Amara’s POV

Asher’s announcement yesterday had left me dangling on the edge of despair. I didn’t sleep a minute last night. The thought of Adrian’s return clawed at me with every passing hour. My mind replayed every moment—the arguments, the control, the suffocating silence. I thought I had it all planned out: Adrian’s death, my freedom, and a new life with Caleb. But fate, in its cruel humor, had decided otherwise—granting Adrian another chance to live while snatching away mine.

I couldn’t stay trapped here. Not anymore. The walls of this mansion were closing in, the air itself heavy with the Blackwells’ shadow. I had to get out—far away from Adrian, from his family, from my father’s betrayal. The thought pulsed through my veins like fire. I wouldn’t surrender my freedom so easily.

I was pacing my room, heart racing, mind spinning, when I heard Mrs. Blackwell’s voice echo through the living room—cheerful, commanding, and utterly oblivious to my dread.

“Amara, dear!” she called, her tone bright with excitement. “I have wonderful news!”

Forcing a polite smile, I descended the stairs. Mrs. Blackwell stood in the foyer, glowing with pride.

“Adrian has regained consciousness,” she announced. “He called me personally. He’ll be arriving home tomorrow evening.”

My stomach turned to ice. Tomorrow. So soon. The thin thread of hope I’d been clinging to snapped in an instant. “It’s as if happiness is a luxury I’m not allowed to have,” I muttered under my breath, the words tasting bitter.

Mrs. Blackwell, blissfully unaware of the storm inside me, began barking orders to the staff. “Madam Scarlett, we must prepare a grand celebration for Adrian’s return. I want the best dishes, fresh flowers, and invitations sent to all our close friends and associates.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Madam Scarlett replied, already scribbling notes.

Within minutes, the house erupted into chaos—maids polishing, florists arriving, chefs bustling in the kitchen. The air hummed with excitement. But as I watched the whirlwind of preparations, something inside me shifted. Among all this noise and celebration, no one would notice a single missing person. This could be my chance.

My pulse quickened. The party would be crowded, loud, chaotic—perfect. While the Blackwells toasted their beloved Adrian, I could slip away unnoticed, disappearing into the night. The thought filled me with a fragile, desperate hope.

I hurried back to my room, pacing again as I tried to piece together the details. I couldn’t do this alone. My family wouldn’t help—they’d stop me out of fear of Adrian’s wrath. I needed someone I could trust completely. Someone who still believed in me.

And then it hit me. Caleb.

I grabbed my phone, my hands trembling as I dialed his number. The first call went unanswered, and panic gripped my chest. I tried again.

“Caleb,” I said the moment he answered, my voice urgent. “I need your help.”

“Amara, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” His tone sharpened, filled with worry.

“Adrian’s coming back tomorrow,” I rushed out. “His mother’s throwing a party for him. I need to escape during the celebration—when everyone’s distracted.”

“Wait—what? I thought he was in London for business,” Caleb said, confusion and anger twisting his voice.

“He wasn’t,” I replied quickly. “He went for surgery. He’s recovered now. He’s completely cured.”

There was a pause, then a hiss of disbelief. “That cunning bastard.”

“This party is my only chance to get out of here,” I said, desperation spilling into my tone. “If I stay, I’ll be trapped forever. Please, Caleb—I need you.”

“All right,” he said firmly, his voice steadying me. “I’ll help you. What time is the party?”

“Six in the evening.”

“Good. I’ll be outside the mansion as soon as it starts. Slip out when you can, and I’ll get you away from there.” He paused. “Does Isla know?”

“No,” I whispered. “I can’t risk it. I just need somewhere far from Berlin—somewhere no one will find me.”

“I’ll handle it,” Caleb promised. “I have a relative in a small town near Hamburg. It’s quiet, safe, and far enough to disappear. Pack only the essentials. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Relief flooded me. “Thank you, Caleb. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I’ll do anything for you, Amara,” he said softly. “Be ready tomorrow night. I’ll text you once I’m outside. I’ll get you out of there.”

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you too,” came his quiet reply before the line went dead.

That night, I packed in silence, folding only what I needed—clothes, documents, a few personal things. Every sound, every creak of the house made my heart race. I couldn’t afford a single mistake. Tomorrow night, I will finally reclaim my life.

As I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind buzzed with fear and anticipation. I placed my hand gently on my belly. What about the baby? A cruel thought whispered in my head: The Blackwells only cared because Adrian was dying. Now that he’s alive, they’ll forget.

It didn’t matter. Not tonight. All that mattered was freedom.

Tomorrow night, when the music played and the lights dazzled, I would walk out of this mansion for good. Tomorrow night, my new life would begin.