The thud of the guard's boots echoed down the corridor, growing louder with each step. My heart pounded in sync, the vial of clear liquid trembling slightly in my hand. This was it. Months of careful observation and stolen supplies boiled down to a single, desperate moment.
I couldn't fail.
From the corner of the dimly lit room, I heard the lock click. The guard stepped inside, his expression the same blend of indifference and menace I'd come to expect. He'd never looked twice at me—just another prisoner to monitor, another pawn in Dominic's twisted game. Tonight, I was counting on that.
I plastered on a meek smile and held up the cup of water I'd prepared. "I'm sorry. I'm not feeling well. Could you..." My voice cracked convincingly. "Could you give this to Dominic? Tell him I'll speak with him tomorrow?"
The guard's eyes flicked to the cup, then back to me. "Why don't you tell him yourself?"
I swallowed hard, feigning embarrassment. "I'd rather not risk... you know... vomiting on his shoes." I gestured weakly toward the bucket in the corner for effect.
He snorted, shaking his head. "Pathetic."
But he took the cup.
The moment he raised it to his lips, my breath caught. One sip, that's all it would take. Ketamine was fast-acting. I'd adjusted the dosage carefully, just enough to knock him out but not enough to raise suspicion when he came to.
Seconds passed like hours. The guard's hand wavered, and his brow furrowed. "What's..."
He slumped forward, the cup shattering on the floor. I was on him before his body hit the ground, dragging him behind the desk. My hands shook as I pulled his keyring free and rifled through his pockets for the passcard I'd seen him use at the main gate.
One obstacle down. Too many to count still ahead.
The hallways blurred as I moved, the adrenaline sharpening my focus. Each step brought me closer to freedom—and to danger. I kept my head down, my pace steady. If anyone saw me, it would be over.
The outer gate loomed ahead, the harsh fluorescent lights casting stark shadows across the concrete floor. My fingers tightened around the passcard as I approached the scanner. This was the moment of truth.
Beep.
The light on the scanner turned green, and the lock clicked open. A shaky breath escaped me as I pushed the heavy gate inward. The cool night air hit my face, crisp and laced with the faint scent of rain. I was so close I could taste it.
And then I heard his voice.
"Going somewhere, Scarlett?"
My blood turned to ice. I spun around, the gate still ajar behind me. Dominic stood in the shadows, his broad frame illuminated by the faint glow of a nearby security light. His hands were tucked casually in his pockets, but his eyes—those piercing, unrelenting eyes—were anything but casual.
"How did you—" My voice betrayed me, trembling as I stepped back.
He took a step forward, the soft crunch of gravel beneath his shoes sending a fresh wave of panic through me. "Did you really think you could outsmart me?"
I gritted my teeth, forcing the fear down. "Get out of my way, Dominic."
He tilted his head, amusement flickering across his face. "Or what? You'll drug me too?"
I reached for the makeshift weapon I'd tucked into my pocket—a syringe filled with the last of the ketamine. My hand shook as I held it up between us.
His gaze darkened, but he didn't stop. "Scarlett." His tone was low, dangerous. "Put it down."
"Stay back," I warned, my voice sharper now. "I'll do it."
He paused, his eyes narrowing. For a moment, I thought I'd won. But then he moved—quick as lightning, closing the distance between us in an instant. His hand shot out, gripping my wrist with enough force to make me cry out. The syringe clattered to the ground, useless.
I struggled against him, every ounce of fight in me surging to the surface. "Let me go!"
"Not a chance," he growled, his voice tight with barely restrained fury.
I met his gaze, defiance burning in mine. "You don't own me, Dominic. You can't keep me here."
For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—something I couldn't quite place. Regret? Relief? It was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the cold, calculating mask I knew too well.
"You think I'm doing this for me?" His grip on my wrist loosened, but he didn't let go. "You have no idea what's at stake."
"Then tell me," I shot back. "Tell me what's so important that you'd keep me locked up like a prisoner."
He stared at me, his jaw tightening. "You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
Silence stretched between us, thick with tension. Finally, he let out a harsh breath, releasing my wrist. "You don't know what you're running from, Scarlett. Or what you're running toward."
His words sent a chill racing down my spine, but I refused to back down. "Anything is better than this."
He laughed bitterly, the sound devoid of humor. "You have no idea how wrong you are."
Before I could respond, he reached down and picked up the syringe, slipping it into his pocket. His gaze softened, just for a moment, as he looked at me. "I should be furious with you."
"Should be?" I asked, my voice laced with sarcasm.
He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But all I can think about is how glad I am that you're safe."
My breath caught, the weight of his words sinking in. Before I could process what it meant, he turned away, his voice cold again.
"Come on," he said, motioning for me to follow. "Before you do something else you'll regret."