"What? Why do you act like we already know each other before?"
Fredrich studied Lina for a long mont, and then turned, walking toward the panoramic window of the jet. Outside, clouds rolled past, bathed in the golden light of a descending sun.
"Nothing," he said. "You’re soone who’s running. And soone who might need a place to land, so I will offer it to you . . . with no cost."
She didn’t believe that for a second.
She sat down again, curling her legs underneath her, and glanced toward Fredrich.
"Do you always bring runaways ho with you?"
He smiled faintly, not looking at her. "Only the ones interesting enough to sneak into my bed."
Lina sat back, her heart still fluttering, unsure whether it was from the adrenaline or from Fredrich’s unnervingly calm aura. The tension had eased, but the questions were piling up.
She glanced at him again, watching as he poured himself a glass of water from a sleek crystal decanter, every movent smooth, practiced—aristocratic.
He was beautiful, yes, but in the sa way fire was beautiful: srizing and dangerous if you weren’t careful.
"Where are we going?" she finally asked, voice quiet.
Fredrich raised the glass to his lips, took a sip, and looked at her over the rim. "Greece."
Lina blinked. "Greece?"
He gave a small nod, as if it were the most natural destination in the world.
Her pulse quickened. "I can’t go to Greece. I need to get to England."
Fredrich arched a brow. "You slipped onto my jet without an invitation—surely you didn’t expect a smooth ride."
"I didn’t expect to end up in an entirely different country," she muttered.
Fredrich set the glass down on a silver tray beside him and turned to face her fully, his expression curious now.
"Why England?"
"My grandparents," Lina said, brushing her tangled hair back from her face. "They’re expecting . They’re the only family I have left."
Sothing softened in Fredrich’s expression, almost imperceptibly. He didn’t interrupt. He just watched her, the way soone listens to a story that touches sothing deeper in themselves.
"I was planning to live with them for a while," Lina continued. "Just until I figured things out. Away from . . ." She hesitated, unwilling to say Christian’s na. "From soone."
Fredrich nodded slowly. "And does this soone know where you’re going?"
She shook her head. "I didn’t tell him. That’s kind of the point."
He leaned back in his seat, stretching his legs with relaxed elegance. "Then perhaps this accidental detour is a blessing in disguise."
"How do you figure?" she asked skeptically.
"Well," he said, eyes glinting with sothing unreadable, "if this ’soone’ has any power or reach, he might be looking for you in England. He won’t think to look in Greece. At least not imdiately."
Lina tilted her head, surprised by the logic. He wasn’t wrong. As far as Christian was concerned, she hadn’t made it out of the country yet. The longer she stayed off-grid, the better her chances.
Fredrich watched her quietly. "If you want, I can have soone contact your grandparents. Let them know you’re safe."
"I . . . thank you," Lina said, caught off guard by his unexpected kindness.
He offered a faint smile. "You’re welco. For now, rest. When we land in Greece, we’ll figure out the next step together."
Lina hesitated, then nodded. For the first ti in days, she felt like maybe—just maybe—she had a little control over her fate again.
Lina leaned back against the soft leather seat, her fingers still gripping the handle of her carry-on bag like it might vanish if she let go. She didn’t know if she was feeling safer or just more exhausted. Maybe both.
Fredrich had gone quiet, returning to his seat across from her. He picked up a tablet and began tapping through sothing, his sharp profile lit by the golden hue of sunset pouring through the oval windows.
The silence between them was not awkward, but rather suspended—as if both were holding their breath, unsure of what to do next.
"You’re very calm for soone who just found a stranger hiding on their plane," Lina said finally, her voice dry.
Fredrich glanced at her, a corner of his mouth twitching in amusent. "I’ve had stranger surprises. And you don’t seem like much of a threat."
Lina raised an eyebrow. "That sounds dangerously close to ’harmless’."
"Not harmless," he corrected, his gaze steady. "But . . . desperate. And desperation doesn’t always co with malice."
There was sothing about the way he said it. Like he’d seen that desperation before. Maybe in himself. Or maybe in soone he’d once known.
Lina tucked her knees up to her chest and hugged them gently. The cabin was too large, too luxurious, too quiet.
A part of her kept waiting for soone to wake her up and tell her this was all a strange dream brought on by exhaustion and fear.
"How long until we land?" she asked softly.
"Three more hours."
"Three?"
He gave a light shrug. "Private jets fly faster. You’ll find that the world moves a bit differently when you’re up here."
She laughed under her breath. "That’s one way to put it."
Fredrich leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You can sleep if you want. There’s a private bedroom behind that door. Or stay here. Either way, you’re safe now."
It was strange hearing those words—you’re safe. They sounded foreign, like sothing she hadn’t heard in years and forgot she needed. Her throat tightened, but she nodded.
He stood and turned toward the cockpit, saying sothing to the crew. Monts later, one of the attendants reappeared—a tall woman in a dark suit, her face composed and professional.
"Miss," she said gently, "if you’d like to freshen up or rest, I can show you the guest quarters."
Lina looked toward Fredrich, who only nodded once before disappearing through the cockpit door.
Still wary but unwilling to push her luck, Lina followed the woman past a sleek hallway lined with polished wood panels and dim lighting.
The room she was led to was more extravagant than any hotel she’d ever stayed in. A queen-sized bed with crisp sheets, soft golden light, a vanity, and even a rainfall shower in the adjoining bathroom.
Reviews
All reviews (0)