Chapter 1: Wrong Place, Wrong Time
1098 Words
The smell of coffee clung to Elara’s hands no matter how many times she rinsed them. She didn’t mind. She loved the soft, rich scent. It reminded her she was earning her own money now, even if it wasn’t much.
The little café near the train station was her first real job in the city. She’d been working there for only two weeks, but it already felt like a tiny corner of safety in a place that still scared her a little. The morning rush had been busy — students with messy hair grabbing muffins, office workers impatient for their coffee, and tourists asking for the Wi-Fi password like it was the most important thing in the world.
By eleven-thirty, the café had quieted down. Elara wiped the counter, glancing out at the street. The city was still strange to her. Noisy, unpredictable. Back home, she could walk to the market and know almost every face she passed. Here, the crowd was a blur of strangers.
“Take your break,” her coworker, Nina, said, tossing her a smile. “Before the lunch wave hits.”
Elara nodded, slipped off her apron, and stepped outside. The air was cool, and the sky was cloudy, with a hint of rain in the breeze. She leaned against the brick wall for a moment, just breathing in the city air.
Her eyes wandered to the alley beside the café. It was narrow and shadowed, a shortcut to the street behind. She’d never gone down there — Nina had once warned her it was better to stick to the main road. But now she heard voices. Low, sharp, and urgent.
Curiosity pulled her a step closer. She peeked around the corner.
Two men stood a few feet away, one tall and broad-shouldered in a black jacket, the other shorter, wiry, with a nervous glance over his shoulder. The tall man held a small black envelope. The shorter man opened it and slipped out a tiny plastic bag filled with fine white powder.
Elara’s breath caught.
Drugs. She’d never seen them up close before, only in news stories or TV shows.
The tall man’s eyes lifted suddenly, meeting hers. His stare was cold and sharp, like a knife pressing against skin.
“You lost, sweetheart?” His voice was calm in a way that made her skin crawl.
Her pulse jumped. “I— Sorry, I didn’t—”
“Get her,” the other man muttered, his voice low but filled with intent.
Elara’s body reacted before her brain could. She turned and bolted, the sound of her sneakers slapping against the wet pavement echoing in her ears. Her breath came fast, shallow, panic burning in her chest.
She darted onto the main road, weaving between strangers. Her heart thudded as she glanced back — a shadow moved in the alley, then disappeared.
She didn’t stop until she was halfway down the block. She leaned against a shop wall, trying to steady her breathing. Her hands trembled.
What had she just seen?
As she leaned against the wall trying to catch her breath, she noticed one of the men still pursuing her. She pushed herself forward, her heart pounding in her chest, until she almost collided with a sleek black Maserati turning the corner.
The driver, a man in his late twenties with sharp eyes, saw the panic on her face and the man rushing behind her. Without a second thought, he flung open the door.
“Get in!” he ordered.
Too shocked to argue, she stumbled inside. The man slammed the door shut, shifted gears, and the car roared forward.
Behind them, the dealer cursed loudly, waving his arms as the Maserati disappeared into the traffic.
She pressed her back into the leather seat, breathing hard, still trying to process what just happened. The stranger glanced at her briefly, one hand steady on the wheel.
“You want to tell me why a guy looked ready to kill you back there?” he asked.
“I… I didn’t do anything,” she stammered. “I just… I saw something I wasn’t supposed to.”
His brow tightened. “Let me guess—something illegal?”
She nodded, clutching her knees as if holding herself together. “They were dealing… behind the café. They saw me watching.”
The man exhaled, almost like he wasn’t surprised. “And you ran.”
“What else was I supposed to do?” she shot back, finally finding her voice.
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he turned the car sharply down a quieter street. “Well, congratulations,” he said dryly. “Now you’ve dragged me into it too.”
Her stomach dropped. “Wait… who are you?”
He smirked faintly, eyes fixed on the road. “The guy who just saved your life. Name’s Adrian. And you?”
She hesitated, then muttered, “Elara.”
“Well, Elara,” he said, slowing the car just enough to meet her gaze, “whatever you saw—those people won’t stop. You’ve got yourself in something deep. And now… so have I.”
—-
“Some guy took her with him in his car,” the man muttered when he got back to the café, still breathing heavily from the chase. His shirt stuck to his skin with sweat, his jaw tight with frustration.
The other man’s expression darkened, his fist clenching so tightly his knuckles turned white. He cursed under his breath, slamming his palm against the side of the table. “Well, she saw our faces. That girl knows what we were doing. If she talks…” His eyes burned with anger. “We can’t let that happen. We’ll chase her down, no matter where she hides, until we’re sure she stays quiet.”
The first man glanced nervously around the café. The clink of glasses and the chatter of customers went on as if nothing had happened, but he could feel sweat prickling the back of his neck. “What if the guy in the car recognizes us too? Did you see him clearly?”
“No,” the second man growled. “But it doesn’t matter. We’ll find out who he is soon enough. And when we do, he’ll regret getting involved in something that doesn’t concern him.”
He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “For now, we wait. She won’t disappear forever. People like her—curious, foolish—they always slip up. And when she does…” His lips twisted into a cruel smile.
- Writer
