The tension inside the SUV was stifling as Damien, Elena, and Marcus sped away from the compromised hotel. The city lights blurred outside the windows, but Elena barely noticed. Her mind replayed the harrowing moments in the hallway—the masked men, the man's sinister words, and Damien's gunfire. It felt like a nightmare she couldn't wake up from.
"They knew everything," Elena said, breaking the silence. Her voice was a mix of anger and fear. "They were too prepared. Someone told them."
Marcus glanced at Damien in the rearview mirror, his expression grim. "She's right, boss. There's no way they got that close without inside information."
Damien sat stiffly, his hand resting protectively on Elena's thigh. His sharp grey eyes were fixed out the window, but the muscle ticking in his jaw betrayed his inner turmoil. "We'll figure it out," he said, his voice tight. "Right now, the priority is keeping her safe."
"Safe?" Elena's voice rose, her frustration boiling over. "You keep saying that, Damien, but nowhere is safe! They keep finding us, and now they think I'm carrying your child!"
Her words hung in the air like a grenade. Damien turned to her, his eyes softening. "Elena—"
"Don't," she interrupted, her voice trembling. "Don't tell me it'll be fine. This is my life we're talking about, Damien. My mother's life. And yours. We can't keep running forever."
She felt his hand tighten slightly on her leg, anchoring her. "You're right," he admitted. "We can't. Which is why we need to end this."
"And how do we do that?" she asked, her tears threatening to spill. "You saw what they're capable of. How do we stop them?"
Damien's gaze darkened, his expression hardening. "By finding out who betrayed us."
The safehouse Damien led them to this time was different—smaller, quieter, tucked away in the countryside. The air smelled of pine and damp earth, a stark contrast to the chaos of the city. Marcus checked the perimeter while Damien escorted Elena inside.
The interior was sparse but cozy, with a single fireplace crackling in the corner. Elena sat on the worn leather couch, her hands trembling as she processed the night's events. Damien knelt in front of her, his strong hands covering hers.
"You're scared," he said softly.
"Of course I'm scared," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don't know who to trust anymore. And now... now they think I'm pregnant. Damien, I don't even know if it's true."
His jaw tightened, but his touch remained gentle. "We'll figure that out. Together."
"How?" she asked, her tears finally spilling over. "How do we figure any of this out when we're constantly running for our lives?"
Damien reached up, brushing her tears away with his thumb. "By taking control. No more running, Elena. This ends now."
She searched his eyes, looking for cracks in his armor, but found only steely determination. For a moment, she allowed herself to lean into him, finding solace in his strength.
Then the door opened, and Marcus stepped inside, his face grim. "We've got a problem."
Damien stood, his entire demeanor shifting. "What is it?"
Marcus hesitated, glancing at Elena before speaking. "We intercepted a transmission. Someone on our team leaked the safehouse location. They've been feeding intel to the other side."
Elena's stomach dropped. "Someone on your team? But... why?"
"Money. Power. Revenge," Damien said coldly. "It doesn't matter why. What matters is finding them."
"How do we do that?" Marcus asked. "If it's one of our own, they'll be covering their tracks."
Damien's expression hardened. "Not well enough."
Elena watched as the man she thought she knew—the protector, the lover—shifted into someone else entirely. There was a ruthless edge to him now, a darkness that both terrified and intrigued her.
"We isolate the team," Damien continued. "Bring them in one by one. I want every detail about where they've been, who they've spoken to, and what they've done since this started."
Marcus nodded, already pulling out his phone. "I'll start making calls."
As Marcus stepped out to handle the logistics, Elena turned to Damien. "You think someone close to you betrayed us?"
"I don't think," Damien said, his voice icy. "I know."
The certainty in his tone sent a chill down her spine. "And when you find out who it is?"
"They'll wish they'd never crossed me," he said simply.
Hours later, Damien and Marcus had assembled the team at a nearby location—a secluded warehouse under Damien's control. Elena stayed behind at the safehouse, her heart heavy with worry. Every passing minute felt like an eternity as she paced the small living room.
Finally, the door opened, and Damien walked in. His face was unreadable, his movements calculated as he approached her.
"What happened?" she asked, her voice trembling.
He hesitated, then said, "It was someone I trusted."
Her heart sank. "Who?"
Damien's jaw tightened. "Lucas."
"Lucas?" Elena's stomach churned. She remembered Lucas from the earlier meetings—charismatic, charming, always quick with a joke. "Why would he betray you?"
"Money," Damien said bitterly. "They offered him more than I was paying. And he sold us out."
She stared at him, her heart breaking for the man who had put so much faith in those around him. "What are you going to do?"
Damien's expression darkened. "Take care of it."
"Damien—"
"It's done, Elena," he said, his voice final. "Lucas won't be a problem anymore."
She wanted to ask what he meant, but the look in his eyes stopped her. Instead, she stepped closer, her hand brushing his. "You're carrying so much, Damien. Let me help."
His gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift from his shoulders. "You already are," he said, pulling her into his arms.
As they stood there, wrapped in each other's warmth, Elena couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The lines had been drawn, and the battle for their lives—and their love—was far from over.