Chapter 4
Sophie
Four Months Later
The weather in Croatia had been perfect since my feet touched the ground back in late March—warm days softened by a coastal breeze accompanied the most beautiful scenery.
Sunlight spilled across terracotta roofs and ancient stone streets, making every stroll out of my apartment feel like I was on the set of some summer romance blockbuster.
At first, I let myself believe that was all it was: a break from everything, a pause.
Then something shifted.
Paranoia—or maybe caution—crept in, growing with each passing day.
I couldn’t point to a moment when it began, only that it did.
I became certain someone was following me, even though I never caught a glimpse of them.
It was in the instinct of that subtle tingling of awareness at the back of your neck.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t ignore that prickling sensation. Or maybe I was losing my mind. That was definitely a possibility.
Whatever the truth was, I couldn’t sit still anymore.
So, I abandoned the little coastal Croatian town and moved. However, wherever I went, a shadow followed.
I told myself I was chasing beauty, history, and coastline.
Anything and everything but fear. I left Pula, Rovinj, and Pore?, drifting through both small towns and larger cities, stopping briefly but never long enough to settle.
Never long enough to get to know anyone but definitely long enough to try out every ice cream shop in town.
I followed the glittering Adriatic south, but the feeling of being followed never loosened its grip.
It surged again—gaining momentum—and once I reached the very south of the country, I crossed the border into Montenegro.
I stayed on the move there too, changing locations just often enough to feel like I was one step ahead of something I couldn’t name.
But even that wasn’t far enough.
By the first week of June, I’d slipped into Albania, carrying the same unease with me, but after a few days, it felt like the shadow had fallen behind, so I decided this was where I’d stay. Clearly, my dart landed in the wrong country, but thankfully, I’d remedied that.
My phone buzzed and I gave my head a subtle shake, chasing away my reminiscing. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know who it was from, despite our six-hour time difference.
I glanced at the screen, just in case I was proven wrong and, of course, I wasn’t.
Kristoff: Can’t you stay put for a bit?
I rolled my eyes.
Me: If you don’t stop stalking me, I’m going to turn that app off and block you.
I agreed to give my cousin access to my location, but he was really taking it a step too far. I was a grown-ass woman and certainly didn’t need him babysitting me.
Kristoff: I’m just checking on you. That’s different from stalking. I stalk my children.
Me: That’s some serious invasion of privacy.
Not that I would admit I fully supported him stalking Sienna.
Me: I’m about to get in the car. No more texting. I’m staying in Albania, but there’s so much of the country to see. You better get used to me moving around. Stop harassing me or I’ll tell your wife.
That’ll teach him. I smiled smugly as I slid my phone into my purse. There was one minor fault I did find in Albania: they drove like goddamn maniacs.
I pushed open the heavy, timber door of the Valbona River Hotel and breathed in the fresh air.
This place felt like a mirage.
It was too quiet and too beautiful here, a stark contrast to my alert and on-edge mental state, but it was definitely doing me some good.
The inn was secluded, tucked deep into the Albanian Alps. After the accident and the near-constant feeling of being watched, I welcomed the absence of that feeling.
It was only the beginning of June, yet every media outlet insisted the Albanian coast was baking under summer heat. I looked forward to experiencing it for myself, though I felt no urgency to rush there. For now, the air around me was crisp and clean, scented with pine and cool river stone.
Everything about the place worked to quiet the lingering angst of the past year.
The stillness, the clarity, the sense of distance from things that happened back home.
I had no doubt anymore that leaving the States had been the right choice, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so at ease.
I focused on something simple, like my white polka-dot dress fluttering in the breeze and the sunlight glancing off the hood of my rented SUV parked at the far edge of the lot.
I chose that parking spot deliberately for its easy exit. It’d become a habit to seek out available escape strategies.
A cool gust of wind swept through the valley, brushing my cheeks and snapping my dress upward.
“Whoa,” I muttered, clutching the hem.
“Thank you for staying with us, Dr. Baldwin.” The concierge’s voice startled me, and I whirled around to find him approaching with my key and a polite smile. “Your bags have been loaded into your vehicle.”
“Thank you,” I retorted evenly, accepting it with the friendly and carefree smile I’d been working to perfect.
I resumed walking down the path toward the lot, my sandals clicking against stone.
I was thousands of miles away from the States and I hadn’t uttered a single word to anyone about what had happened, but sometimes my mind wasn’t kind to me.
My thoughts found a way to slide back to the bridge and the moment my life split cleanly in two.
I didn’t even have a patient load to occupy my mind anymore.
I shook my head, chasing those glooming, persistent thoughts back across the ocean, when I froze ten feet from my car.
Wrapped around a wooden post beside the parking lot was a thin, greenish snake, and I was certain it was watching me, ready to attack.
The sharp, panicked scream tore out of me before I could stop it.
Instinct took over. I spun, lost a sandal, and launched myself at the nearest solid structure without looking.
