The weeks passed, changing into months, and Luca slowly began getting better, but it was a struggle. Each morning, Catalina could see he was a little stronger, not because of his muscles or training, but because he was determined and refused to stay broken. She had seen him bleeding, fighting, and almost dying. Now, she watched him slowly become himself again, like fixing a statue that had been damaged for years. With each step he took to recover, something soft, warm, and scary opened up inside her, the chance to dream again.
Their new life was very different from the one they had escaped. Here, in this peaceful town hidden among long roads and hills with no names, they lived in a house that seemed like it belonged to people who had never held a weapon. The walls were simple, no violence had touched the floors, and the windows let in sunlight instead of danger. Their clothes were as simple as their days, old jeans, comfy shirts, sandals, and sweaters with loose threads. Luca sometimes joked that they seemed more concerned about grocery prices than bullets and enemies. Catalina felt safe with that, even when it felt unreal.
Her weapons were buried far beneath the floorboards, inside a box she once used to sneak guns across borders. Now, it was silent. Luca had ended his connections with his empire, cut off contacts, stopped deals, and let the criminal world think he was either dead or dying. For a while, pretending was enough for them both. They let the heavy burden of their past disappear, acting like it was too far away to ever reach them again.
The days fell into a routine. Catalina made simple meals and cleaned the small porch, while Luca fixed broken hinges or repaired old furniture he found in neighbors' trash. They laughed more than they thought they would. Sometimes, in the quiet evenings, Catalina would see Luca sitting on the couch with their new baby daughter, Amelia, asleep on his chest, holding his shirt like she never wanted to let go. Catalina would stand in the doorway, her heart aching at the sight. Luca, the man who many feared, completely softened with a six-pound baby.
Amelia was the life they had fought for, a fragile miracle born from stolen time and desperate choices. When she laughed, Luca laughed with her; when she cried, Catalina held her close and told her stories of bravery and beauty. They taught her simple things, how to hold a crayon, how to take her first wobbly steps, how to babble nonsense that Luca pretended to understand. Every moment with her opened up something soft in Catalina's heart, something she didn't know was still there.
But Catalina never truly felt at peace. Even though she was living quietly, she was always a little bit tense. She knew not to completely trust peace because the men she grew up with would smile while secretly planning harm. She practiced alone in the old barn, doing the same exercises with quiet care, silent steps, controlled breathing, and precise strikes. It was the only way she knew how to keep the life she had safe. Luca would sometimes watch her from the door. He never spoke, but she could see that he was scared of losing her, of the past returning, and of her needing those skills again.
Amelia made them more gentle, but being gentle was risky. Catalina felt like she was being watched and that danger was coming. Even though Valerio was far away, she couldn't stop thinking about him. He had been betrayed, embarrassed, and left alone, and men like him never forgot it. They hunted. They waited. They found.
At night, when Luca held her, she stayed awake listening to the wind against the house, trying to figure out if it sounded normal or like a warning. She knew Luca felt it too. He acted like he didn't, trying to ignore his fear by focusing on being a dad, fixing things, and enjoying peaceful mornings. But she saw how tense his shoulders were and how he paused when a car drove by too slowly. They were both trying to hide their fear from each other, but neither one was successful.
Sometimes, as Catalina rocked Amelia to sleep, her hands shook. She wasn't afraid for herself, but for the small child in her arms. Enemies didn't care about innocent people. They wanted to punish. And they had made many enemies. The walls of their house were strong. The land around them was clear. Weapons were hidden where even Luca didn't know. But Catalina knew something Luca didn't want to admit: safety measures can only delay danger, not stop it completely.
She could sense it before anything happened, a change in the air, a tightness in her chest, a feeling that the world outside their safe place was starting to move again. She woke up one morning and knew something had been discovered. Something had been revealed. Something dangerous was now focused on them.
Then, the proof arrived.
A hint, a name said in the wrong place, a receipt with unfamiliar writing, a sighting that seemed too familiar, reached Valerio. Whatever it was, it was enough to make him act. His group started moving. He became angrier. He started hunting again.
Catalina felt the world change the same moment Valerio made his move, even though she didn't know exactly what was happening yet. The night smelled different, the wind felt stronger. Even Amelia was uneasy that night, moving around in Catalina's arms as if she could feel the tension.
Luca saw Catalina's face get tense and attempted to ask what the problem was, but she gave him a swift kiss, faked a smile, and put Amelia in his arms as if everything was normal. But on the inside, things were different. Catalina had already made the promise she hoped she would never need: no matter what happened, she would not let the past steal her family.
As the day ended and it got darker, the three of them were together in the living room, Amelia sitting on Luca's lap, Catalina close to his side, her fingers barely touching his hand. The wind outside made noise in the trees, sounding not so much like a breeze but more like a threat. Catalina remembered the knives hidden under the floor and the life that taught her how to survive before kindness.
Their calm time had been wonderful. It had been valuable. But it had also always been short-lived.
Valerio had located thei
r path.
And he was approaching.