"Viktor!" I screamed.

"He's not here?" Zen whipped around to face me.

"He was supposed to be right behind me—"

No. This is not happening right now. No way. He can't be dead. I refuse to believe this.

"I can't find him anywhere." Zen was panting as he just ran around to look.

"No, no, no, no, no!" I dropped to my knees, burying my face in my hands.

"I'm... I'm so sorry." Zen crouched beside me and put his hand on my shoulder.

Zen stayed right by my side, as I felt the heat from the flames, the remains of the warehouse now just a pile of ash. I was crying non-stop for who knows how long before I heard the sound of sirens.

"Shit. We have to go now." Zen pulled me up from the ground and led the way.

Once again, someone I cared about had died. I was a parasite; anyone who came near me or got too close died. Viktor, my only friend since Zari, the only one who believed we could actually find out the whole truth. I still couldn't believe he was gone. Barely minutes ago, he was still alive. And now, I was left all alone again.

I lost track of time as we kept walking, except for the slow burning in my legs. After the events of the day, all I wanted to do was curl up in a bed and cry myself to sleep.

Just when I thought my legs would give out, we stopped in front of a small trailer in the middle of nowhere.

"This is my brother's place. He works the night shifts, so no one is home. Let's get you cleaned up, okay?" Zen said in a comforting voice. I simply nodded in response, too tired to voice my thoughts.

I sat on the sofa while Zen made some tea in the kitchen, still processing what had happened. It happened all too fast.

"There you go," he said as he handed me the tea. I replied with a soft 'thank you.'

The tea had a comforting vanilla and cranberry flavor, very relaxing. For a moment, I pretended to forget everything that had happened.

He cleared his throat, unsure how to start. "You know, I still don't know your name."

"Alveanea."

"That's a nice name." He gave me a small smile, but I couldn't return it.

"Do you need anything?" he asked softly.
"I need a phone. Need to call someone."

"Here, you can use mine. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me." He left the room, giving me some privacy.

I opened the phone and took the business card from Breton I had stuffed deep into my pocket. Thankfully, Luis and his men hadn't noticed it.

I took a deep breath and dialled his number. My finger was centimetres away from the call button, but I hesitated. Why did I need to continue this? Viktor was dead. But, I felt my hand subconsciously touching the necklace Nikita gave me and felt the engraving on it. I knew all too well what it said.

Endure till the end.

I can't give up, I'm far too deep in now, and Viktor would want me to finish this. I have no choice but to involve Breton now.

"Hello?" Breton's voice came from the other end.

"Hi. I don't know if you remember me, I'm that girl you met in Moscow. I accidentally crashed into you..."

"Right, yes, I remember. The girl on a mission?" I smiled at that. He remembered me.

"Yes, well, I'm in a bit of a situation and I need your help."

"What can I do for you?"

I took a deep breath, nervous as I had no idea what to expect from him. "I'm in Thailand now. And I need you to book me a flight to Spain."

"It just so happens that I'm in Spain for a business trip. I'll book the tickets right away. When will you be coming here?" I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"Tomorrow morning."

"Is 9.30 alright?"

"Yep." I said, popping the 'p'.

"You have a passport?"

"Yeah, the name on it is Tiana Zima." A pang went through my heart while saying that.
"Got it, and is that your real name? If you don't mind me asking," he added the last part quickly.

"Alveanea."

"That's a unique name."

I couldn't help the small smile on my lips. "Thanks. I owe you a lot, Breton."

"Not a problem, Miss." We both chuckled at that, remembering when I bumped into him.
There was a  moment of silence before I broke it, "I have to go. I'll check in with you tomorrow with another phone. This is someone else's."

"See you soon, Alveanea," he replied and I hung up.

I finished my last bit of the tea and headed into the kitchen to look for Zen.

"Thanks for the phone call," I said and put his phone on the table.

He took a sip of whatever he was having. "No worries. You need a ride back to where you were staying?"

