Chapter 13: Chapter Thirteen.

"I'm so sorry this vacation has to be cut short." Elena said, her voice trembling as she hugged Xena tightly.

They stood near the gate at the airport, the bustle of travelers around them contrasting with the heaviness of their goodbye.

Xena hugged her back, her grip firm and reassuring.

"Hey, come on." she said, pulling away slightly to look Elena in the eyes.

"At least we’re being safe, right? Besides, I can always come see you in Paris." She added the last part teasingly, a small smile tugging at her lips, hoping to ease the tension.

Elena’s eyes brimmed with tears, and she quickly wiped them away, laughing weakly.

"Hey, hey, don’t cry, you silly thing." Xena said, her tone soft but playful.

Elena sighed, shaking her head. "I pulled you into a mess, Xena. I’m so sorry. The least I can do is get you out of here. He’s not a—"

"Stop." Xena interrupted, her tone firm but gentle. "It’s not your fault, okay? And I’m just glad we made it out of there together. No worries." She offered Elena a grin. "And like I said, I can always come to Paris. Maybe then you can hook me up with one of those dreamy French guys."

Elena laughed through her tears, the tension easing slightly. "You’re impossible." she said, shaking her head.

"When’s your flight to Paris?" Xena asked, her expression softening.

"Tonight." Elena replied with a sigh. "My manager couldn’t get me a morning flight, so I’ll be leaving late. Just a few more hours to get through."

Xena frowned slightly. "Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own? I could—"

"No, no, please." Elena interrupted, holding up a hand. "I’ll be fine. After this, I’ll grab my things and move to a hotel until my flight."

Xena swallowed hard. "W-why? He doesn’t know where you live. I think—"

"Xena." Elena cut her off, her voice suddenly serious. "This is Viktor Sokolov we’re talking about. The Don himself. You stood in his way, interrupted him mid-operation, and he let us go. Do you really think a man like that wouldn’t know where we live?"

Xena bit her lip nervously but nodded.

"Exactly. Staying at the apartment feels too risky. I’ll be safe in a hotel for a few hours."

"Okay." Xena said reluctantly. "Just... be safe, okay? And take care of yourself."

As if on cue, the announcement over the loudspeaker called for the passengers of Xena’s flight to begin boarding.

Xena turned back to Elena, pulling her into one last hug. "You’d better call me the second you land in Paris, or I’ll never forgive you."

"I will." Elena said, her voice breaking slightly. She pulled back and forced a smile. "And my regards to Diego, my charming prince, and Nana."

Xena chuckled. "You can tell them yourself on a video call once this madness is over."

The announcement came again, louder this time, and Xena knew she couldn’t delay any longer.

She waved and began walking toward the gate, her suitcase rolling behind her.

Elena stood there, her weak smile faltering as she watched Xena disappear into the crowd.

"Stay safe." she whispered to herself, wrapping her arms around her middle as the weight of the situation settled on her.

♧♧♧

Elena parked her car in the dimly lit lot outside her apartment complex, her mind clouded with exhaustion and anxiety. She gathered her belongings, clutching her phone tightly as if it were a lifeline.

As she entered the building, the metallic whirr of the elevator seemed louder than usual in the stillness of the night.

She leaned against the wall, scrolling through her phone absentmindedly, trying to distract herself from the unsettling feeling that lingered since the airport.

The elevator dinged, pulling her from her thoughts. The doors slid open, revealing the familiar hallway that led to her apartment.

She stepped out, her heels clicking softly against the tiled floor.

Her thoughts were elsewhere, replaying her last moments with Xena and worrying about what the future held for them.

As she approached her door, she reached into her bag for her key card.

That’s when she noticed it—the door was slightly ajar.

Her breath hitched, and her heart began to race. She froze, staring at the door as a chill ran down her spine.

The apartment should be empty. She had locked it before leaving, she was sure of it.

Stepping back instinctively, she fumbled for her phone to call for help, but before she could dial, a cold, metallic object pressed against her lower back.

"Don’t scream." a deep, thickly accented voice ordered from behind her.

Elena’s body stiffened as she realized it was a gun.

"P-please." she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Don’t kill me."

"Go inside." the man commanded, his voice sharp and unyielding.

Elena’s shaky hands reached for the door handle. She pushed it open, her legs trembling as she stepped inside.

What she saw made her blood run cold.

There he was. Viktor Sokolov.

He stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his tall, commanding figure silhouetted against the city.

His broad shoulders were relaxed, but his presence was anything but. He exuded danger, power, and something uncomfortably alluring.

Elena’s knees nearly gave out when she saw the other men in the room, all armed, their cold eyes fixed on her. Viktor remained silent, staring out at the city as if he owned it.

"Such a beautiful sight." Viktor finally said, his voice smooth but menacing. He didn’t turn around, his gaze still fixed on the skyline.

