Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Running From the Past.

Bianca's point of view 

Stealing Away in the Night

The night was suffocatingly quiet as I stood in my bedroom, staring at the half-packed suitcase on my bed. My hands trembled as I zipped it shut, the weight of my decision pressing down on me.

There was no going back now.

I glanced at my phone one last time. No messages. No missed calls. No sign that Louis had even noticed my absence.

Good.

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my suitcase and slipped out of the apartment, my heart pounding with every step.

The city lights blurred as I stepped into the waiting taxi.

"Where to?" the driver asked, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.

I swallowed hard. “The airport.”

As we drove off, I stared out the window, watching the city I had called home fade behind me.

I was leaving everything behind,my pain, my mistakes… Louis.

And for the first time in my life, I was truly alone.

---

Arrival in a New City

The moment I stepped off the plane, a wave of exhaustion crashed over me.

Welcome to Athens, Greece.

The announcement played over the airport speakers, but I barely registered it. The air was warm, thick with the scent of the sea. It felt foreign. Unfamiliar.

And that was exactly what I needed.

I pulled the hood of my jacket over my head and clutched my suitcase tighter. No one here knew me. No one would whisper about the Monte family or the scandal I had barely escaped.

For the first time in my life, I wasn’t Bianca Carlisle,the unwanted stepdaughter.

I was just… Bianca.

With a deep breath, I stepped into the streets of Athens, ready to start over.

I had barely been in the city for a day before my body betrayed me.

The hunger, the exhaustion, the stress,it all hit at once. My vision blurred, my legs wobbled, and before I could steady myself, the world tilted.

I barely had time to gasp before I collapsed onto the sidewalk.

My head spun, and the last thing I saw before everything went dark was a pair of strong arms catching me.

---

When I woke up, I wasn’t on the street anymore.

I was in a small apartment,simple, cozy, smelling faintly of coffee and fresh linen.

A man sat beside the bed, watching me with concern.

“You’re awake,” he said, relief flickering in his deep brown eyes.

I blinked, my throat dry. “Where…?”

“I found you passed out on the street.” He offered me a glass of water. “You didn’t look like you were in the best shape, so I brought you here.”

I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the blanket. “You… helped me?”

He smiled slightly. “Would you rather I had left you there?”

A soft laugh escaped me despite my exhaustion. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, I’m not in the habit of leaving pregnant women unconscious in the middle of the street, so you’re stuck with me for now.”

My breath hitched.

He knows.

I placed a protective hand over my stomach, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

“Relax,” he said gently. “I’m not here to judge or ask questions. You don’t have to tell me anything.”

I studied him, searching for any sign of deception. But all I saw was patience.

Kindness.

Something I wasn’t used to.

“…Thank you,” I whispered.

He nodded. “I’m Thomas. Thomas Greece.”

“Bianca.”

A pause. Then, “Nice to meet you, Bianca.”

And for the first time in a long time, I felt safe.

--

Days passed. Then weeks.

Thomas never pried. He never asked why I had been wandering the streets alone or why I seemed to flinch at certain memories.

Instead, he simply helped.

He found me a small apartment near his, offered me meals when he noticed I barely ate, and even drove me to my first prenatal appointment when I was too scared to go alone.

He became… my rock.

It was strange, having someone care without expecting anything in return.

One evening, as I sat at the small kitchen table in my new apartment, Thomas placed a hand on my shoulder.

“You don’t have to do this alone, you know,” he said softly.

I swallowed hard, my fingers instinctively brushing over my growing stomach.

“I don’t have a choice.”

He sighed. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have help.”

I met his gaze, something warm blooming in my chest.

Maybe… just maybe, I didn’t have to keep running forever.

That night, as I lay in bed, my hand rested on my stomach.

A life was growing inside me.

A life that Louis could never know about.

But as I closed my eyes, a cold shiver ran down my spine.

Because deep down, I knew the truth.

No matter how far I ran, the past would always find me.

And one day… so would he.

A sharp vibration startled me out of my thoughts. My phone.

Frowning, I reached for it, my breath hitching as I read the message.

"We know what you did and where you are."

My blood turned to ice. My fingers trembled as I reread the words, my pulse pounding in my ears. Who—? How—?

Panic gripped me. I shot up from the bed and rushed to the window, my heart hammering.

The street was mostly empty, but just as my eyes scanned the dimly lit road, I caught it,a sleek black car speeding off into the night.

My stomach twisted.

Someone had been watching me.

I clutched the windowsill, my breath coming in shallow gasps. How did they find me? I had been so careful. No contacts, no traces. Had I made a mistake?

I forced myself to step back from the window, swallowing the

rising fear.

No. I couldn’t panic. Not now.

Whoever they were, they wanted me scared. And if they knew where I was, that meant one thing—

I was no longer safe.