Chapter 14

Madrid, Spain.

Just after dawn, the private jet sliced through the soft Spanish sky, its engines humming low and steady. As the aircraft touched down on the secluded airstrip just outside the city, the world outside was still bathed in the golden hush of early morning. It looked so pleasing to the eye and could calm one's heart. The weather and time zone was completely changed from New York.

Inside the jet, Innara sat by the window, one hand resting gently on her swollen belly, the other clutching the thin shawl Agustín had placed over her shoulders during the flight. Her face was pale, her eyes quietly scanning the unfamiliar land, but there was a flicker of calm beneath the exhaustion. She was so nervous not knowing what her future holds for her.

Agustín, seated across from her, didn’t speak much — not because he had nothing to say, but because he knew she needed silence more than words. He studied her out of the corner of his eye — the way her fingers trembled slightly, the bruises still faintly visible near her wrist, and the guarded look she wore like armor. She looked so broken, so fragile still the mother inside her wasn't letting her break down.

When they exited the plane, the breeze that greeted them was warm, fragrant with salt and early blooms. A black car waited discreetly nearby. He didn't extend his hand toward her knowing she wasn't comfortable enough but he walked right behind her in case she needed any help. He followed her to the car and helped her settle down gently inside it.

Innara was grateful for his thoughtful gesture and when he also settled beside her on the back seat, she looked out of the window nervously. Everything was going so slow in her life as if it was ready to begin a fairytale but since her childhood she had faced demons so she doesn't know what a fairytale was. The driver took a different route instead of turning toward his family's mansion nestled deep in the hills, because Agustín instructed the driver to take them elsewhere.

An hour later…

They arrived at a tall, discreet building near the quiet edge of the city — his spare apartment, rarely used, hidden from the press and even most of his associates. The place was modern, sunlit, and quiet — the kind of space that didn’t ask questions or demand explanations and especially the men of his loving person, Zavier won't be able to find this place any soon.

He made sure to change routes so many times as he knew he was being followed and he also knew why. He was finding a new way to let him down by using the girl beside him as bait who has nothing to do with anything so he made sure that his man couldn't chase them and he misled them with the help of his driver while his men went the other way.

Agustín helped her to get out of the car and led her inside gently.

The apartment had an open layout, wide windows that let in golden light, a living room with soft grey couches and dark oak flooring, and a kitchen already stocked — he had made sure of it. A guest room down the hall had been freshly prepared with a soft mattress, fresh sheets, and neutral décor. A small potted plant sat on the windowsill.

"Ms. Innara…" he said, softly breaking the silence as he guided her toward the bedroom.

"This is yours. For as long as you need. No one knows you’re here. No one will know." He assured her while she looked a little hesitant.

She looked around, cautiously. Her hands touched the edges of the dresser, the curtains, as if testing whether it was real. She turned to him then — not speaking, but her eyes said everything. There was gratitude buried under fear, and confusion tangled with relief. And exhaustion — bone-deep, soul-heavy exhaustion.

"I’ll get you some food," he said gently. "And the doctor will visit later today. Just rest now. You’re safe."

Innara lowered herself onto the bed slowly, her hand on her baby bump again. The mattress was soft, the sheets cool. For the first time in years, she didn’t feel watched. Hunted. Bought.

Agustín lingered at the door, watching her with quiet concern. He didn’t try to touch her, didn’t even step closer. But before he left, he added, "If you need anything… I’m just down the hall."

Then, leaving the door slightly open, he stepped out — letting her have her silence.

Outside the room, Agustín exhaled deeply and leaned against the wall.

He had saved her life. But the hard part was just beginning — helping her learn to live again.

The day faded into a soft golden dusk. Through the apartment windows, the Madrid skyline glowed in amber hues as the city began to wind down. The distant sound of waves echoed faintly from the coast — a stark contrast to the life Innara had just escaped.

She hadn’t spoken much since arriving. Most of the afternoon had passed in quiet — she had slept on and off, her body needing rest far more than she would admit.

But when she awoke again, the room was darker and the scent of something warm drifted from the kitchen. Her stomach grumbled — a quiet reminder that she hadn’t eaten properly in days.

She rose slowly, wrapping the shawl around her shoulders again, and padded quietly out of the room.

In the soft-lit kitchen, Agustín stood barefoot, sleeves rolled up, plating some grilled vegetables, rice, and warm bread. He looked up the moment he heard her — his expression calm, unreadable, but his eyes softened when they met hers.

"You’re awake," he said quietly, placing the plates on the counter. "I didn’t want to wake you. I figured you’d be hungry eventually."

Innara nodded once, then looked down at the food. Her throat tightened, not just from hunger — but from the unfamiliar feeling of… care. No one had cooked for her in years. Not without an ulterior motive.

"You didn’t have to," she whispered.

"I know," Agustín replied. "But I wanted to."

She sat at the small dining table hesitantly. He poured her water and placed everything within reach, then took a seat across from her, far enough to give her space.

For a few minutes, they ate in silence — save for the clinking of cutlery and the soft hum of city life outside.

Then he spoke — not pressing, not prying, just softly.

