk began.

“So, where are you from, young man?” Meva asked Nicolo while passing him a plate.

“New York,” he answered politely. 

“Oh wow,” Meva said, clearly interested.

As the two of them kept talking, I kept sneaking little glances at Nicolo. He was calm, polite, respectful—nothing like what I expected from someone I met under such... unusual circumstances. He had this quiet, serious air about him. He was intimidating in some ways, but not in a bad way. Just... hard to read.

“At first, I really thought Nicolo was your boyfriend!” Colton joked, grinning as he looked between us.

My cheeks instantly turned red. I glanced at Nicolo, worried he’d feel awkward, but he just gave a tiny smile. I looked away quickly, embarrassed.

Meva laughed along with her son. “Well, he did bring you here all the way from who-knows-where. That’s something.”

I gave her a playful pout. “Nounou, please don’t say things like that,” I whispered, even more embarrassed now.

“You're lucky he helped you. If not, you’d probably still be wandering around city,” she teased.

I covered my face for a moment, then reached for my glass of water.

Colton turned to me again. “Don’t you have an older sister? Didn’t she come with you? Or your brothers?”

I shook my head. “Nope. I actually ran away from home,” I admitted. “My siblings helped me sneak out without the bodyguards noticing.”

Colton’s jaw dropped before he started laughing. “Seriously? You ran away?”

“Something like that,” I chuckled. “Dad won’t be home for a while, so I’m hoping it takes them a bit before they realize I’m gone... and fly out here to drag me back.”

Everyone laughed again, and for the first time since arriving in the US, I felt... relaxed.

Even with Nicolo sitting quietly beside me, everything felt strangely okay.

I wasn’t really confident about what I’d said earlier. Deep down, I had a strong feeling that Dad would find out I was missing very soon. My bodyguards were trained to report things quickly—especially something like me disappearing. Unless my older sister found a way to delay them, it was only a matter of time.

But if they did find out, I’d deal with it. I am not a child anymore. I just wanted to live a little. And if that meant having to face them afterward, so be it.

While we were still eating and chatting, I stole a quick glance at Nicolo. He was staring at me with narrowed eyes, like he was trying to figure something out. It wasn’t a casual look—it was sharp, focused, like I was some sort of puzzle he couldn’t solve.

His intense stare made my chest feel tight, and I quickly turned away before our eyes met.

After lunch, I offered to help Meva clean up the dishes, but she shook her head with a smile. She dried her hands on a towel and came closer to me, chuckling softly.

“No, Freah. I know you don’t know how to wash dishes properly,” she said with a teasing voice. “You’ll just break something.”

I pouted and crossed my arms, pretending to be offended. “I could try, you know.”

But she just smirked. “Don’t pretend. Go talk to that boy instead.”

My eyes widened. “Nick?”

Meva nodded and gave me a playful look. “Tell me the truth. Are you sure that muscular young man isn’t your boyfriend? I don’t believe he’s just a friend.”

“Nounou!” I gasped. “Seriously, he’s not my boyfriend. If I had one, you’d be the first to know.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly still suspicious.

“And besides,” I added, “you know how things are with my dad. That’s why none of my relationships ever last.”

It was true. Dad didn’t really stop us from dating. We were allowed to be in relationships—only if the guy agreed to follow one very important rule. Most of them couldn’t. Not one of my exes stuck around long enough to even try. That’s why, after a while, I just stopped expecting much.

No one ever seemed strong enough to stay.

Feeling restless, I stepped outside. The sunlight was warm, and a soft breeze brushed against my skin. But as I looked around, I realized Nicolo was no longer in the car.

Had he gone home already?

I scanned the small rental houses Meva owned. They were all simple and neat—rows of tiny homes painted in faded colors. She and her husband had turned it into a little business here in the city. 

Wanting some quiet time, I headed toward the park. I remembered seeing it earlier—it wasn’t far from the house, just past a few trees and open fields.

When I reached it, I found a bench and sat down. The sounds of nature helped calm my thoughts.

‘I won’t stay here long,’ I reminded myself. This is only the start.

I had come to the US to find my mother’s side of the family. According to Mom, I’d met some of them once when I was a toddler—but I couldn’t remember anything. Not even their names. And strangely, we never talked about them. Not once.

It felt like they were a secret.

My sister probably knew more, but she never said anything. Just like Dad—who always stayed quiet whenever the topic came up. I didn’t understand why.

Do I have cousins? Aunts? Uncles? What happened to them?

I’ve never had many friends. I was homeschooled for most of my life. Dad only let me attend university when I got older, and even then, I wasn’t used to being around so many people. I kept to myself. It was hard to connect with others.

That’s what happens when you grow up in a home that feels more like a fortress than a place of love.

We had enemies. A lot of them. Because of the family business. So my parents—especially Dad—kept me locked away for safety. But sometimes it felt like I was a prisoner.

“What are you doing here all alone?”

I froze, then turned around.

It was Nicolo.