Elena’s chest tightened. She recognized that voice. It was the same voice from the club, but now it seemed darker, more chilling, he sounded Angry. She tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.

Viktor turned slowly, his movements deliberate, like a predator sizing up his prey. When his cold, stormy gray eyes locked onto hers, Elena felt a wave of terror wash over her.

"Where is she?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with a deadly undertone.

Elena swallowed hard, her mouth dry.

"W-who?" She stuttered

"Xena"

"I-I don’t know." she stammered, but her trembling voice betrayed her.

The man behind her cocked his gun, and she whimpered, tears pooling in her eyes.

"Don’t lie to me." Viktor said, his gaze darkening. "I don’t like liars."

"I swear!" she cried, her voice cracking. "She left. She’s gone. I don’t know where she went!"

Elena’s heart pounded in her chest as Viktor’s piercing gaze locked onto hers. She could barely hold his stare, her legs trembling as she struggled to stay upright.

The click of the gun behind her reminded her that one wrong move could mean her end.

"Left?" Viktor repeated, his voice dangerously calm, laced with an accent that made every word feel heavier.

He leaned back in the chair, resting his arms on the armrests like a king surveying his court. "Where did she go?"

Elena opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her mind raced as she tried to decide what to say. She knew lying to this man could be fatal, but telling him the truth could betray her best friend.

"I-I don’t know." she stammered finally, her voice shaking.

Viktor tilted his head, studying her like a predator observing its prey. His lips curled into a humorless smile.

"You don’t know?" he asked mockingly, his tone sending chills down her spine.

"I s-swear" Elena pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "She didn’t tell me. She just—she just left to be safe. Please, I don’t know anything else."

Viktor’s smirk faded, his face hardening. "Safe." he repeated, the word sounding almost foreign in his mouth. "Do you think she’ll be safe from me?"

Elena’s breath hitched as she shook her head desperately. "I—I don’t know! Please, don’t hurt me."

Viktor leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as his stormy gray eyes bore into hers.

"I gave her a chance to leave. I even let her walk out of that club untouched, with you and my hostages. Do you think I do that for everyone, Elena?"

Elena blinked, startled that he knew her name.

"I don’t." he continued, his voice lowering to a menacing growl.

His frame radiating authority as his stormy gray eyes bore into hers, their intensity making her stomach churn.

"By the way." he began, his voice smooth yet menacing, "where are you coming from, if you claim not to know where she went?"

Elena froze, her heart pounding in her chest. Her mind scrambled for an answer, but the weight of his gaze pinned her down like prey in a predator’s sights.

"I... I-I’m..." she stammered, her words faltering as tears began to stream down her face.

"Well?" Viktor pressed, his patience visibly thinning.

"I just went for a walk." she blurted out, the excuse sounding feeble even to her own ears.

Viktor tilted his head, studying her like a specimen under a microscope. His lips curled into a displeased sneer.

"I've hate liars" he said, his tone colder than the grave.

In one swift motion, he pulled a sleek pistol from his pocket and aimed it directly at her head. Elena’s breath caught, her body paralyzed with fear.

The silence was deafening as Viktor pulled the trigger.

*Click*.

No gunshot. No pain. Just the cold, metallic sound of a safety mechanism.

Elena’s knees buckled, and she clutched her chest, hyperventilating as her life flashed before her eyes. Her tears flowed freely now, her body trembling violently.

"That was on safety mode." Viktor said, his voice calm but laced with danger. He leaned closer, his expression deadly serious. "The next shot won’t be. Now, where is she?"

Elena’s lips quivered as she choked out a sob. "I’m sorry, Xena." she whispered under her breath, her voice breaking.

"Italy." she finally confessed, the word barely audible through her tears.

A dark, satisfied smirk tugged at Viktor’s lips. He straightened, slipping the gun back into his pocket with an almost casual ease.

"Thank you for your help, Miss Elena." he said, his tone mockingly polite. His eyes glinted with cruel amusement. "Enjoy your trip to Paris."

Elena’s eyes widened in horror as she realized he knew about her plans to leave. Her mouth opened to speak, but no words came out.

Viktor turned on his heel and walked toward the door, his footsteps echoing ominously in the silence.

His men followed, their cold, unfeeling eyes lingering on her for a moment before they exited the apartment.

The door slammed shut behind them, and the oppressive silence that followed was deafening.

Elena collapsed to the floor, her sobs racking her body. She clutched at her chest, her nails digging into her skin as she cried uncontrollably.

*"I’m sorry, Xena."* she whispered again, her voice hoarse and broken. "*I’m so, so sorry*."

The image of Viktor’s smirk and the sound of the trigger’s click played on repeat in her mind, haunting her.

She had betrayed her friend, but what choice did she have?

How could anyone stand up to a man like Viktor Sokolov and live to tell the tale?