The temptation of my brother-in-law-Chapter 154 - One Hundred and Fifty-Four

Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Four

Alicia’s POV

We spent the first three days in the villa barely leaving, just hiding and trying to process everything that had happened. But on the fourth day, David called with news.

"You need to move faster on the new identities," he said through the speaker phone. "Malachi’s getting close. He almost tracked which jet you were on."

My blood ran cold. "How close?"

"Close enough that I had to scramble the records. Made it look like three different jets went to three different countries at the same time. He’s chasing ghosts now, but he’s resourceful. You don’t have much time before he figures it out."

"What do we do?"

"Get new phones like you planned. New SIM cards, new numbers. And I’m sending you cash. A lot of it. Don’t use your credit cards, don’t access your bank accounts. Malachi can trace all of that."

"How much cash?"

"Enough to live on for at least six months. Maybe longer if you’re careful. It’ll be delivered to the villa tomorrow morning."

I looked at Sophie who was listening with wide eyes. "Thank you, David. I don’t know how to repay you for all this."

"You’re Cassie’s best friend. That makes you family. Just stay safe and stay hidden."

The cash arrived the next morning in a nondescript bag carried by a courier who didn’t ask questions. Fifty thousand euros in various denominations. More money than I’d ever seen in cash at once.

"This is insane," Sophie said, staring at the stacks of bills. "We’re really doing this. New identities. Fake names. Living in hiding."

"It’s temporary. Just until we figure out something more permanent."

"Like what? We can’t hide forever."

"No. But we can hide long enough for Malachi to give up. To move on. To focus on something else."

Sophie didn’t look convinced but she didn’t argue.

Cassie helped us plan the shopping trip. "You need to blend in. Look like tourists, not like you’re hiding. Sunglasses, hats, casual clothes. Nothing that stands out."

We dressed carefully that morning. I wore jeans and a light sweater, big sunglasses, a scarf wrapped around my hair to hide the silver. Sophie did the same, covering her distinctive hair with a baseball cap. Cassie went with us as our guide, the only one of us who spoke passable Italian.

The town of Bellagio was beautiful. Narrow cobblestone streets, colorful buildings, shops and cafes spilling onto sidewalks. Tourists everywhere taking photos of the lake, buying souvenirs, enjoying gelato in the afternoon sun.

We looked like we belonged. Just three women on vacation, browsing shops and enjoying the weather.

Cassie led us to a small electronics store where we bought three new phones with cash. The clerk didn’t ask for identification, didn’t seem to care who we were. Just took our money and handed over the boxes with a smile.

"New SIM cards," Cassie said. "Local numbers. No connection to anything back home."

We set up the phones in a cafe, careful to use only cash, careful not to log into any accounts or apps that could be traced. Just fresh devices with fresh numbers that only the three of us would know.

"Feels weird," Sophie said, staring at her new phone. "Like I’m erasing myself."

"You’re not erasing yourself. You’re protecting yourself. There’s a difference."

After the phones, we went to a clothing store. We needed more than what we’d packed in our hurried escape. Summer dresses for the warm weather, comfortable shoes for walking, basic necessities.

I was browsing through a rack of scarves when it happened.

I reached for a blue one at the same time someone else did. Our hands collided and I stepped back quickly.

"Scusa," I said, one of the few Italian words I’d learned.

The woman smiled. "No problem. You take it."

She spoke English with an accent I couldn’t place. Eastern European maybe. She was older, maybe sixty, well-dressed in that effortless way wealthy Europeans seemed to master.

I smiled back and moved to grab the scarf. But as I did, my sunglasses slipped down my nose slightly. Just enough. Just for a second.

The woman’s eyes met mine. Widened. She took a step back like I’d burned her.

"No," she whispered. "No, it can’t be."

"I’m sorry?" I pushed my sunglasses back up, confused.

"You’re. But you’re dead. You’re supposed to be dead."

My heart started racing. "I think you have me confused with someone else."

"The eyes. The hair. It’s. You’re a ghost. You have to be a ghost."

She was backing away now, genuinely terrified. Other shoppers were starting to notice. Cassie appeared at my elbow, her hand on my arm.

"We should go," Cassie said quietly.

"You’re not real," the woman was saying, louder now. "You can’t be real. I saw. I was there. You died."

"Ma’am, I think you’re confused," I said, trying to keep my voice calm even though panic was clawing at my throat. "I’ve never met you before."

"Liar! Ghost! You’re a ghost come back to haunt us!"

The store clerk was approaching now, looking concerned. Cassie pulled me toward the door.

"We need to leave. Now."

We abandoned the scarf and walked quickly out of the store, Sophie following close behind. The woman was still shouting behind us, something about ghosts and the dead returning and judgment.

"What the hell was that?" Sophie asked once we were outside.

"I don’t know. She thought I was someone else. Someone who died."

"She seemed really freaked out," Cassie said. "Like genuinely terrified."

"She’s probably mentally ill," I said, trying to convince myself. "Saw someone who reminded her of whoever this dead person was and had some kind of episode."

"Or," Sophie said slowly, "she actually knew someone who looked like you. Someone who died. That’s creepy, Alicia."

It was creepy. But it was also probably just coincidence. The world was full of people who looked alike. Doppelgangers. Genetic coincidences. This woman had clearly been unstable, seeing ghosts where there were just ordinary people.

"Let’s just finish shopping and get back to the villa," I said. "I don’t want to be out here longer than necessary."

We went to two more stores, bought what we needed quickly, paid in cash. The whole time I kept looking over my shoulder, half-expecting to see that woman again, or worse, to see Malachi somehow having tracked us down.

But we made it back to the car without incident. Drove back to the villa in silence, each of us processing what had happened in our own way.

"You really think she was just crazy?" Sophie asked once we were safely inside with the gates locked behind us.

"What else could it be? She said I was dead. Obviously I’m not dead. So she was either confused or having some kind of mental health crisis."

"But she seemed so sure. So terrified."

"People with delusions often are." I started unpacking our shopping bags, trying to focus on something normal. "It doesn’t mean anything."

Cassie was looking at me strangely. "You don’t think it’s weird though? A random woman in Italy thinking you’re someone’s ghost?"

"It’s weird but it’s not. I don’t know. It’s not relevant. We have bigger things to worry about than one confused old woman."

"I guess."

But the encounter kept nagging at me. The way the woman had looked at me. The genuine terror in her eyes. The certainty in her voice when she said I should be dead.

Who had she thought I was? Who did I look like who’d died?

I shook my head. It didn’t matter. It was just a strange coincidence in a foreign country. Nothing more.

We spent the rest of the day setting up our new phones, memorizing our new numbers, destroying the SIM cards from our old phones. Creating a clean break from everything that had come before.

That night I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about Malachi. Trying not to wonder if he’d given up looking or if he was still searching, still trying to track me down.

Trying not to think about that woman’s face when she’d seen mine. The terror. The disbelief. The certainty that I was someone I couldn’t possibly be.

You’re dead. You’re supposed to be dead.

I pushed the thought away. Closed my eyes. Forced myself to sleep.