The tires of the stolen sedan screamed as Eleni banked a sharp turn toward the industrial docks of Elefsina. The golden glow of the Parthenon was miles behind them now, a beautiful lie in a city that wanted their heads on a platter.
Ben was slumped in the passenger seat, his eyes half-closed, his hand still death-gripped around the silver drive. He wasn't quipping anymore. The blood loss and the sheer weight of the night had finally caught up to him.
"Stay with me, Benson," Eleni muttered, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. "We're almost there. You said the docks. You said the warehouse with the blue crane."
"Second... second pier," Ben rasped, his voice barely a vibration. "Look for the man with the one-eyed dog. That's Dimitris."
Eleni pulled the car into the shadows of a massive shipping container. The air here was different—salty, thick with the smell of diesel and rotting fish. It was a place where things went to be forgotten.
As they stepped out of the car, a shadow detached itself from a nearby crane. A man, roughly in his late sixties, walked toward them with a slight limp. He wore a grease-stained captain's hat and carried an old wooden pipe that wasn't lit. At his heels sat a scruffy terrier with a missing eye.
"You look like hell, Benson," the man said. His voice was like grinding gravel. This was Dimitris. He had been the one to teach Ben how to read a map and how to hide a gun before Silas had ever turned him into a prince.
"I've looked better, old man," Ben managed a weak smile. "This is Eleni. She's the reason I'm still breathing. And she's the reason Silas is currently screaming into his champagne."
Dimitris looked at Eleni, his one good eye scanning her with a terrifying intensity. He didn't see a florist; he saw the steel in her spine. "You've got blood on your dress, girl. Blue suits you, but the red is a bit much. Come inside."
Inside Dimitris's workshop, the walls were covered in nautical charts and rusted engine parts. But in the back, behind a heavy iron door, was a sanctuary.
"I've called her," Dimitris said, pouring a glass of clear, lethal-looking ouzo and handing it to Ben. "She's waiting at the safe house in the hills. She isn't happy, Eleni. She says you've brought the devil to her doorstep."
"Who?" Eleni asked, her heart sinking.
"Sofia," Ben answered for him.
Eleni's breath caught. Sofia was her mother's cousin—the woman who had practically raised Eleni and Leo after their parents died. She was a woman who hated secrets, hated the city, and especially hated men who looked like Ben.
An hour later, they arrived at a small, stone-walled cottage tucked away in the olive groves outside the city. The door was already open. Standing in the doorway was a woman with silver-streaked hair pulled into a tight bun, her arms crossed over a thick wool apron. This was Sofia.
Leo and Mia were already there, sitting at a wooden table in the background. Mia let out a squeal of joy when she saw Eleni and ran to hug her legs.
"Eleni!" Sofia's voice was like a whip. "What have you done? Look at you. Look at your brother. He looks like he's seen a ghost, and you... you look like you've been dancing with one."
"Sofia, please," Eleni began, her voice breaking. "I didn't have a choice. This is Ben. He... he helped us."
Sofia turned her gaze to Ben, who was leaning against the doorframe, looking entirely out of place in the warm, rustic kitchen. "Helped you? This man smells of gunpowder and expensive trouble. I know his kind. He is a 'Shadow'. Shadows don't help people, Eleni. They just block the sun."
"I'm not looking for sun, Madame," Ben said, his voice surprisingly humble. "I'm looking for a place where a little girl can sleep without hearing a rifle. Just for tonight."
Sofia looked at Mia, who was clutching Eleni's dress, then back at the bleeding man. She stepped aside, though her expression remained frozen in stone. "The guest room is in the back. Clean yourself up. If I see a single drop of blood on my grandmother's sheets, I'll throw you to the wolves myself."
The tension in the house was palpable. As Eleni helped Ben into the back room, Sofia pulled her aside.
"He is marked, Eleni," Sofia whispered, her eyes full of a fearful wisdom. "You think you've won because you escaped the Acropolis? Men like Silas don't lose. They just wait. And you've brought that waiting into my house."
"He saved Mia, Sofia," Eleni argued, her voice a fierce whisper. "He fought for us. He's not what you think."
"He's exactly what I think," Sofia snapped. "He's a man who has lived in the dark so long he thinks he's part of it. Be careful, mou. When you lie down with a lion, don't be surprised if you wake up with scars."
Later that night, the house was silent. Dimitris had stayed back at the docks to keep watch, but Sofia sat on the porch with a shotgun across her lap, staring at the road.
Eleni found Ben sitting on the edge of the small guest bed. He had cleaned his wound, and Sofia—despite her anger—had left a bowl of hot soup and a loaf of bread on the nightstand.
"She's right, you know," Ben said, staring at the steam rising from the soup. "I am a shadow. I've spent my whole life making sure people like you didn't exist in my world. Because if you existed, I'd have to feel bad about what I was doing."
Eleni sat beside him, the old mattress creaking. "You're not a shadow tonight, Ben. You're just a man who needs to eat his soup."
Ben looked at her, his guard finally, truly down. "Dimitris... he was like a father to me. Before Silas bought me. He told me once that the sea always takes back what belongs to it. I think the city is the same way. It's going to come for us, Eleni. Silas won't stop."
"Then we go further," Eleni said, her hand finding his. "Dimitris has boats. You have the ledger. We find a place where the shadows can't reach."
"Is there such a place?"
"We'll build one," Eleni promised.
But as they sat there in the quiet of the olive groves, the sound of a distant engine echoed through the valley. Sofia stood up on the porch, her grip tightening on the steel. The game wasn't over. It had just moved to the country.