he room hummed with quiet tension as Damien and Marcus laid out their strategy. Maps, documents, and surveillance feeds littered the table, each piece of information a key to unraveling the web of threats surrounding them. Elena sat nearby, her fingers nervously tracing the edge of her engagement ring.
Every glance at Damien sent a jolt through her—a reminder of the weight behind his proposal and the uncertain future ahead of them. Despite her fear, she found comfort in his commanding presence. He seemed so certain, so unshakable, even as the world around them spiraled into chaos.
"Elena," Damien said, drawing her from her thoughts. His tone was softer now, the edge he used with his team giving way to something more personal. "I need you to focus. This involves you too."
She nodded, forcing herself to meet his intense gaze. "I'm listening."
"The group we're dealing with isn't just after me," he explained. "They thrive on exploiting vulnerabilities. They think you're my weakness, and they're wrong."
Her heart skipped a beat at his words. "Then what am I?"
Damien leaned closer, his voice lowering. "You're my strength, Elena. And they'll regret underestimating you."
The conviction in his voice left her momentarily speechless. She wanted to believe him, to trust that she could be more than just a pawn in this dangerous game. But doubt lingered at the edges of her mind.
"What's the plan?" she asked, her voice steady despite the knot in her stomach.
"We're going to flush them out," Damien said, his tone all business again. "We'll set a trap, make them think they have the upper hand. And when they show their faces, we'll end this."
Elena's chest tightened. "What does that mean for me?"
"It means you'll need to play your part," Damien said. "We'll make it seem like you're vulnerable, like you're scared and alone."
"Isn't that exactly what I am?" she countered, her frustration bubbling to the surface.
"No," Damien said firmly, his eyes locking onto hers. "You're stronger than you think. And you won't be alone. Not for a second."
The intensity of his words sent a shiver down her spine. She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Okay. What do you need me to do?"
"Stick to the script," Damien said. "Act like you're breaking under the pressure. Let them believe they've already won."
Elena's stomach churned at the thought, but she nodded. "I can do that."
The trap was set in a high-rise hotel in the heart of the city. It was the kind of place where deals were made in dimly lit corners and secrets changed hands behind closed doors. Elena stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse suite, her nerves fraying as she rehearsed her role.
"You're sure about this?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at Damien.
He was adjusting a hidden earpiece, his expression unreadable. "It's the only way to draw them out."
"And what happens when they show up?" she pressed, her voice trembling.
"We'll be ready," Damien said, stepping closer. His hands settled on her shoulders, grounding her. "Trust me."
She searched his eyes, looking for cracks in his facade, but found none. "I do," she whispered.
"Good." He leaned in, pressing a brief but tender kiss to her forehead. "Stay in character, no matter what happens."
Elena nodded, her heart pounding as he moved to the adjoining room, leaving her alone. The plan was simple on the surface—act as bait, lure the enemy into revealing themselves, and let Damien's team take care of the rest. But the weight of her role felt anything but simple.
Minutes passed like hours as she stood by the window, her nerves stretched thin. Then, a knock at the door shattered the silence. Her breath hitched as she turned, forcing herself to stay calm.
"It's time," Damien's voice said through the earpiece.
Elena moved to the door, her trembling hands betraying her carefully constructed facade. She opened it to reveal a man she didn't recognize—tall, well-dressed, with a predatory smile that made her skin crawl.
"Miss Cruz," the man said smoothly. "I hope I'm not intruding."
She forced herself to nod, stepping aside to let him in. "Who are you?"
"Just a friend," he said, his tone dripping with false charm. "I thought we might have a little chat."
Elena's heart raced as she played her part, letting fear creep into her expression. "I don't know anything. Please, just leave me alone."
The man chuckled, his eyes narrowing. "Oh, but you do know something, don't you? Otherwise, why would Damien Blackwell be so interested in protecting you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice shaking.
He stepped closer, his smile widening. "You're very convincing, Miss Cruz. But I think we both know the truth."
Her breath hitched as he reached into his jacket, pulling out a small device. He pressed a button, and static filled her earpiece, cutting off Damien's voice.
"Now," the man said, his tone cold. "Let's talk about what you're really hiding."
Elena's blood ran cold as the man leaned closer, his smile turning cruel. "Shall we?"