MILLIE
Descending the stairs, I found Harper and Sienna at the dining table, a tableau of uncertainty. Absent were the recent guards, a consequence of Gio’s strategic measures. Dario, entrusted with responsibilities in New York, was mercifully away during this pivotal juncture. As I took my seat, the words “I’m sorry for what I said” escaped both Harper and me in unison, a shared sentiment of reconciliation. Laughter dissolved the tension momentarily, yet it couldn’t stave off the gravity of the situation for long.
The buoyancy waned, replaced by an impending storm on my horizon. Harper’s intuition discerned my turmoil, her voice tinged with concern. It was time to unravel my intentions, to confide in my sisters-in-arms. A shard of unease lodged in my chest as I began to recount Karsen’s plea, the pain he endured at the hands of our father, and my steadfast determination to rescue him.
Harper’s disbelief was palpable; Sienna’s shock mirrored my own. The reality of Karsen’s suffering struck a chord within them, triggering empathy that united us in purpose. The complexities were laid bare the risks, the stakes and their worry was evident. The notion of my solitary journey to Chicago was met with vehement protest, echoing their love and concern for me, the Capo’s wife.
Though torn between allegiance and urgency, I remained steadfast. The strength of my resolve matched the depth of my desperation. Within me, an unyielding commitment to family overshadowed even the gravest perils. The scales tipped in favor of action, and I voiced my plea for their assistance.
Silence hung in the air as Sienna and Harper exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. My heart raced, each beat resounding in my ears as I awaited their response. The culmination of our shared history, our bonds forged in secrecy and loyalty, simmered beneath the surface. The weight of our intertwined fates was both a burden and a beacon.
Sienna’s voice finally pierced the stillness, her words carrying the weight of camaraderie and caution. A chorus of concern echoed her sentiment, amplifying the unspoken truth: Karsen was our brother, a shared responsibility that transcended the boundaries of allegiance. Their hesitance melded with a fragile hope, a fragile plan that rested on the precipice of brilliance and folly.
As the intricate threads of my scheme unfurled, the room seemed to hold its breath. Uncertainty intermingled with audacity, forming a tapestry of resolve that defied the odds. Harper’s assessment hovered between admiration and incredulity, a sentiment I embraced with unflinching conviction.
In the end, it was a question of pragmatism versus passion. The gamble was set, the plan was in motion. The clandestine whispers of sisters-in-arms echoed in that room, carrying the weight of sacrifice and salvation. And as we embraced the unknown together, the very foundation of the Famiglia shifted beneath our feet, bound by bonds that could withstand even the tempest of the impending storm.
Harper rose from her seat, her movements deliberate as she lowered herself into the chair next to me. The touch of her hands was reassuring, grounding my racing thoughts. Her voice held a mix of concern and caution, a testament to the weight of the situation at hand.
“Millie,” she began, her gaze locked onto mine, “you must understand the magnitude of what you’re attempting. This isn’t a mere trivial endeavor. The Famiglia is entrenched in a bitter conflict with the Outfit. The very fabric of loyalty and power is strained. Gio-our brother-his reaction won’t be mild if he discovers you ventured to Chicago without his knowledge.”
The words hung in the air, pregnant with the truth of our reality. Millie’s frustration echoed through her voice as she responded, a blaze of defiance burning in her eyes. “But Harper, why should we be held captive by a war that isn’t of our making? Why should our bond with Gio be shattered just because a few Made Men have chosen to unleash their animosity upon each other?”
Harper’s amusement was evident, a soft snort betraying her restrained smile. “Funny, isn’t it? Those sentiments are verbatim from my own counsel.”
Millie’s retort held a blend of determination and desperation. “Still, Harper, Gio’s wrath is a force unto itself.”
A fleeting glimmer of resolve danced in her eyes, a spark of secret determination. “He mustn’t discover. The thought of him learning about my clandestine voyage to enemy territory-it’s unfathomable. If he knew, the worry would gnaw at him, rendering him helpless amidst the tumultuous waves of this feud.”
