Aria stood at the airport entrance, gripping the strap of her small, worn-out bag so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The air smelled different here—clean, crisp, and unfamiliar. Italy.
She had never imagined herself in a place like this, never dreamed she'd step onto foreign soil with no one beside her. The grand glass windows reflected her petite frame, her wavy black hair slightly disheveled from the long journey. Her deep, dark eyes darted around nervously.
No one was waiting for her.
She swallowed hard, shifting on her feet as travelers rushed past her, some reuniting with loved ones, others hurrying toward taxis and buses. The airport was a sea of people, voices speaking in a language she barely understood.
A shiver ran down her spine.
She had never been in an airport before, let alone a different country. The people, the sounds, the overwhelming brightness of the place—it was all too much.
Where was she supposed to go?
Her breath hitched. Had Liana tricked her? Had she just been dumped in a foreign country to fend for herself?
Aria turned to a nearby sign, trying to read the words, but they blurred in her vision. Too much. Too fast. Too alone.
A woman in a neat uniform stood nearby, her expression patient as she assisted passengers. Aria hesitated, clutching her bag closer before forcing her shaky legs to move toward her.
"E-excuse me," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
The woman turned, her smile polite but questioning. "Yes, miss? Do you need help?"
Aria nodded quickly, trying to find the right words. She had no idea where she was supposed to go.
"Liana…" she mumbled. "She… sent me here. But no one—no one is here."
The woman frowned slightly. "Do you have an address? A phone number?"
Aria blinked. Address? She had nothing.
A sinking feeling settled in her stomach. She had been thrown here like discarded trash, abandoned in a country where she didn't belong.
The woman must have sensed her panic because she gave her a kind look. "Do you have a passport?"
Aria quickly nodded and pulled it from her bag, her hands trembling. The woman took it, flipping through the pages before glancing back at her.
"Where is your luggage?" she asked.
Aria hesitated. Luggage?
"This is… all I have," she admitted, motioning to the small bag over her shoulder.
The woman's eyebrows lifted slightly, but she didn't comment. "Alright, miss. I can help you get a taxi, but do you have any contact? Anyone waiting for you?"
Aria felt her throat close up. She had no one.
"I… don't know," she whispered.
The woman sighed, glancing at a colleague before nodding. "Okay. Let me find a way to help you."
Aria followed as the woman led her toward a waiting area, motioning for her to sit. "Stay here for a moment. I'll see what I can do."
Aria nodded numbly, gripping the strap of her bag even tighter as she sat on the cold metal bench.
Her heart pounded.
What was she supposed to do now?
She had been sent here, sold like an object, and now… she was alone. No instructions. No guidance. Nothing.
A lump formed in her throat, and she blinked back tears.
She couldn't cry. Not here. Not now.
But before she could drown in her own fears, a shadow loomed over her.
"Are you Aria?"
A deep voice. Smooth, commanding, but unfamiliar.
Aria's head snapped up, her body tensing as she met the gaze of a man standing before her.
Tall. Dressed in a sleek black suit, his presence radiated power. His eyes—sharp, piercing—watched her with an intensity that sent chills down her spine.
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
He sighed, glancing at his watch before looking back at her. "Get up. We're leaving."
Her heart pounded even harder. Who was he?
"W-who are you?" she asked hesitantly.
He tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing at his lips.
"The one who paid for you."
Aria's blood ran cold.