Chapter 68

Aurora POV

Gianna grabs the baseball cap she’d stuffed into her bag earlier and jams it onto her head, tucking in her dark curls while we climb into the car parked out back behind the motel. The keys are right where Luca left them the last time he drove us to my family’s estate: right under the visor.

I pull on my hoodie up over my head, keeping my head down and my eyes locked onto the rearview mirror as I jam the key into the ignition and turn over the engine.

“I still can’t believe they leave the keys in the damn dar,” Gianna mutters as she buckles her seat belt over her. “They’re lucky this thing never gets stolen.

“Perk of being out in the middle od no where,” I reply. “Or stupidity.”

The engine roars louder than expected, making me wince and turn around to check through the back windshield that no one is stumbling out of our motel room and trying to stop us. Thankfully, Gianna had dosed their drinks with enough sedatives to knock them out for at least half a day, giving us plenty of time to gain a head start.

I throw the car into drive and pull out of the parking lot like we’re just two normal girls heading out for a late-morning snack. Every minute that passes without another car chasing us down feels like borrowed time.

Eventually, Dominic will return. He’ll find we’ve left and the twins on the couches passed out. It won’t take him long to put two and two together. Hopefully he’ll blame Alek first and not suspect Gianna and I missing is because we’ve run.

Gianna cracks the window, practically hanging her head out of it. Her hair whips wildly around her face. “Ugh, I’m stressed. How far away is the airport?”

“I know,” I say, fingers tight around the steering wheel. “We’re only a half hour out. Don’t throw up on me just yet..”

The city blurs by in streaks of cars and traffic lights. I can feel her watching the side mirrors at the same time as me. Both of us check the rearview more often than we’ve got our eyes on the traffic in front of us.

But every time a black car that appears behind us looking exactly like Dominic’s makes my stomach clench. Every time it turns off, I exhale like I’ve been holding my breath for miles.

“How long do you think it will take them to notice we’re gone?” Gianna asks.

“At least an hour.” But hopefully more.

His meetings with my family usually last half the day. If they haven’t already torn each other’s heads off and called the meeting early, we’ve got plenty of time to ditch the car, get through security and board our plane.

All that has to happen is no divine intervention blocking our path.

The GPS ticks off the remaining miles. Ten. Then eight. Then five.

The closer we get, the more the silence in the car shifts—from dread to something closer to anticipation. We’re actually doing this. We’re slipping out from under the nose of a man who has been hellbent on keeping me under his thumb since the day I met him.

Since the day I’d had the unfortunate luck of sleeping with before I ever knew better.

I push the memories of us together down. Deep down until they no longer make me clench my fingers around the steering wheel. I can’t afford to think about him right now, anyway. Not when the only reason I’m free is because I finally found the courage to run.

When we reach the airport, I drive past the departures drop-off, turning into the long-term parking lot like we’re just travelers returning a rental. I park us in a corner farthest from the security booths, killing the engine before sitting in the stillness for a moment.

Gianna lets out a shaky breath. “Okay. One thing down.”

“Let’s move.”

We grab our bags and leave the keys in the glove box, not bothering to lock the doors as we shut them and head for the terminal. The walk isn’t long but the way my heart is pounding with each step has me gasping for air by the time the automatic doors open, inviting us in.

We merge with the crowd while heading up to the front desk to collect our tickets that Camilla reserved for us, keeping our eyes down as we make our way through the line.

The agent barely glances at our passports before printing the boarding passes and handing them over to us. Camilla’s documents hold up like she promised they would. Her efficiency is terrifying and, in this case, actually life-saving.

We move through security with minimal hiccups and once we’re at the gate, we sit in silence.

Both of us are too afraid to speak, afraid that even whispering will break the spell and suddenly we’ll have not only Dominic coming to collect us but our families as well. This sudden gift of freedom is fragile, temporary. Someone could be watching us, waiting to snatch it away at a moment’s notice.

Thankfully, no one comes.

When they call our boarding group, we get on the plane without a single person stopping us or accusing us of having fake documents. We find our seats in the back, stow our bags, and sit.

I grip the armrest until my knuckles turn white as the plane taxis down the runway, Gianna reaches over and grabs my hand as we take off.

I look at her. She’s pale, her eyes are red-rimmed, and I can tell she’s been holding back tears for the past hour.

“We did it,” she says, voice shaking. “We’re really leaving.”

I nod, squeezing her hand when we finally lift into the air. I feel the weight of gravity loosen its grip on my body and finally let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding this entire time.

As the world below grows infinitely smaller, I can’t help the hysterical laugh that bubbles up in my throat.

We’re free.

We’re finally free.

Gianna starts crying softly beside me, wrapping her arms around me before burying her face in my shoulder. I press my forehead against the window and watch the city disappear beneath a curtain of clouds.

As much as I hate to admit it, some part of me aches.

Not for the life we left behind but for the man I almost believed in. The one who had started to look at me like I was something precious. The one who said “I’ll see you soon” like he meant was looking forward to it.

But he’s not a man I can trust. He’s a psychopath.

I have to remember that.

I have to keep remembering that or else I’m going to wind up calling him and telling him to come get me. Whatever soft pieces he gave me—whatever version of “Dominic” he let me see—isn’t real and doesn’t erase what he’s capable of. It doesn’t make me safe in his hands.

But God help me, a part of me wishes things could’ve been different.

That he could’ve been different, too.

We land in Mexico late that night. The air is warm and thick with humidity but it feels wonderful to have our feet back on solid ground. It’s a world away from the cold, concrete nightmare we’ve been living in.

We grab a cab, give the driver an address to a hotel Camilla chose for us to stay in until we find more permanent residency, and then settle back into our seats. Exhaustion weights on me heavily. When we get there, it’s nothing fancy but it’s clean and ours and no one looks at us twice when we arrive.

We’re just two girls traveling together on what looks like a Spring break vacation. Nothing out of the ordinary and nothing that would send anyone looking into us or why we’re here in the first place.

One the door closes behind us with a quiet click, we both slide down against it, exhausted from our travels.

But we made it.

Gianna leans her head on my shoulder. “I can’t believe we’re actually here.”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “We really did.”

I don’t sleep well that night. Every time I close my eyes, I see Dominic in my dreams. He’s not angry at me for leaving.

He’s simply disappointed.

That’s harder to bear than anything I ever thought.