"Are you… comfortable here? I can get you anything else you need. If the bed’s too firm, or if you want a different room—"

"It’s the best sleep I’ve had in years," she said before she could stop herself.

He looked at her with a quiet surprise.

Her eyes widened slightly at her own honesty. She blinked, lowered her gaze, then added, "T-Thank you… for everything. You didn’t have to do this either."

"I know," he said again. "But I meant what I said — you’re safe now. And you don’t owe me anything, Innara. Not your past. Not your story. Not even your trust. I’ll wait for all of that — or none of it. Your choice."

There was a pause. Her hands curled around the edge of the table.

"I’ve never been given a choice before," she murmured, almost to herself.

Agustín didn’t reply. He just watched her — not like a man who wanted anything from her, but like someone who understood pain when he saw it.

After they finished, he quietly cleared the table while she lingered in her seat.

"Will I… be meeting your family?" she asked cautiously, catching him mid-step. She wasn't ready yet but what if someday he asks her too? Of course one day he would because she's living under his guidance, his roof and his care. He has every right to ask her that.

He looked over his shoulder. "Eventually, yes. But not yet. I brought you here for a reason. I didn’t want you overwhelmed — or exposed. No one but my most trusted people know you’re here. Until you’re ready, this place is yours."

She nodded, lips parted slightly as if more questions waited on her tongue… but she didn’t ask them yet.

Just before returning to her room, she stopped and turned.

"A-Agustín," for the first time she took his name which sounded so foreign to her tongue.

He looked up from the sink.

"…Thank you for not asking about the baby." She said really appreciating his patience with her oblivious self.

His eyes lingered on hers for a moment — and then he nodded once.

"You don’t have to explain anything to me, Innara. I’m not here to rewrite your past. I just hope… to be part of a future that’s better than it." He said lowly looking at the bump of her belly.

And with that, she returned to her room — the door gently closing behind her — and for the first time in a very long time, she cried not out of fear… but something like release. The door clicked shut behind her with a soft sound. She stood there for a moment, her back against the wooden frame, staring into the calm, warmly lit room. Everything was still — too still.

The silence wasn’t suffocating like it used to be in her locked rooms. Here, it was gentle. Kind. But it scared her in its own way. For the first time, she wasn’t surrounded by fear or pain… and yet, she didn’t know what to do with the absence of it.

She moved slowly to the edge of the bed and sat down. Her fingers grazed the blanket — soft, clean, untouched. Just like the towels folded neatly near the nightstand, the water jug refilled, and the small bottle of lotion that hadn’t even been opened yet.

Everything here was normal. Safe. Thoughtful. It was what she had dreamed of — in the corners of her mind when sleep used to barely come — and now that she had it, she couldn’t believe it was real.

Her hands trembled before she could stop them.

One breath, then another. But the pain didn’t leave.

And then it broke.

Her hand went to her mouth, trying to muffle the sob that surged from her chest like a wave — one that had been held back for years. She bent forward, arms wrapping around her belly instinctively, as the weight of it all — the trauma, the nights she had screamed into pillows, the times she was nothing more than a body passed around, the loss of her own voice — crashed into her like a storm.

Tears fell hot and heavy.

She tried to stop. Tried to be quiet. But her body shook, her breaths jagged and raw. Her knees curled up. Her fingers dug into the blanket. And her face buried into the side of the bed as the sobs came harder.

This time, she wasn’t crying because someone had hurt her.

She was crying because…

No one did.

Not now. Not today.

And the kindness — the gentleness — of it all made her feel seen in a way that hurt more than pain ever had.

For the first time in years… she wasn’t invisible. She wasn’t property. She was just… Innara. And someone had cared enough to let her be that.

Suddenly there was a knock of the door startling her and she immediately tried to wipe her face harshly with the back of her hands but the person on the other side didn't try to enter inside and patiently waited for her to answer.

"Y-Yes?" She asked in her slightly hoarse voice not wanting to sound emotional.

"I just wanted to ask if you'll be comfortable alone because I have to visit my parents. You don't have to worry I've hired my best men out of the apartment and you are safe here." Agustín's voice came from the other side of the door and it was so calm and composed that it made her feel less anxious.

"I'll be f-fine. Thank you." Innara replied in her lower tone because of course she would feel scared alone but she didn't want to bother him much.

He was already doing a lot for her and she didn't want to stop him from something just because she couldn't control her fear. Agustín also sensed her hoarse voice and he knew she was emotional and was trying to adjust to this new place and circumstances around her so he decided to give her personal space to her besides he knew his parents were just dying to know about what happened there and all the details necessary for them to know.

He sighed and walked away from there leaving her alone on her own but while walking out he didn't forget his men to gesture to look after her and not let anyone even near the apartment. He got down the building and settled down in a black car taking a long breath because he knew he had to take a lot of different routes to again distract Zavier's man and he was already exhausted due to jet lag.

He started driving towards the mansion and when he reached the main road he already felt some cars following him from a distance so he casually started driving as if he was out for a drive and now returning back to his mansion and he already knew that those men knew about Innara by now because Zavier's power is not any less than theirs and the clash between them was a never ending saga.