Chapter 17 - The Runaway Bride (3)

It was impractical to search the entire city for her, Ayra knew. But if she really did disappear without a trace then it would merely be a matter of minutes before she was caught and dragged back. 

Hence she had set up for her father two leads - Marcy and Sarah. 

The train tickets from Sarah would ensure he directed manpower that way given that the chances of her taking the train was practically fifty fifty. 

Marcy was a done deal, and perhaps he would suspect aunt Eleanor too and waste his efforts on her. 

That would give her the opportunity to strike out on her own and actually have a chance at fleeing. 

With their minds so fixated on the decoys she had set up and trying to see if they had ignored any other, she would run for the hills and have a pretty good headstart. 

It was rather clever, but Ayra did not quite come up with it in her own. Her mother had to take credit for the general idea. She had taught Ayra much. 

At the moment, Ayra sat in the dimly lit corner of a café, a cup of lukewarm tea in her hand and her gaze fixed on the people moving in and out.

The small café was rather cozy, tucked into the corner of a bustling street. It was the kind of place where patrons sipped coffee slowly, lost in books or quiet conversations. 

Ayra sat near the back, her head low, hands wrapped around the steaming cup of tea she hadn’t touched. Her eyes flicked around the room intently, studying the people within it.

The next step of her plan was... risky, to put it mildly. It relied on quick thinking, sleight of hand, and a bit of charm. The first two which she was quite good at. 

See, she couldn’t use her own cards anymore. All that would do is leave a trail - a literal beacon and breadcrumbs of clues for her father to follow. The only option left was to... Borrow... Someone else’s. Permanently. 

She didn't quite like it but she had no choice - she planned to stay ahead of her father, and to do so, she needed to be able to move freely and anonymously. 

A stolen credit card, if handled carefully, would provide just that.

After a good while, her gaze stayed on a man seated a few tables away. 

He was in his mid-thirties and was dressed in a tailored suit that spoke of wealth. His leather briefcase rested beside him, and he seemed engrossed in his laptop. 

A prime target. 

Ayra had watched him for several minutes while she pretended to scroll on her phone, observing his behavior.

He was fully absorbed in his laptop, typing occasionally and sipping from a cappuccino that was steadily cooling. 

He didn’t notice the café around him, let alone a young woman sitting several tables away.

Ayra waited, watching for a chance. He typed something on his laptop, then reached for his wallet to retrieve a card. 

He swiped it through a reader plugged into his laptop, and her pulse quickened as he entered his passcode on a small keypad.

Eyes peeled, Ayra easily caught the motion of his fingers and noted the sequence: 3, 8, 2, 5. She repeated the numbers silently in her head, committing them to memory. 

The man tucked the card back into his wallet, and put his wallet into the pocket of his jacket which hung from the back of the chair. He was unaware he had just been marked.

Ayra pulled out a brand new phone - gotten from the proceeds after she had pawned off her earrings and necklace to a shady broker - and pulled up her bank app. 

There and then, in a matter of a few minutes, she changed the passcode of her card to 3825.

Everything was set. 

Her heart pounded as she rehearsed the plan in her mind. Approach him. Make small talk. Slip away his card and replace it with one of hers. It was deceptively simple. 

She stood, smoothing her sweater and adjusting her demeanor to one of casual confidence. Grabbing her cup of tea, she approached his table with a disarming smile. 

“Excuse me,” she said, her tone friendly and carefully unintrusive. “Is this seat taken?”

The man looked up, startled for a moment it seemed, before offering a polite smile. “No, go ahead.”

“Thanks.” Ayra slid into the chair opposite him, placing her tea on the table. “I couldn’t help but notice you’re working on something important. I dearly hope I’m not interrupting.”

He chuckled lightly. “No, no, not at all. Just some last-minute adjustments to a presentation.”

They talked easily. Ayra had a natural charm when she needed it, and she leaned hard into that now, steering the conversation with care. 

She had always been a social butterfly, and had inadvertently picked up a few tricks from Lisbeth too. 

She asked about his work, laughed at his jokes, and feigned polite interest in his anecdotes. In mere minutes she found that his name was Simon and he was a rather boring man. 

As the minutes passed, she noted the details of his wallet, where he kept it in his suit jacket, and how often he touched it as she prepared to slip it, her heart pounding.

Then he excused himself to take a phone call and Ayra saw her chance and thanked her stars. Simon was a blessedly careless person it seemed.

She swiftly reached into his jacket, careful not to disturb the fabric, and retrieved the wallet. 

Slipping out his credit card, she replaced it with her own - a fully functional card tied to an account with enough money that he would not be inconvenienced anytime soon. 

Then she tucked his card into her sleeve and set his wallet back exactly as it had been.

By the time he returned, Ayra was leaning back in her chair, sipping her tea as if nothing had happened. “Everything okay?” she asked, her tone light.

He nodded. “Just a quick work call.”

They chatted a bit longer before Ayra glanced at her phone, feigning surprise. “Oh, I didn’t realize the time! I really should get going.”

Just then the phone buzzed and she saw that Sarah had sent her the train ticket details. She was not going to use it of course - the tickets were for her father. 

The man smiled warmly. “It was nice talking to you. Maybe I’ll see you here again.”

“Quite likely,” Ayra replied, standing, giving him another smile. “Good luck with your presentation.” 

She walked away calmly, resisting the urge to look back.

As soon as she was outside, her calm demeanor faltered. 

Ayra's heart raced as she power walked down the street, her fingers tightening around the card hidden in her sleeve. She simply could not believe it had worked.

Once outside, she ducked into an alley and pulled out the stolen card, her breath coming in short bursts. 

She repeated his PIN in her head - 3, 8, 2, 5 - and pocketed the card.

Now she had what she needed: a way to access funds and move without drawing attention. 

Ayra exhaled deeply, letting the tension of the moment dissipate. She had taken a risk, but it had paid off. 

And no, she was not taking a train or anything like that. Any form of public transportation was a lead for her father and Lucian to follow. No, she was going to rent a car.