Lena tightened her grip on the phone, her breath shallow as she pressed her back against Damian's desk.
The door handle twisted again.
"Stay where you are," Knight's voice came through the line, low and controlled. "I'm two minutes out."
Two minutes.
That felt like a lifetime.
The door didn't open, but the presence on the other side was undeniable. Whoever it was wasn't leaving.
Lena scanned the room, searching for something anything she could use as a weapon. Her eyes landed on a heavy glass paperweight near the edge of the desk. She snatched it up, holding it tightly in her palm.
The silence stretched.
Then
A single knock. Slow. Deliberate.
A voice followed, muffled but distinct.
"Mrs. Blackwood."
Her stomach clenched.
She didn't recognize the voice. It wasn't one of Damian's guards, nor one of the house staff.
Lena swallowed hard. "Who's there?"
A pause. Then
"You don't belong here."
The words were spoken with eerie calm.
Lena's pulse roared in her ears.
"Leave," she said, forcing steel into her voice. "Now."
Silence.
Then footsteps. Soft. Fading.
She listened until she was sure the person was gone, but she didn't move from her spot. Her grip on the paperweight tightened, her body stiff with tension.
"Lena."
She nearly jumped at Knight's voice.
"I'm here," she whispered.
"Stay put."
A moment later, the door burst open, and a man stepped inside tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a sharp black suit. His eyes, a cold gunmetal gray, scanned the room instantly.
Lena exhaled shakily. "Knight?"
He nodded once.
The air around him crackled with quiet authority, and in that moment, Lena understood why Damian trusted him. He was a man used to control, to handling threats before they could manifest.
"You're safe," he said, his voice steady. "But we need to move."
Lena didn't argue.
He led her quickly through the corridors, his pace measured but urgent. The Blackwood estate was eerily quiet, the weight of what had just happened settling heavily over her.
"Who was that?" she finally asked.
Knight's jaw tightened. "Someone who shouldn't be here."
They reached the main hall just as another set of footsteps echoed through the space.
Damian.
He strode toward them, his suit crisp despite the late hour, his expression unreadable—but Lena didn't miss the sharp flicker of relief in his eyes when they landed on her.
"What happened?" His voice was calm, but she could hear the fury simmering beneath.
"She had a visitor," Knight said smoothly. "Didn't introduce himself. But he knew her name."
Damian's entire body went rigid.
Lena watched as something dark and dangerous flickered across his face.
"Did you see him?" he asked her, his voice quiet, controlled.
"No." She shook her head. "But he left me a message."
Damian's eyes locked onto hers. "What did he say?"
Lena swallowed. "He said I don't belong here."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Damian's fingers curled into fists at his sides. His entire presence shifted from composed billionaire to something far more dangerous.
"That was a warning," Knight said grimly.
Damian's gaze never left Lena. "No," he murmured. "That was a mistake."
Lena didn't know who had sent that message, but as she looked into Damian's stormy gray eyes, she realized one thing.
Whoever it was…
They had just made an enemy of a man who never lost.