The cold steel of the gun barrel pointed directly at Elena's chest, freezing her in place. The man's twisted grin sent a shiver down her spine, and her legs threatened to give out beneath her. She wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything—but she couldn't. She was trapped.
"Let her go," Damien said, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. His weapon was steady in his hand, his finger resting on the trigger, but his expression was unreadable.
The man holding the gun sneered. "You're in no position to give orders, Blackwell. Drop your weapon, or the girl dies."
Damien's eyes flicked to Marcus, who stood frozen with the barrel of a gun pressed to his temple. Marcus's face was pale, but his expression was stoic, as if he'd accepted the precariousness of the situation.
"You're making a mistake," Damien said evenly, his tone calm despite the deadly circumstances. "You don't know who you're dealing with."
"Oh, I know exactly who I'm dealing with," the man retorted. "The great Damien Blackwell, untouchable billionaire. But I've got your Achilles' heel now, don't I?"
His eyes shifted to Elena again, and Damien's grip on his gun tightened imperceptibly.
"You don't want to do this," Damien said, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "If you harm her, you won't make it out of here alive."
The man laughed, the sound echoing through the narrow passage. "Big talk from someone who's cornered. But fine. If you won't play nice..." He pressed the gun harder against Elena's chest, and her breath hitched.
"Stop!" Damien barked, lowering his weapon slightly. "Don't hurt her. I'll do whatever you want."
Elena's heart pounded as Damien's words sank in. He was giving in—for her.
"Drop the gun," the man ordered.
Damien hesitated, his jaw clenching as he weighed his options. Slowly, he lowered his weapon to the ground, the clink of metal against concrete echoing ominously.
"Good boy," the man said mockingly. "Now kick it over."
Damien did as he was told, his movements precise and controlled. The man's smile widened, and for a brief moment, Elena thought he'd won.
But then, faster than she could comprehend, Damien moved. He lunged forward, his hand closing around the man's wrist in a vice-like grip. The gun fired, the deafening sound reverberating through the passage, but the bullet ricocheted harmlessly off the wall.
Elena screamed as Damien twisted the man's arm, forcing him to release the gun. Marcus reacted instantly, elbowing his captor and wrestling the weapon from his grasp. Chaos erupted as Damien and Marcus subdued their attackers with brutal efficiency.
When the dust settled, both men lay unconscious on the floor. Damien's breathing was heavy, his fists clenched as he stood over the prone bodies. He turned to Marcus, who nodded grimly.
"Secure them," Damien ordered, his voice cold and commanding. "I want answers."
Marcus knelt to restrain the unconscious men, and Damien turned to Elena. She was pressed against the wall, her eyes wide and glassy with shock.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, his tone softer now.
She shook her head numbly, but her trembling hands betrayed her. Damien took a step closer, his imposing presence grounding her in the midst of her panic.
"Elena," he said firmly, his voice drawing her attention. "Look at me."
Her eyes locked onto his, and she saw something unexpected in his gaze—concern. Not the cold calculation she'd grown accustomed to, but genuine worry.
"You're safe now," he said, his tone steady. "I won't let anyone hurt you."
Tears welled in her eyes, and she nodded, though her fear hadn't entirely subsided. "I... I thought..."
"You don't have to think anymore," Damien interrupted. "I've got you."
Before she could respond, Marcus stood, wiping blood from his knuckles. "They're tied up. What do you want me to do with them?"
"Get them somewhere secure," Damien said. "I'll deal with them later."
Marcus nodded and hauled one of the unconscious men over his shoulder. As he disappeared down the corridor, Damien turned back to Elena.
"We're leaving," he said simply.
"Where?" she asked, her voice still shaky.
"Somewhere safer," Damien replied. "These men aren't working alone. There's more going on here than I thought."
Elena hesitated, her legs unsteady. "I... I don't know if I can do this."
"You can," Damien said firmly, his hand brushing her arm in a rare moment of gentleness. "And you will. Because if you don't, they'll win. And I don't lose."
His words were a strange mix of comfort and command, but somehow, they worked. Elena nodded, swallowing her fear as she followed him down the corridor. She didn't know where they were going or what awaited them, but one thing was certain—her life would never be the same.