I Fled After a Call From Future Me

When Michele Barone, the Underboss of the Moretti family, proposes to me, I receive a video call from another version of myself, who's five years in the future.

In the video call, my older self is already shaved bald. She's also trapped in the Moretti family's basement.

"Don't marry him! You have to get rid of the unborn baby in your belly and get out of here right now!"

I throw the ring to the table on the spot before going through an abortion right away.

When Michele finds out the truth, he breaks down and cries his heart out. At the same time, he keeps demanding answers from me.

All of my family and friends keep blaming and accusing me. They even claim that I've gone nuts.

Meanwhile, Michele's childhood friend, Gianna Grasso, hides outside the room with a hand clamped over her mouth as she giggles secretly to herself.

"AI nowadays sure is powerful! I can't believe she actually believes that the woman in the video call is actually her future self five years from now!"

My lips curl into a small smile.

Honestly speaking, I can tell right away that it's just a fake AI video, based on how shabbily it's made.

It's quite simple as to why I've done those things, though—I've received an actual video call from my future self for real.

Emilia's POV

"Are you done kicking up a fuss? Even if you're jealous of Gianna, you shouldn't risk your own health like that."

Michele Barone, the Underboss of the Moretti family, was sitting beside the hospital bed, while I was leaning against the headboard and gazing out of the window. A dull, post-surgical ache still lingered in my lower abdomen.

"Michele, this is all my fault." Gianna Grasso stood to the side, her voice frail. "I just thought that AI was interesting and wanted to play a joke on Emilia. I never imagined she'd take it seriously."

Michele raised a hand and patted her back.

"Don't cry, Gianna. With your heart condition, you can't afford to get upset. This isn't your fault. Emilia was just being too willful."

He reached out, wanting to stroke my cheek. But I turned my head away to avoid his touch. Displeasure flickered across his face, but he quickly suppressed it.

"Be good and stop throwing tantrums. We can always have another baby later. You mustn't do such ridiculous things again."

Watching him defend Gianna so openly, I only felt a deep weariness.

He would never know that the reason I gave up the baby and turned down the engagement without hesitation had nothing to do with that fake video.

Before I received that fake video, I really did get a call from the future. The gaunt, hollow-eyed woman on the video was me, five years from now.

I didn't want to argue with him, so I followed his lead and said, "I'm very tired. I want to get some rest."

Michele, seeing that I wasn't quarreling as usual, assumed I'd given in.

"Okay then, have a good rest. I'll have Gianna temporarily take over the underground trade routes you were in charge of."

He bent down to straighten the edge of my blanket. "You need to take it easy after surgery. Don't push yourself. Once you've calmed down, I'll arrange other work for you."

I watched it all unfold, clearly catching the smugness in Gianna's eyes.

I spent nights staying up, running from one stronghold to another, just to finally secure the trade route. Yet, with just a casual word, he handed my hard-earned efforts over to his childhood sweetheart.

"Do whatever you want." I closed my eyes and turned away, my back facing him.

A brief silence fell over the hospital room. Then, two sets of footsteps slowly faded away.

With my eyes closed, that eerie video replayed in my mind once more.

My future self, her face streaked with tears, was wearing a prison uniform.

"This is my only chance to contact you. I beg you, leave Michele. No matter what, you must escape that place."

I didn't know what exactly would happen five years from now. But seeing that face, identical to mine and etched with torment, I answered inwardly without a moment's hesitation, "Alright, I promise you."

Gathering my thoughts, I picked up my phone and dialed a number.

"Don Cosimo, this is Emilia Amato. May I ask if I can still join that cross-border humanitarian aid project you asked me about before?"

A pleasantly surprised voice came from the other end. "Of course, Emilia. But the area is an active war zone, so it's extremely dangerous. Are you sure you want to go?"

I looked at the birds soaring past the window and smiled, as if a weight had been lifted off me.

"Yes, I'm sure. The sooner I leave, the better. And I'd like this to be kept confidential. Please don't let Michele know."