Emily's breath came in short gasps as she crouched beneath the overturned table, her body pressed against Roberto's. The acrid smell of burnt rubber and broken glass filled the air, and distant shouts echoed from outside the café.
"What's happening?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Roberto's sharp gaze scanned their surroundings. "I don't know," he said, his tone a mix of calm authority and simmering rage. "But whoever is behind this doesn't want us finding out the truth."
Emily clutched the folder tighter against her chest, the weight of its mysterious contents pressing heavily on her mind. "You think… this is about the report?"
"It has to be," Roberto replied grimly, his jaw tightening. "Stay close to me. We're leaving."
Roberto pulled her to her feet, his grip firm but protective. The café was in shambles, with patrons and staff huddled in fear. The shards of glass crunched beneath their hurried steps as Roberto guided Emily toward the back exit.
The night air hit them like a slap, cold and sharp. Roberto's sleek black car was parked across the alley, its driver already opening the door.
"Get in," Roberto commanded, shielding Emily as he scanned the shadows for any sign of danger.
Emily hesitated, her instincts torn between trust and suspicion. "Roberto, what's going on? Why would someone—"
"I'll explain everything," he interrupted, his tone softer but urgent. "But not here. Please, Emily. Trust me."
The vulnerability in his voice startled her. This wasn't the cold, arrogant CEO she had grown used to—it was someone else entirely. She nodded, climbing into the car just as Roberto slid in beside her.
The car sped through the city streets, the hum of the engine the only sound between them. Emily gripped the folder tightly, her thoughts racing.
"What's in here?" she finally asked, holding it up.
Roberto hesitated, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "I don't know," he admitted. "But whoever that person was, they wanted you to have it—and someone else didn't."
Emily swallowed hard, the reality of the situation dawning on her. "Do you think this has to do with Claudia?"
Roberto's lips pressed into a thin line. "It's possible. She's capable of this kind of deception. But there's something bigger at play here."
Emily opened her mouth to respond, but the car suddenly swerved, throwing her against Roberto's shoulder.
"What the—" Roberto snapped as the driver jerked the wheel, narrowly avoiding a black SUV that had appeared out of nowhere.
"They're following us," the driver said, his voice steady but tense.
Roberto's expression darkened. "Lose them."
As the car raced through the labyrinth of city streets, Emily's fingers worked frantically to open the folder. Inside were several documents, photos, and a small handwritten note.
Her eyes scanned the first page—a bank statement with her father's name on it. The numbers didn't make sense.
"This isn't real," she muttered, flipping to the next page.
The photos were blurry but recognizable—her, entering the Harrington building, meeting Margaret, walking with Roberto. Her heart sank.
"Someone's been watching me," she whispered.
Roberto glanced at her, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
She held up the photos. "These… they're all of me. Why would someone go to this extent?"
Before Roberto could answer, the SUV behind them rammed into their car, sending Emily's head snapping forward.
"Hold on!" Roberto shouted, wrapping an arm around her as the driver maneuvered sharply.
After a heart-pounding chase, the driver managed to lose the SUV, pulling into a dimly lit parking garage. Roberto opened the door and guided Emily out, his hand resting protectively on her back.
"Where are we?" she asked, her voice shaky.
"Safe, for now," he replied, leading her toward an elevator.
The ride up was tense and silent. When the doors opened, Emily found herself in a luxurious penthouse, its sleek design a stark contrast to the chaos they had just escaped.
Roberto poured himself a drink, his hands trembling slightly as he downed it in one gulp.
"Talk," Emily demanded, her voice firmer now. "No more vague answers. What's really going on?"
Roberto set the glass down, meeting her gaze. "I think someone is trying to destroy both of us. Claudia might be involved, but this goes deeper. The question is, why you?"
Emily hesitated before speaking, her voice quiet. "I think… they're using me to get to you. But why would Claudia—"
Roberto interrupted, his voice cold. "Because she wants control. And if she can't get it through the board, she'll sabotage me personally."
Emily sighed, the weight of the night crashing down on her. "I don't know what to believe anymore," she admitted. "This feels… unreal."
Roberto approached her, his expression softening. "You don't have to face this alone, Emily. I'll protect you."
Before she could respond, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen—a blocked number.
Hesitating, she answered. "Hello?"
