For the fourth damned time, you packed up your life, clinging desperately to the fragile hope that this would be the final escape, hoping that fuck wouldn't find you again.

But as you stepped out the airport, the grim reality set in. Mateo, that bastard, stood a mere four meters away, leaning on a flickering streetlight, his arms folded in anticipation.

This is the third time.

A cruel snicker escaped his lips as he stepped forwards.

"Enough is enough, no more cat and mouse."

"Pay."