Within an hour, their bags were packed, and Leon's private jet stood ready on the runway. The flight crew moved efficiently, stowing luggage and preparing the cabin, but Ayla barely noticed. She sat in one of the plush seats, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea she hadn't touched, staring blankly out the window.
Leon settled beside her, one hand resting lightly on her knee. He didn't speak; he knew words wouldn't soothe the storm in her chest. Instead, he stayed close, a steady presence amid the chaos in her head.
The engines roared to life, and soon the city beneath them faded into a patchwork of clouds and sky. Ayla's thoughts kept circling—memories of her father's voice, his strict but protective nature, their arguments, and the few rare moments when he'd let affection slip past his guard. It was strange, the way grief dug its claws in—not just for the man he had been, but for the moments they'd never get to share.
Halfway through the flight, Leon leaned toward her. "Nico says Kalen's stable. He's waiting for us at a private hospital outside the city. The place is secure—no one will get to him there."
She gave a faint nod. "Thank you… for all of this."
His gaze softened. "You don't need to thank me. Protecting you—and your family when I can—isn't something I do out of obligation, Ayla. It's because I want to."
After some minutes of silence, her phone buzzed. The name flashing on the screen made her hesitate—Elise. Leon glanced at her, but Ayla answered anyway.
"Ayla," Elise's voice came through soft and sympathetic. "I just heard about Damien… I'm so, so sorry. I can't imagine how much you must be hurting right now."
Ayla's throat tightened. "Thank you," she murmured, unsure how to respond without unraveling.
"You two were so close," Elise continued gently. "If you need someone to talk to, or if you just want to get away from everything, I'm here for you."
Ayla gave a polite response before hanging up, but the unease in her chest grew. She didn't have the energy to explain the truth.
Minutes later, Jean called with a similar tone. "Ayla… I just heard the news about Damien. I'm so sorry for your loss. You must be devastated."
Her voice cracked slightly as she replied, "Thank you, Jean. I appreciate it."
Neither Elise nor Jean knew the truth—that she had been at the villa when the "gas malfunction" happened, and that the story of an accidental explosion was Leon's calculated cover-up. They thought she was simply a grieving girlfriend, not the woman caught in the middle of a dangerous web of lies and betrayal.
Leon noticed the way Ayla's fingers trembled as she ended the second call. He wanted to take her hand, to shield her from everything, but he stayed quiet. For now, silence was the only comfort he could offer.
By the time they landed, the late afternoon sky had turned to a deep gold. Black SUVs waited on the tarmac, ready to take them straight to the hospital.
When they entered Kalen's room, Ayla froze in the doorway. He was sitting up in bed, his injuries minor compared to what she had feared.
Her voice broke. "Kalen…"
She crossed the room in seconds, throwing her arms around him. Kalen, surprised but relieved, held her tightly. "I'm okay, Ayla. I'm here. You don't have to cry."
Leon stood back, watching silently. For a brief moment, he let himself be grateful—at least she still had this piece of her family left.