It turned out not to be a lamppost, but a man. A very tall, very solid, very real man.
My arms locked around his neck as my feet left the ground, and before my brain caught up with my body, I was climbing him like a tree, my arms lopped around his neck, suffocating the poor soul.
“Whoa,” he said calmly, cutting through my panic. “Easy there.”
I’d just attacked a stranger.
“I-I’m sorry,” I gasped, still gripping him. “There’s a snake. Right there. Doing… snake things.”
He looked down at me with infuriating calm, as though women routinely leapt onto him in alpine parking lots.
“I see,” he said mildly. “You know, snakes are usually more afraid of you,” he added.
“Untrue,” I muttered, scanning the ground, my feet hooked around his waist. “One bite and I’m dead. And then I crash my car and take out innocent bystanders, so really, this is a public safety issue.”
Silence followed, broken only by my panting breaths.
“Do you see it? Can you kill it? Are there lots of snakes here? Because that’s a deal breaker for me.” I rattled on like a lunatic, then tightened my grip around his neck and his waist, brushing against his hard muscles. “Well, are there?”
“You ask many questions.”
“And you have yet to answer any,” I shot back. “What if it’s under my car? Or in my car? Can snakes get into cars?”
He let out a low chuckle that shouldn’t have been comforting but somehow was.
That was when I noticed a man in a black suit flanking him, appearing out of nowhere like he’d materialized from the trees. Earpiece. The stance. The unmistakable awareness.
Of course.
“Your bodyguard? Does he kill snakes?” I asked weakly, flicking a glance to his sidekick with raven hair and even darker eyes. “He’s a little late, don’t you think?”
“Don’t worry about him,” he said, giving him a subtle look that sent him retreating a few steps. “Where’s the snake?”
I pointed, my hand trembling.
“There—” I stopped. The post was bare, and I stared dumbly, furious that the snake had made a fool out of me. “It was there. I swear.”
He glanced around, still carrying me like I weighed nothing, then started walking across the lot.
“You don’t have to—” I began.
“You seem unwilling to let go.”
Fair.
“Which car is yours?”
I pointed at the SUV as we approached. “Sorry, I should have parked closer.”
He chuckled. “If you planned on scaling me, yeah, you really should have.”
He stopped beside the vehicle and lowered me gently until my feet met the pavement. My body slid down his and suddenly I was hot and flustered.
I slipped my sandal off. No point limping with one shoe on and I certainly wasn’t going back for the one I lost.
“I guess that’s my cue,” I murmured, smoothing the material of my dress and reclaiming what dignity I had left. I was a respected doctor, for goodness’ sake. “Thank you for… not letting me die via snake-related hysteria.”
He wore an amused expression, assessing me with a dark, piercing gaze. His square jaw spoke of determination while his silver-peppered hair hinted at his mature age. The man was gorgeous, and my cheeks heated with each passing second around him.
“Your sandal.” The bodyguard interrupted the moment, placing it neatly at my feet before stepping away once more.
He was younger than my rescuer, although not by much.
He had coal-black hair and alarmingly dark eyes.
It was clear he did not like me hanging off his boss.
“We don’t need a Cinderella situation on our hands. ”
“Earth, please swallow me,” I muttered under my breath as heat crept up my neck.
I bent to retrieve it, acutely aware of both pairs of eyes tracking the movement as I hooked it on to one finger and reached into my purse with my free hand.
The men stiffened instantly, bodies going taut and hands hovering just a second too close to what I realized were their weapons.
Jesus, do Albanians walk around carrying weapons? I hadn’t seen any armed men so far on my trip.
When my hand reappeared holding nothing more than a crumpled twenty-euro note, their tension eased.
I held out the money, juggling my purse as it slid off my shoulder and the sandal threatened to slip from my finger. Everything felt off-balance—me included.
Gosh. I was an absolute mess.
“No, thank you.” The man pushed my offering away.
“Please, consider it hazard pay,” I insisted, drawing a sardonic breath from the stranger.
“Thank you, but you keep it.”
“Oh no, I insist,” I grumbled, because apparently humiliation was my personal brand now. “Buy yourself something nice for rescuing an emotionally unstable woman in the Albanian Alps.”
That earned me a faint smile before he turned away, his bodyguard falling into step behind him like a well-trained shadow. And all the while, I stood there, clutching a useless twenty with my heart still racing and my eyes firmly locked on the man’s backside.
“Whatever.” I peeled my eyes away from his ass. “Your loss, buddy.”
I climbed into the SUV, tossed my bag and sandals into the passenger seat, then locked the doors, scanning every inch of the cab like my life depended on it. Because if a snake could get into this car, it definitely would.
Once I was sure there were no reptiles, assassins, or ghosts from bridges past lurking inside, I let out a slow breath and put the car into drive, hauling ass out of there and headed for Vlore, a beach town on the other side of the country.
I hoped to never see that man or his bodyguard again.