Craved by the Wrong Volkov-Chapter 304: Departure

Braelyn’s POV

I stared out the window as Adrien’s figure gradually shrank, disappearing from my line of sight. My hand rose to my chest, pressing against the steady thump of my heart. It raced like it might burst from my ribcage, and I had to remind myself to breathe. Everything was finally in motion, yet the nerves twisted inside me like a live thing.

The driver remained silent throughout the ride, eyes fixed on the road ahead. We merged onto the highway, heading towards the train station. Every minute felt like an eternity. My fingers brushed the phone in my bag, and it vibrated faintly, drawing my attention. I unlocked it, expecting nothing, and found a message from an unknown number.

Unknown: Have a safe trip. G. M

It was Genevieve Moreau. I didn’t reply, but a small, crooked smile tugged at my lips. Somehow, her presence—even in a brief text—gave me reassurance. I wondered, with a flicker of smug satisfaction, how long it would take Jeremy to realise I was gone.

The Audi slowed and pulled up near the station curb.

"We are here," the driver said through the rearview mirror, his brown eyes unreadable.

"Thank you," I murmured, sliding the door open and stepping onto the pavement. He simply nodded and drove off. I crouched slightly to lift the suitcase from the boot. It was heavier than I expected, but manageable.

Standing upright, I took a slow breath, watching the movement of the station for a moment. People moved in every direction, luggage rolling and feet scuffing against the tiles. The hum of voices collided with the train sounds. I felt my pulse spike as the moment drew closer.

After releasing a long breath, I dragged my suitcase behind me and moved quickly, weaving through clusters of people. My eyes constantly scanned the scene.

Uniformed officers patrolled the platforms, and I ducked their gaze to stay hidden. Cameras blinked red from the ceiling, and I kept my head low, slipping past groups of travellers, trying not to seem suspicious.

I stared at the ticket in my hand, comparing the numbers to find the right loading gate. The train station felt like a maze.

A loud announcement rang out.

6 PM SOUTH TRAIN IS ABOUT TO DEPART. ALL PASSENGERS SHOULD PROCEED TO THE LOADING GATE.

My stomach churned. Where was that gate? I stood stranded, unsure. It was my first time using the station; not something I was proud of.

Lost in thought, I didn’t hear footsteps rushing towards me until a man bumped into me. I barely caught sight of his face. He hurriedly apologised.

"I’m sorry, I have to catch the 6 pm train," he blurted, before rushing off with his backpack.

I didn’t get a clear look at his face, but I glimpsed his ticket. My eyes lit up. It was the same train. I didn’t waste a second and quickly chased after him, dragging my luggage behind me.

As expected, he was indeed heading for the same gate. I confirmed the number twice with my ticket and got in line. He was a few people ahead of me.

At the loading gate, the line for my train was short but still crowded. The train had less than thirty minutes left before departure.

It wasn’t an airport, yet passports and tickets were still necessary for international travel. My fingers trembled slightly as I retrieved the new identity card and passport Adrien had provided.

Eventually, it was my turn.

"Ticket and identification, please," the inspector requested. I slid the documents across the counter, forcing my breathing to relax while keeping my hands steady.

The inspector accepted my documents. His gaze lingered for a while before scanning the pages again. My heart raced, palms secretly sweating.

He lingered, scanning each detail meticulously. My chest tightened as each second stretched longer than the last. I gritted my teeth and stayed silent, reminding myself that Adrien had prepared everything flawlessly.

Finally, he looked up and muttered the name, "Aurora Johnson." His voice sounded strange, but he stamped the passport.

Relief flooded through me in a shaky exhale as I proceeded to luggage inspection. I pushed the suitcase through the scanner and watched it pass without issue. A small nod from the staff gave me the green light, and I stepped onto the train, trying to appear casual despite my nerves.

According to Adrien’s logic, a regular ticket was the best fit. The regular carriage was too basic for me, but I wasn’t in a position to argue.

Several rows of seats stretched in tight lines, already filled with passengers speaking softly to each other. There were just a few empty seats since the train was about to depart.

I dragged my bag, scanning for an empty window seat. Luckily, with the train attendant’s guidance, I located one. I quickly moved over and prepared to lift my suitcase.

As I lifted it to place it overhead, I lost balance because of the weight, and it slipped from my hands. Before it fell, a strong pair of hands caught it. A musky cologne hit me.

I looked up into a face that made me start slightly. A man in his fifties, striking even at that age, with grey eyes and chocolate hair streaked with silver.

"Let me help you." He steadied the luggage. On closer inspection, I realised it was the man from earlier who had bumped into me.

He gave me a faint nod after he was done, then took the free seat beside me. I was taken aback for a moment before I snapped out of it.

"I... thank you," I said, my cheeks warming as I sank back into my seat.

"It’s nothing. I should be apologising for earlier. Sorry, I was in a hurry," he replied softly, leaning back and closing his eyes.

I lingered for a moment, unsure what to do with my hands, before lowering myself fully into the seat. Conversations buzzed around me, children fussed, and luggage rattled in the racks overhead. I pressed my hands in my lap, forcing myself to look calm and ordinary.

At exactly 6:00 pm, the train doors clicked shut. A recorded voice announced our departure.

6 PM SOUTH TRAIN HAS DEPARTED

The engine hummed as the train eased out of the station. I pressed my face lightly against the cool window glass and watched the platform shrink behind me.

I was finally leaving without traces