~***~
Gio’s connection to the Famiglia ran far deeper than my own, binding him in ways that I could only marvel at. While my loyalty to Gio was unwavering, there existed a critical distinction between my allegiance and blind submission. New York buzzed with the ceaseless activities of Gio, Dario, and Sebastian, their commitments tying them up in the urban frenzy. The impending afternoon congregation of the Famiglia loomed ahead, promising a gathering laden with discussions that would command everyone’s attention.
Amid this intricate web of responsibilities, a clandestine plan took root in my mind. Four guards stood as sentinels, obstacles I must skillfully navigate. Three of them patrolled the garden’s shadows, while the fourth remained stationed within the mansion’s walls. The clock struck three in the stillness of dawn, a time cloaked in obscurity, and I embarked on my covert journey. Donning my attire and securing my essentials within a bag, I cautiously slipped out of my room, enveloped by the dimly lit corridor.
In the obsidian corridor, the figures of Harper and Sienna materialized, awaiting my arrival. A hushed question hung in the air, my lips barely moving, “Are we prepared?”
Harper emitted a soft, indecipherable murmur, her thoughts shrouded in uncertainty.
Sienna’s voice, a mere whisper, resonated with determination. “Yes, I am ready. I shall feign a night terror, unleashing a scream that reverberates through the darkness. When the guards hasten to investigate, Harper will intercede, her demeanor haughty and imperious. She shall command them to silence themselves, citing your unwell state.”
I acknowledged the partial success this stratagem would achieve-the elimination of two guards from their posts. Yet, one steadfast sentinel would linger near the water, a vulnerable point within the fortress, as it lacked the safeguards of towering gates. My aspirations hinged on the assumption that the remaining guardians would succumb to the ruse’s allure, permitting my silent escape. Possessing the access codes deemed sacrosanct by Gio himself, I remained armed with the tools of evasion.
Before embarking on this perilous endeavor, I shared an embrace with my sisters, their significance intensified by the impending separation. As I traversed the labyrinthine abode, one guard’s vigilant presence graced the communal living space. Stooping low in the shadows, I awaited the anticipated crescendo of Sienna’s feigned distress. The guard, ensnared by the ruse, sprang forth from the living area and ascended the staircase in a predictable trajectory. This was my window of opportunity.
Seizing the fleeting moment, I descended the stairs, embarking on my clandestine journey toward the mansion’s east wing. The echoes of Sienna’s artful screams faded into the background as I encoded the lock mechanism securing the rear entrance. A triumphant click confirmed my success, allowing me to slip out into the chilling night air. My head adorned by a woolen cap, I sprinted across the manicured lawn, shadowed by the concealing embrace of bushes.
Approaching the imposing gates, fortified with barbed wire and pulsating with electrical currents, a sense of irony gripped me. These fortifications were conceived to repel intruders, yet here I was, utilizing them to break free. Navigating the security protocols with practiced precision, I prompted the gate to respond. A solitary blink affirmed my mastery, granting me passage beyond this final barrier. Retracing my steps, I engaged the lock, ensuring that the obstacle I had overcome would stand once again.
These gates, conceived as bulwarks of security, were unwitting accomplices in my subterfuge. A pang of realization coursed through me; the need to bolster our defenses was evident. In my subsequent encounters with Gio, I would broach the subject, urging him to fortify the perimeter further. But for now, the urgency of my escape beckoned, leaving no room for deliberation.
The winding road lay ahead, each twist and turn propelling me closer to the appointed rendezvous. At last, the shimmering beams of an awaiting vehicle pierced the gloom, a beacon of salvation in the enveloping darkness. Relief flooded over me, momentarily eclipsing the tinge of guilt that gnawed at my conscience. The seamless orchestration of Harper and Sienna’s performance, coupled with Gio’s unshakable trust, stood as a testament to my dual role-loyal guardian and daring fugitive.