Chapter 1

Isabella's POV

It was a stressful day at work. Five more days and I'll get my paycheck. I could barely wait to finally get paid because I needed to assist Mom and Dad. The debts were piling up and it was annoying.

"What's going on Dad, why are you packing our things?" I asked the moment I walked into our small apartment and saw him hurriedly packing our belongings into a bag.

"We have got to leave the city Bel, pack up the few valuable things you can and do that now!" he answered as he continued pacing around and grabbing some stuff.

I froze at the spot, trying to understand what was going on. When I left home, I did not see any signs of this happening. Dad said he had most of the bills covered. So what was going on? 

"Dad, you need to stop and tell me what's happening," I said, more confused.

"We do not have time for that. I'll tell you everything on our way out of here," he said as he opened our drawer, picked up our international passports, and threw it into the bag where he had been flinging things into.

"No Dad Tell me now! Are we running away?" I finally began to realize what was happening. 

"You don't expect me to leave my work, my friends, and my life and then run off with you to heaven knows where Dad. Where are we going? I want to know right now!" I added as tears began to slowly run down my cheeks.

I stared at my dad as he halted. He has not been the best father of the year but he tried. Mum was at rehab and he could barely keep up with house expenses. He did not allow me to work until recently. Most of the money he made from his plumbing work was spent to ensure that Mom got better and stop her incessant drinking.

"Pumpkin," he said as he halted. He sat down on the stool at the kitchen counter. He looked sad and worried at the same time. It felt like he was trying hard not to break down.

Dad has always been my best parent. Especially since Mom started drinking. She was such an angel and the perfect definition of a good mother until I turned fifteen. I did not know my mother anymore and that was when I started noticing that our lifestyle changed.

I've never seen Dad like this. Not even when Mom was admitted, not when I was following a bad gang. Not when I gave him trouble. He was always so collected. This incident must have changed his life. I was certain that the money he owed was definitely beyond his paycheck and mine.

"Dad, tell me. You can talk to me. Why the hurry? What is it?" I said as I knelt next to him. I placed my hands on his shoulders and for the first time in my life, my father's eyes were teary.

My heart broke. Whoever made my Dad this way deserved to rot in hell.

As he was about to talk, his phone began to ring. We both looked at the screen and saw the caller, Marcello. Dad's sad and teary face changed into worry. I could feel his hands shake. I could see the fear in his eyes and it broke me.

"Fuck it!" I uttered and picked up the call

"No…" Dad said, stretching his hands as he tried to stop me from answering the call. I picked the call, took a few steps away from him and placed the phone on my ears. I was fuming.

"Who's this?"

"Oh, I see Isaac no longer has the balls to pick up my call again. Give the phone to Isaac," the caller who I gathered must be the borrower, said in a rather aggressive tone.

"No, you speak to me now Mister," I said, not backing down. We might be indebted to him but I was not going to allow this man trample on my father.

"Seems you have more balls than your father who's pacing around the room right now," the man said. It immediately hit me that they were watching us because my dad was currently pacing around the room.

I was shocked but I made sure that I did not let it show. I do not know where this confidence came from. I was usually the timid, shy, and clumsy girl people usually laughed at or at least pitied, but for some reason, I grew confident. I guess my father's pathetic state gave me confidence. I needed to save him.

If they were watching us, then I must ensure that I showed no sign of weakness, having my dad look petrified was bad enough.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Don't act like you don't know what I want, child," he said. "You are lucky I'm not there right now. Give your father the phone before I connect the line to Don Rodrigo," he added.

"And who the fuck is Don Rodrigo?" I said. I was so angry that if I do not do something, I'll have to leave my life because of a loan.

As I mentioned Don Rodrigo, Dad stopped pacing. His eyes widened and he looked at me. It clicked in my head that Don Rodrigo must be the devil in charge.

"Give me that," Dad said as stepped closer and snatched the phone from me.

"Hello Marcello," he said and paused for a bit. I could not hear what Marcello was saying from the other end of the call so I relied on Dad's response and actions.

"I promised to pay back. I asked Don for more time. Please give me more time," Dad said. My Dad's normal calm and collected personality was shattered.

"Of course not," he said as he weirdly laughed, "I will never run away, Marcello please, please," he begged.

"Hello, Hello…" he removed the phone from his ears, turned to face me, and said, "Grab that bag, we are leaving now!"

I knew I could not argue at this moment. I didn't know what their conversation was but I'm sure Dad would explain. 

I grabbed the bag while he took a small stack of cash in his room and put it into the handbag I returned from work with. He grabbed the old rackety car keys and we headed for the door.

We opened the door and met two hefty-looking men and a smaller man in the middle.

Shit! I forgot that we were being watched.

The small man puffed smoke from the cigarette in his hands and sneered, "Where the fuck do you think you're going?"