Elara's POV

I grabbed the nearest weapon, a heavy crystal vase from the nightstand, and pressed myself against the wall beside the door. My heart hammered so violently I was certain whoever stood outside could hear it.

The door swung open slowly. A figure stepped inside, backlit by the hallway.

"Miss Whitmore, it's Rosa." The maid raised her hands, showing they were empty. "Please, don't scream."

I lowered the vase slightly but didn't set it down. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving your life, I hope." She glanced nervously toward the hallway.

 "Victoria knows about your call to Detective Chen. She's on her way here with men who won't hesitate to eliminate you."

My blood turned to ice. "How do you."

"I'm the one who's been sending you the messages." Rosa stepped closer, urgency etched in every line of her face. "I've worked for this family for three years. I've seen things. Heard things.

 Victoria orchestrated everything, your father's debt, bringing you here, all of it."

"Why didn't you go to the police?"

"Because she has half the police on her payroll, and the other half are too scared to touch her." Rosa pressed a phone into my hands, not mine, a burner. 

"Detective Chen is one of the few honest ones left. Victoria's already sent people to silence her."

"Oh God." Nausea rolled through me. "Damian, does he know?"

"He's in Victoria's office right now, discovering the truth. 

But by the time he processes what he's found, it might be too late for you." Rosa grabbed my arm. 

"There's a service elevator that leads to the parking garage. Take it. Run. Don't look back."

"I can't just leave him.”

"He's a billionaire with an army of security. You're a twenty-three-year-old woman with no resources and a target on your back."

 Rosa's eyes filled with tears. "Please. Your father died trying to protect you from her. Don't let his sacrifice be for nothing."

The words hit like a physical blow. "What?"

"James Whitmore was Victoria's driver the night she murdered Richard Voss. He witnessed everything.

 She's been hunting him for three years, and when she finally found him two weeks ago," Rosa's voice broke. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

My father was dead. The room tilted, and Rosa caught me before I fell.

"There's no time to grieve," she said gently but firmly. "You grieve when you're safe. Right now, you run."

She pulled me toward the door, but we froze at the sound of the elevator dinging in the hallway. Multiple footsteps. Heavy. Military precision.

"Too late," Rosa whispered. "Hide. Under the bed. Don't make a sound."

"Rosa."

She shoved me toward the bed. "Go!"

I crawled underneath just as the bedroom door burst open. 

Through the gap between the bed frame and the floor, I saw boots. Four sets. And then Victoria's designer heels, blood red against the white marble.

"Where is she?" Victoria's voice was cold, controlled.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mrs. Voss." Rosa's voice trembled but held steady.

"Don't play games with me, girl. I know she was here five minutes ago. The bedroom is still warm." A pause. "Search everywhere."

The men tore through the room, closet doors slamming, drawers yanked open. One set of boots moved toward the bed, and I pressed my hand over my mouth to silence my breathing.

"Mrs. Voss." A man's voice, thick with a Russian accent. "The window. It's unlocked."

Victoria's heels clicked closer. "She went out the window? Forty stories up?"

"Fire escape access on this side of the building. She could have climbed down."

"Then go after her, you idiots!" Victoria's composure cracked. "Find her before Damian realizes what's happening. I want her dead within the hour."

The boots thundered out of the room. Victoria remained, and I heard her making a phone call.

"It's me. Yes, she's running. No, Damian doesn't know yet, he's still in the office going through the files." 

A pause. "Of course I locked him in. He won't get out until I'm ready to let him out." Another pause, and her voice turned vicious.

 "The girl knows too much. Once she's eliminated, we move on to Damian. Make it look like a murder-suicide, he killed her in a jealous rage, then took his own life. Perfect tragedy."

My stomach churned with horror. She was planning to kill us both.

"And Rosa?" Victoria's heels clicked toward where the maid stood. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice you've been playing spy?"

"Mrs. Voss, I."

The sound of a gunshot exploded through the room, followed by Rosa's body hitting the floor with a sickening thud.

I bit down on my fist to keep from screaming, tears streaming down my face.

Victoria's heels stepped over Rosa's body, moving toward the door. "Clean this up," she told someone in the hallway. "And find that girl. I don't care if you have to tear this city apart."

The door closed. Silence fell, broken only by my ragged breathing.

I waited five agonizing minutes before crawling out from under the bed. Rosa lay in a pool of blood, her eyes staring at nothing.

 I closed them with shaking hands, whispering apologies I knew she couldn't hear.

The burner phone in my pocket buzzed. A text from an unknown number: Parking garage. Level B3. Black sedan. Keys under driver's seat. Go. Now.

M. Marcus?

I didn't have time to question it. I grabbed a robe to cover my underwear, pocketed the phone, and ran for the service elevator Rosa had mentioned.

The elevator descended with painful slowness. When the doors opened on B3, the parking level was dark and silent. I found the black sedan exactly where the text said, keys waiting.

My hands shook as I started the engine. I'd never felt so alone, so terrified. 

My father was dead. Rosa was dead. And Damian was trapped, walking into Victoria's trap just like I had.

I should run. Disappear. Save myself like Rosa had begged me to.

But as I sat there, engine idling, I realized something. I couldn't leave him. Despite everything, the cruelty, the possession, the impossible situation, I couldn't let Victoria destroy him.

I grabbed the burner phone and dialed the only number I had. Detective Chen answered immediately.

"Elara? Thank God, I thought."

"Victoria's planning to kill Damian tonight. Make it look like murder-suicide.

 He's locked in her office at the penthouse." The words tumbled out. "Please. You have to save him."

"Where are you?"

"Parking garage. I'm about to run." I took a shaky breath. "But I need you to promise me something. When this is over, when Victoria's caught, tell Damian I'm sorry. Tell him it wasn't his fault. Tell him." My voice broke. "Just tell him I didn't want to go."

"Elara, wait."

I hung up and threw the phone out the window. Then I drove, tears blurring my vision, my heart shattering with every mile I put between myself and the man I'd impossibly, irrevocably fallen for.

I didn't know it yet, but life was growing inside me. Two lives. His children.

And I wouldn't see Damian Voss again for five long years.