Venice airport was louder than it should have been.
Or maybe Elena was just hearing everything too clearly.
The rolling of suitcases across polished floors, fragments of conversations in languages she couldn't follow, boarding announcements bleeding into one another—it all blended into a constant, restless noise that made it impossible to focus on anything for too long.
She kept moving.
Not fast enough to draw attention.
Not slow enough to feel safe.
Her grip tightened around the handle of her bag as she approached the departure screens, her eyes scanning destinations without really seeing them.
Anywhere.
That was the plan.
Anywhere that didn't make sense.
Anywhere he wouldn't expect.
Because that was the only way this worked now.
Her reflection flickered faintly in the glass—pale, tired, her eyes sharper than they had been a week ago.
He found you once.
He'll do it again.
Elena exhaled slowly and stepped toward the counter.
"One ticket," she said, her voice steady. "Next available flight."
The woman behind the desk nodded, typing quickly.
"Destination?"
Elena hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then—
"Athens."
It didn't matter.
That was the point.
The phone vibrated in her hand, the sudden movement so sharp against her palm that for a second she almost dropped it.
Unknown number.
Elena stopped walking.
Not abruptly—she forced herself to slow down instead, blending into the steady flow of people moving through the terminal, her eyes lowering to the screen as if it were nothing more than a routine call.
Her first instinct was to ignore it.
That would have been the smart choice. The safe one.
But the second instinct came almost immediately after—
and it was stronger.
What if it matters?
What if it's too late already?
She answered.
"Yes?"
There was a brief pause on the other end. Not long, but long enough to feel intentional, as if whoever was calling had been waiting for her to pick up.
Then a man's voice.
Calm.
Measured.
Controlled in a way that made it impossible to place.
"Don't hang up."
Her fingers tightened instinctively around the phone.
Every sense sharpened at once.
"Who is this?" she asked, her voice quieter now, her gaze lifting automatically to scan the space around her.
People moved past her without noticing. A couple arguing softly near the gate. A child running ahead of his parents. A man speaking into his headset, laughing.
Normal.
Everything looked normal.
"I'm a friend of Sofia."
The world didn't stop.
But something inside her did.
Not relief.
Not trust.
Just—
focus.
"What?" she asked, more carefully this time.
"She's worried about you," he continued, his tone steady, almost reassuring without trying too hard. "She asked me to find you."
Elena's eyes narrowed slightly as she turned just enough to see behind her, then to the side, then back again. This time she wasn't just looking—she was searching.
"How did you get this number?"
"She gave it to me," he said simply. "Along with your description. And where you were staying."
Her stomach tightened.
That shouldn't have been possible.
And yet—
it sounded exactly like something Sofia would do if she was scared enough.
"She said Adrian knows," he added.
The words hit harder than anything else.
Too clean.
Too direct.
Too believable.
Elena felt the ground shift beneath her, not physically, but in that quiet, internal way that made everything feel suddenly unstable.
"Elena," he said, softer now, lowering his voice just enough to feel more personal, more urgent, "you can't get on that plane."
Her pulse spiked instantly.
"Why?" she asked, even though part of her already knew what he was going to say.
"Because if you do," he replied calmly, "he'll be waiting for you on the other side."
Silence pressed in around her.
The airport, just seconds ago full of movement and noise, suddenly felt too open, too exposed, as if every person around her could see exactly who she was and why she was here.
Too visible.
Too easy to find.
"I can help you," the man continued. "Just for a few days. Somewhere safe. Somewhere he won't look first."
Safe.
The word slipped into her thoughts before she could stop it, before she could question it, before she could tear it apart the way she had learned to do with everything else.
"Sofia asked me to take care of you," he added.
Elena closed her eyes for a moment.
Sofia.
The only person she trusted without hesitation. The only person who wasn't part of Adrian's world, who didn't move in those circles, who didn't play those games.
If Sofia reached out—
If she asked for help—
Then I'm not alone.
"Where are you?" Elena asked quietly.
"Turn around."
Her breath caught.
Just for a second.
Then she turned.
He was already there.
—
He didn't look threatening.
That was the first thing she registered.
He stood a few steps away, perfectly composed, dressed in a way that didn't draw attention but still spoke of quiet precision. The kind of man you would pass without remembering, the kind of face that blended into any crowd.
But his eyes—
were fixed on her.
Not aggressively.
Not impatiently.
Just… certain.
"You shouldn't stay here," he said gently. "We need to go."
There was no urgency in his tone.
No pressure.
And somehow, that made it more convincing.
Elena hesitated, her gaze flicking away from him for just a moment.
Toward the gate.
Toward the departure board flashing destinations that no longer felt like escape, but like traps she didn't fully understand.
Toward the people moving through the terminal, untouched by any of this.
Then back to him.
"Sofia sent you?" she asked.
"Yes."
No hesitation.
No pause.
That should have been enough.
It should have made her step back, question it, refuse.
But it didn't.
Because everything else fit too well.
Too neatly.
Too perfectly into the fear already building inside her.
She nodded slowly.
"Okay."
—
The car was waiting outside.
Black.
Clean.
Unremarkable in the way expensive things often were.
He opened the door for her without touching her, without guiding her, without even looking like he expected her to hesitate.
He simply waited.
Elena stood there for a moment, the cool evening air brushing against her skin, her thoughts racing through everything one last time.
The plane.
A random destination.
Running again.
Or—
this.
A temporary stop.
A place to think.
A place to breathe.
A place where Adrian wouldn't reach her immediately.
A pause.
A choice.
She got in.
The door closed softly behind her, sealing the decision before she could revisit it.
The car pulled away from the airport, merging smoothly into the quiet movement of the city, Venice unfolding around her in reflections of gold and black that shimmered against the water.
Elena leaned back slightly, her pulse still elevated, her body still tense, but something in her chest loosening despite everything.
Just for a moment.
If Sofia sent him—
I'm safe.
She didn't notice the way the driver avoided the main road.
Didn't notice the subtle shift in direction.
Didn't notice how quickly the airport disappeared behind them.
She didn't notice anything.
Not yet.