The
alley was silent except for their heavy breaths. The city's neon glow flickered
in the distance, reflecting off the damp pavement. Silas ran a hand through his
hair, his pulse still racing from the chase. He stole a glance at Ayla—her arms
crossed, eyes sharp and unreadable.
For
a moment, neither spoke.
Then,
Ayla took a slow step forward, her voice cutting through the tension.
"Start
talking."
Silas
exhaled, already knowing she wouldn't let this go. "About what?"
Ayla's
jaw clenched. "Don't play dumb. You're running from something. And I don't
believe for a second that it's just some bad luck. You knew exactly what you
were doing back there." She narrowed her eyes. "Who are you really?"
Silas
weighed his options. He didn't owe her anything. But she had helped him—whether
she meant to or not. And the way she looked at him now… she wasn't just some
rich girl caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was looking for
something.
Ayla
took another step closer. "What are you hiding?"
Silas
met her gaze, his voice even. "What about you? You're not just here for a
vacation. You've been asking questions. About your father."
A
flicker of surprise crossed Ayla's face before she masked it. "How do you know
that?"
Silas
gave a small, knowing smirk. "You think I didn't notice? You were in that hotel
lobby for a reason. And you weren't exactly blending in at the bar either."
Ayla's
fingers curled into fists, but she held her ground. "My father's death wasn't
an accident. I know that much."
Silas's
stomach tightened. A father. Gone. A so-called accident.
For
a second, an image flashed in his mind—his own father, a lifeless body, blood
pooling beneath him. A debt that was never repaid.
He
shoved the memory aside. Focus.
Silas
watched her carefully. "And you think the people after me are connected to
him?"
Ayla
hesitated. "I don't believe in coincidences."
Silas
didn't either. And that was the problem.
He
ran a hand over his face, glancing down the alley. They weren't safe yet. He
needed to move. But Ayla… she was in deeper than she realized.
He
exhaled. "Listen, you don't want to be involved in this."
Ayla
huffed a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Too late."
Before
Silas could answer, a faint noise caught his attention. Footsteps. Slow.
Measured. Someone was approaching.
His
muscles tensed.
Ayla
noticed too. She turned slightly, her voice dropping. "We have company."
Silas's
mind worked fast. He'd been in situations like this before. The docks. Three
years ago. Zayn's voice in his earpiece. 'You have ten seconds, Silas. Move.'
He
grabbed Ayla's wrist. "Time to go."