A distorted voice crackled through the line. "You're in over your head, Emily. Walk away before it's too late."
Her blood ran cold as the line went dead.
Roberto stepped closer, his face clouded with concern. "Who was that?"
Emily looked up at him, her fear evident. "I think… I'm being watched."
The penthouse windows suddenly shattered as a rock crashed through, landing at their feet with a chilling note attached:
"This is your final warning."
The sound of glass shattering echoed in Emily's ears, her heart pounding as she stared at the rock and the ominous note lying at her feet. She bent down slowly, her fingers trembling as she picked up the crumpled paper.
Roberto snatched it from her before she could unfold it, his eyes scanning the bold, threatening letters. His jaw clenched, and his knuckles whitened as he crushed the note in his hand.
"They've crossed a line," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous.
Emily felt a chill run down her spine. "Who are they?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "What do they want with me?"
Roberto stepped closer, his tall frame imposing but protective. "It's not you they're after," he said, his eyes locking onto hers. "It's me. You're just collateral damage."
"Collateral damage?" Emily repeated, her voice rising. "I didn't ask for any of this! I didn't want to be dragged into your dangerous world."
Roberto's expression softened, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. "I know," he said quietly. "But I'll make this right. I promise."
Roberto turned to his driver, who had followed them into the penthouse. "Call security. Double the detail at all my properties, and find out how the hell someone managed to get to us here."
The driver nodded and left the room, leaving Emily and Roberto alone in the shattered silence.
Emily crossed her arms, her voice shaking with anger and fear. "I don't need your promises, Roberto. I need answers. Who's behind this? And why am I the one being threatened?"
Roberto sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Claudia's the most obvious suspect. She's been gunning for my position ever since my grandfather passed the company down to me. But this…" He gestured to the broken window. "This is bigger than her. This is personal."
Emily shook her head. "I don't understand. Why would someone go to such extremes to hurt you? And what do I have to do with any of it?"
Roberto hesitated, his piercing eyes studying her face. "You're important to me," he admitted, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable.
Emily blinked in surprise. "Important? You barely know me, Roberto."
"You saved my life," he said simply. "That night in the alley, you didn't think twice about helping me. And now, because of me, your life is in danger. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotion.
---
Emily looked away, her thoughts spinning. She wanted to believe him, but her instincts warned her that trusting Roberto could lead to more pain.
"What do we do now?" she asked finally.
"We figure out who's behind this and stop them," Roberto said firmly. "But first, I need to get you somewhere safe."
Emily shook her head. "I'm not running away. Whoever this is, they're targeting me because of you. Hiding won't change that."
Roberto frowned. "It's not hiding. It's being smart. You're not trained for this, Emily."
"And you think I'm just going to sit around while someone tries to ruin my life?" she shot back, her voice rising. "I've been through worse than this, Roberto. I'm not scared of them."
His gaze softened, a mix of admiration and frustration flickering in his eyes. "You're stubborn," he said, almost to himself.
"I'm determined," she corrected.
Roberto sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Fine. But you're staying with me. I'm not taking any chances."
As the night wore on, Emily found herself in one of Roberto's lavish guest rooms, the events of the day replaying in her mind. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, even in the safety of his penthouse.
She glanced at the folder on the bedside table, its contents still unexplored. A part of her was terrified of what she might find inside, but another part of her knew she couldn't avoid the truth forever.
Across the hall, Roberto sat in his study, a glass of whiskey in his hand as he stared at the broken window. The city lights glimmered in the distance, a stark contrast to the darkness that seemed to close in around him.
He thought about Emily—her defiance, her courage, the way her presence seemed to unsettle him in ways he couldn't explain. For the first time in years, he felt something other than control, and it scared him.
In the dead of night, Emily woke to the sound of faint footsteps outside her door. Her heart pounded as she sat up, straining to hear.
"Roberto?" she called softly, but there was no response.
The footsteps grew louder, closer, until they stopped right outside her room.
Her breath hitched as the doorknob turned slowly, the creak of the hinges echoing in the silence.
"Who's there?" she demanded, her voice trembling.
The figure stepped into the faint moonlight streaming through the window. It wasn't Roberto.
Before she could scream, a gloved hand clamped over her mouth, and the last thing she saw was the glint of a blade in the stranger's hand.