The tension in the room was suffocating. Elena's pulse thundered in her ears as Damien crossed the threshold, his broad shoulders filling the doorway like a shield against the danger lurking just beyond.
"They're here?" she echoed, her voice barely audible.
Damien shot her a look that silenced any further questions. His gaze was sharp, calculating, and unyielding. "Stay close to me. Don't say a word. Don't make a sound."
Elena swallowed hard, her legs trembling as she forced herself to stand. She wasn't sure what terrified her more—the unseen threat Damien spoke of or the cold, commanding tone in his voice that promised he wasn't exaggerating.
He turned toward Marcus, who had appeared behind him, his face etched with urgency. "Status?"
"Two men spotted in the parking garage," Marcus said. "They haven't breached the building yet, but they're looking for a way in. Security's on them."
Damien's jaw tightened. "We don't have time for this."
Elena's breath hitched as he grabbed her arm, his grip firm but not painful, and began leading her toward a hidden door at the back of the office. She stumbled to keep up, her heels clicking loudly against the polished floor until Damien shot her a glare.
"Take them off," he ordered curtly.
Without hesitation, she kicked off the offending shoes, clutching them in one hand as she followed him through the concealed passage. The door closed silently behind them, and they were plunged into a dimly lit corridor that seemed to stretch endlessly.
"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"Somewhere they can't follow," Damien replied, his tone clipped. "For now."
The corridor opened into a private elevator, and Damien pressed a button that Elena swore wasn't labeled. The doors slid shut, and the elevator began to descend.
Elena's stomach twisted as she tried to process everything happening around her. Men in the parking garage. A secret elevator. And Damien Blackwell, the enigmatic billionaire, treating her like a pawn in a game she didn't understand.
She turned to him, her fear giving way to frustration. "You owe me an explanation."
Damien's eyes flicked to hers, the steel in his gaze softening just enough to show a flicker of... concern? Or was she imagining it?
"You want the truth?" he asked, his voice low and deliberate. "Fine. But you're not going to like it."
"Try me," she said, crossing her arms despite the tremor in her hands.
Damien sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "The deal you overheard at the gala involved more than just money. It involved people. Dangerous people. People who don't take kindly to loose ends."
"People like you?" she shot back.
His jaw ticked. "No, people worse than me. People who think anyone who might jeopardize their operation is expendable. And right now, that includes you."
The words hit her like a physical blow, and she staggered back against the elevator wall. "Expendable?" she whispered.
"Yes," Damien said bluntly. "Which is why I'm doing everything in my power to keep you alive."
She shook her head, tears stinging her eyes. "I didn't ask for this."
"No one ever does," Damien said, his voice softening. "But you're in it now, Elena. And the only way out is through."
The elevator came to a halt, and the doors slid open to reveal a sleek underground safehouse. The space was a stark contrast to the opulence of Damien's office—practical and fortified, with reinforced walls and state-of-the-art security systems.
Elena stepped out cautiously, her bare feet cold against the smooth floor. "What is this place?"
"A safehouse," Damien said, motioning for her to follow. "One of many."
The weight of his words settled heavily on her shoulders. This wasn't just a temporary measure. Whatever she'd stumbled into, it was big enough to require an entire network of hideouts.
As Damien led her to a small sitting area, the lights dimmed slightly, and a screen on the wall flickered to life. Marcus appeared, his expression grim.
"They've been neutralized," Marcus said. "But they weren't working alone."
Damien cursed under his breath. "How many?"
"At least three more," Marcus replied. "And they know about her."
Elena's chest tightened. "They know about me?" she asked, her voice rising with panic.
"Yes," Damien said, turning to face her. "Which means there's no going back to your old life. Not until this is over."
Her legs gave out, and she sank onto the nearest chair. "You're saying I'm a prisoner now?"
"I'm saying," Damien replied, his voice firm, "that you're under my protection. And that means you'll follow my rules."
Elena stared at him, her mind spinning. "And if I don't?"
Damien's expression darkened, his grey eyes like a storm on the horizon. "You won't live long enough to regret it."
The screen flickered again, and Marcus's voice cut through the silence. "We've intercepted their next move."
"What is it?" Damien demanded.
"They're targeting her family," Marcus said.
Elena's heart stopped. "My family?" she gasped.
Damien's face hardened, and he turned to her with a look that sent shivers down her spine. "This just became personal."