Craved by the Wrong Volkov-Chapter 303: No return

Braelyn’s POV

The car merged smoothly onto the main road, blending into late afternoon traffic as if nothing unusual had happened. My pulse was still hammering in my ears, every passing second feeling like borrowed time.

I couldn’t believe I was actually doing this. It was the craziest thing ever. I knew exactly where I was running to. A city dad mentioned in the past where he and mum meant. My gaze fell on the rare mirror locking eyes with Adrien. He was Genny’s little brother a few years younger than her around 23 years old.

Adrien glanced back at me from the passenger seat. "Check the handbag beside you," he said calmly.

I looked down at the plain leather bag resting near my thigh. It was not mine. My fingers trembled slightly as I opened it. Inside was a neatly arranged stack of cash, several bank cards, a new mobile phone still sealed in its box, and an identity card bearing a different name but my photograph. Aurora Johnson was born in 1998. 2 years older than me

I swallowed.

"You cannot use your identity yet," Adrien continued. "Not until things cool down. For now, you are invisible. No calls to anyone you know. No logging into old accounts. That phone is clean and unregistered. Aurora is an immigrant who just got her green card. Someone with no family."

I nodded slowly, absorbing every word.

He adjusted his seat slightly before continuing, his tone shifting into something more structured. "We will stop at a roadside motel in about twenty minutes. You will change again and switch to a different vehicle. Your luggage is already waiting in the room. Genny purchased everything in cash. Nothing traces back to you."

"And after that?" I asked quietly. My pause was roaring at this point. Fingers secretly twitching.

"The second car will take you to the train station. Your ticket is in the bag. It is under the name on the new identity. You will board the train and remain on it until the second-to-last stop. Do not go to the final destination." he emphasised the last statement

"Why not the last stop?" I asked.

"Too predictable," he replied without hesitation. "Anyone tracking patterns would assume you ride to the end."

I exhaled slowly, trying to steady myself.

"At the next town," he continued, "someone will approach you. They will say your new name and mention the colour of your suitcase. If they do not say both correctly, you walk away. Do not hesitate or argue, just leave."

"And the car?" I asked.

"It will be waiting in a public area. Confirm the number plate before getting in. It has already been sent to the phone in the bag."

My hands tightened around the leather strap.

"That car takes you to the port," Adrien said. "From there, you will be transported to your final location."

He turned slightly to look at me properly. "Do you understand all of that?"

"I think so," I replied, though my voice felt distant to my own ears. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

"We have to avoid the Volkov radar at all costs," he added. "Your husband has resources, private investigators, digital surveillance, and political connections. The moment he suspects a pattern, he will pull every string available." My stomach churned Raphael might not be the only one searching for me.

I stared out the window, watching the city blur past.

"And my money?" I asked after a moment.

Adrien gave a small smile. "Already handled. It has been donated to a registered charity foundation. On paper, you decided to support humanitarian projects. In reality, the foundation is one of ours. The funds are clean now."

"How much?" I asked.

"A couple of million," he answered evenly. "Enough for you to stay low comfortably. When the dust settles, you can return and reclaim what is legally yours."

I studied him for a second. "Your family is very resourceful."

"The Moreau family has... connections," he said carefully. I smiled. It was because of their connections that I trusted Genny to handle this. The Moreau had a respectable front. Investments, real estate, hospitality but there were older ties as well. Not deep enough to put the police behind them but deep enough to help someone disappear when necessary

The car slowed as a faded neon sign flickered ahead. It was already past 5. The train leaves at 6 pm.

The motel looked exactly like the sort of place people forgot about. Peeling paint, dim lights, and a parking lot with more empty spaces than cars. No visible cameras and no curious receptionist peering through glass.

The driver parked discreetly.

Adrien stepped out first and motioned for me to follow. The air smelled of damp concrete and petrol. He led me straight to a room near the end of the corridor, unlocking it with a key card.

Inside, a small suitcase rested on the bed.

"I will wait outside," he said. "Take your time, but not too long."

I nodded and shut the door behind me.

For a moment, I just stood there, listening to the muffled hum of traffic. It was a roadside motel and the walls were thin. Then I opened the suitcase. Inside I picked out a simple outfit. A pair of baggy trousers, an oversized hoodie, worn trainers, and a face cap..

After sorting the clothes, I changed quickly, stuffing the previous outfit into the suitcase. When I finished, I walked to the small mirror above the dresser.

The woman staring back at me did not look like Mrs Volkov. She looked like someone you would not remember twice on a train. My make up were wiped clean and I looked tired.

I adjusted the cap lower and inhaled deeply, forcing my racing thoughts into order. This was happening. There was no turning back.

When I stepped outside, Adrien looked up from his phone and gave an approving nod.

"Better," he said quietly. Then led me back down.

He walked me towards another vehicle parked further down. This one was a small Audi, an old model something you would never imagine Mrs Volkov to ride in.

He stopped by the rear door and looked at me for a moment longer than necessary. "After this point, I do not exist," he said. "If anyone asks, you have never met me."

"I understand," I replied.

He gave a faint smile that mirrored his sister’s. "Good luck, Braelyn."

I hesitated for half a second before opening the door and getting inside.

The driver did not speak. The engine started almost immediately, and the car pulled away from the motel without drawing attention.

As we merged back onto the road, I did not look back.