Across the street, Ivan stepped inside, the balcony lights shutting off behind him.
Lena stood slowly, tucking the notebook back into her backpack.
Lena
She whispered to the night.
“I know your patterns now, Ivan. Your steps. Your shadows.”
She smiled.
“And someday soon, you’ll know mine.”
The morning heat clung to the island air like a second skin, but Lena didn’t mind. She wore a loose white sundress, blending in like any tourist on vacation. Oversized sunglasses shielded her gaze, though her eyes weren’t interested in the beach or the market crowd.
Her focus was locked on the man standing across the street—one of Ivan’s men.
He was tall, square-jawed, with a snake tattoo crawling up his wrist. She’d seen him a few times now. He was always near Ivan, always quiet. Which meant he knew things.
Lena
Lena spoke softly to herself as she pretended to scroll through her phone.
“There you are, serpent boy… Let’s see where your fangs lead today.”
He adjusted the strap on his shoulder bag, glanced both ways, and began walking toward the west side of the island—away from the crowds.
Lena stood casually and followed.
She didn’t walk directly behind him. That would be stupid. Instead, she took opposite sides of the street, let cars pass between them, used shop mirrors and glass windows to keep track of him. Every few blocks, she’d pause to fake tying her shoe or duck into a store just long enough to stay unnoticed.
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