Twenty minutes later, we arrived in front of the hotel Viktor and I were staying at.

"Tha—"

"Don't say thanks. Your friend died tonight, and it was my fault..." Zen trailed off and I saw the guilt in his eyes.

"No, it was not. They would have hurt the people we care about..."

Marlene. She didn't know yet. Shit, I still needed to tell her about Viktor. But I pushed that thought to the back of my head.

"All the best on finding what you want. And if you need me, call me. Anytime." He handed me a small piece of paper with his phone number scrawled on it.

"You too. Take care." And I leaned forward to hug him.

I spent nearly half an hour convincing the receptionist about locking myself out of the room before she finally sent someone to open the door for me. When I entered the room, seeing Viktor's luggage on the floor, I felt overwhelmed once more. Tears were spilling out of my eyes uncontrollably while packing his things up and packing up mine as well.
Then, I took a long and much-needed shower, hoping to wash away all negative emotions. I cried myself to sleep that night, thinking of how alone I was, alone in this hotel room, alone in a foreign country, alone in this world with only strangers to turn to. I only managed to sleep for about two hours, waking up at six in the morning. I got ready, checked myself out of the hotel, and headed to the airport. But before that, I had to dump Viktor's belongings somewhere and take hold of whatever cash he had left. Then, I went to a nearby store to get a burner phone. I quickly saved both Breton's and Zen's number, dialling the former straight away.

"Hi, it's Alveanea," I said as soon as the call went through.

"Hey, so your flight will be at Terminal 3, boarding zone 18e. I have someone waiting for you there and he'll pass you your ticket."

"Got it. Um, I need your help again to contact someone from Moscow, someone who works at a diner called Adequate Dining."

"Okay, I'll have the diner's contact by the time you get here. Have a safe flight."

As soon as I was at the terminal, a guy approached me, just as Breton had mentioned, and handed me the ticket that said it was a first class. Holy shit. He must be damn rich.

Apparently, I was invited to be in a luxurious waiting lounge. So, I sat in the corner, drinking an iced peach tea and eating some grilled cheese when my phone vibrated.

The message read:

I heard about what happened.

I immediately knew who it was and saved the contact back to 'Friend?' again.

How did this person keep track of me? I knew I probably shouldn't have trusted whoever they were, but I couldn't help feeling like I could. It's the same feeling I had with Breton. I barely even knew him, but I somehow trusted him with my life, which was exactly what I was doing.

Me: How did u get this number?

'Friend?': I have my ways. R u on your way to Spain now?

I scanned my surroundings to see if anyone was spying on me, just in case. I was the only person in the lounge, with the exception of the waiter behind the bar.

Me: So u r stalking me now?

'Friend?': I call it keeping track of you.

Me: As if that helps.

Just then, there's another text, but from Breton this time.

Breton: I'll be waiting for u once u come out from the exit.

"Passengers from flight G356 to Spain, please be at the boarding station in ten minutes. Thank you," a female voice announced.

The flight was definitely pleasant with flight attendants being at service every half an hour and having such a big space to yourself compared to the economy class. That's why I was able to fall asleep for five hours straight, and also because I got barely any sleep last night.

In the remaining time, I started planning how to get to Felon. If I tried the same plan again, it would be useless since they would not allow us to talk to Felon without a solid cause. And I also could not risk him finding out I'm still alive.

But, I recalled something Zen had said about Felon having a grudge against the Spanish royal family. There was only one thing I could do—find out what that grudge was, and use it against him. Now the difficult part was contacting the Spanish royal family.

How the hell am I supposed to do that?

After I went through security and collected my luggage, I headed towards the exit, looking for Breton. Black hair with a few strokes of white, blue eyes, small stubble.
A hand grasped my shoulder.

"Alveanea."

I turned around to face him, a smile already spreading on my face. Suddenly, I felt this sense of security enveloping me—a safety I hadn't felt since this whole thing started.

"Breton. It's good to see you again."