Kaelen's hand didn't leave my arm as he helped me into the car. The door shut with a soft, final thud, sealing the world out—or maybe sealing us in.
The quiet was too much. Too sudden. My pulse filled it.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking. I tried to press them together in my lap, but they trembled harder, my nails biting into my palms. The air smelled faintly of leather and Kaelen's cologne, but underneath that was something metallic, cold—fear, maybe, still clinging to my skin.
He held onto me quietly. Eyes stayed on me, steady but dark with worry.
"Elara."
I shook my head, my breath hitching. "He—someone—he was right there, Kaelen. I heard him. He said my name."
My voice cracked halfway through, and before I could stop it, a sob tore out of me—sharp, ugly, desperate. It startled me as much as him.
Kaelen's jaw tightened. He caught my hand in his, grounding me with the warmth of his touch. "Hey... Hey... Look at me."
I did—barely. His eyes weren't calm; they were burning. Controlled fury under glass. But his thumb moved slow, tracing circles over the back of my hand.
"You're safe," he said quietly. "You're with me now. It's alright. It's safe."
The words should've helped. They didn't. The moment I blinked, the dark corridors came back—the echo of footsteps, the man's voice calling my name. My body remembered before my mind did: the van, the blindfold, the breath that wasn't mine too close to my ear.
"I couldn't—" I tried to speak, but the words splintered. I pressed my palms against my face, trying to hold myself together. "I couldn't move. For a second I thought—"
"I know," he said softly. "I know, Elara."
The car was moving smooth but fast. City lights bled across the windshield in gold streaks, too bright, too fast. Every shadow looked like someone watching. I flinched when a motorcycle roared past, my body jerking before I could stop it.
Kaelen held onto me. "It's just a bike," he murmured. "Breathe. In, out. That's all you need to do right now."
I tried. In, out. But each inhale came out uneven, every exhale snagged on the edge of panic. I hated how small I felt—how weak.
"I thought I was done with this," I whispered. "I thought I was past it."
"You don't get past something like that," Kaelen said quietly, gently guiding my head onto his chest. "You survive it. Then you keep surviving, one night at a time."
Something in his voice broke me again. I sat up and turned toward the window, tears streaking down without sound this time. He didn't say anything else, just stayed close to me. The silence between us wasn't empty—it was heavy with all the things he wanted to promise and couldn't.
I didn't even realize when we stopped.
The car eased to a halt beneath the private awning of Kaelen's building, the rain-streaked city blurring behind the tinted windows. The driver said something softly, but I couldn't make it out—everything was muffled, like sound underwater.
Kaelen was out first, from his side. A second later, my door opened, the cool night air slicing through the warmth of the car.
"Elara."
His voice was low, steady, but I heard what hid underneath—the tight thread of fear that hadn't quite let go.
I wanted to tell him I could walk. That I was fine. But when I tried to move, my body disagreed. My legs felt numb, like I'd run miles and my nerves hadn't caught up.
Kaelen didn't wait for me to decide. He leaned in, unbuckled my seatbelt, and gathered me into his arms in one smooth motion. My breath hitched as I felt the press of his heartbeat against my cheek, solid and human and unrelenting.
"Kaelen—"
"Shh," he murmured, his lips brushing the side of my hair. "Don't say anything."
The driver opened the glass doors ahead of us, head respectfully lowered as Kaelen carried me through the marble lobby. The echo of his footsteps filled the space—measured, purposeful, the sound of someone holding it together by sheer force of will.
I buried my face against him, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne and starch and something metallic from his cufflinks. Every few steps, my chest tightened again, remembering the voice in the dark corridor, the way my name had sounded coming from a stranger's mouth.
By the time the elevator doors slid open, I was shaking again. Not from cold. From the kind of terror that sat deep in your bones and didn't fade with light.
Kaelen shifted his grip slightly, holding me closer, one arm firm around my back, the other under my knees. He didn't look down at me, but his jaw was clenched tight, his throat working as if he was swallowing every word he wanted to say.
The elevator doors opened to the penthouse—dark, quiet, the faint hum of the air system the only sound.
He didn't set me down until we reached the couch. He moved with that same careful precision he used in boardrooms—controlled, deliberate—as if I might shatter if he wasn't careful.
When he finally lowered me onto the couch, the room tilted slightly. I reached for something solid and found his hand.
He didn't pull away.
"Elara."
I looked up. His face was drawn—anger, fear, and tenderness all wound too tightly together. "You're safe now," he said. "It's been a long day. Go rest, alright?"
My chest rose, fell, hitched again. "I'm sorry, Kaelen," I managed, voice breaking. "It's just that—"
"I know," he said. His voice was soft but iron underneath. "I know, Elara."
He leaned forward, resting his forehead against my knee, one hand still wrapped around mine. "I swear to you," he said quietly, "I'll find out who it was. I'll make sure they never get close to you again."
The driver's voice came faintly from the elevator—
"Sir, shall I leave the car ready?"
Kaelen didn't even look up. "Yes. Give me five minutes."
The elevator doors shut again. Silence fell, heavy and fragile.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand, trying to steady my voice. "You're going back out."
He straightened slowly, eyes meeting mine. "I have to. If they already know we're onto them, they will be covering the trail. I need to intercept what's left before it disappears."
I nodded, though my stomach twisted at the thought of him leaving. "Then I'm coming with you."
"No." His answer was immediate. Firm. "You need to rest."
I gave a humorless laugh. "You think I could sleep after that?"
He exhaled through his nose, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "Elara—"
He stopped mid-sentence. Whatever he was about to say dissolved as his eyes found mine—really found them.
I hadn't realized how hard I was gripping my arms until his gaze dropped to my hands. My fingers were white around my sleeves, knuckles trembling. The adrenaline was ebbing, leaving behind that hollow, icy kind of fear that seeps into the bones.
Kaelen's expression softened instantly. The CEO vanished; the man remained.
"Elara." His voice lowered—steady, coaxing. He reached out, his palm warm as it brushed against my arm.
"I'm fine," I said, though it came out smaller than I meant.
He didn't call me on the lie. Just stood there, close enough that his warmth dulled the edge of the panic still clawing at my chest.
"Flora's in the kitchen," he said quietly, like he was talking someone down from a ledge. "She's making you soup. She'll stay with you until I get back."
I blinked up at him. "You already called her?"
"I texted her in the car," he said. "You were—" He stopped himself, his throat moving. "You were terrified. I didn't want you alone, even for a minute."
Something inside me twisted. "Kaelen, I can't just sit here while they—"
He shook his head, his thumb brushing once across my cheekbone, wiping away a tear I hadn't realized was there. "You can. Just tonight. You did what you had to. You got out. That's enough for now."
I swallowed hard, my pulse still uneven. "And what about you?"
"I'll handle the rest," he said, voice calm but lined with steel. "I'll have Mark trace Helios's liquidation filing and the legal agents involved. If they think we're backing off, they'll move faster—and that's when I'll catch them."
I wanted to argue, to insist that I could help, but my body betrayed me—the slight tremor in my hands, the heaviness in my limbs, the leftover echo of being trapped and hunted.
Kaelen saw it all. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to my forehead—a silent command, a promise. "Rest," he murmured. "I'll be back before you wake up."
Then he turned to leave, the quiet authority in his stride almost enough to make me believe the night hadn't shaken us both to the core.
Flora appeared in the doorway with a steaming mug in her hands, the scent of tomatoes and broth curling through the air.
"Come, Miss Sterling," she said gently. "Let's get you something warm."
I glanced once more toward the door Kaelen had just walked through, the sound of it closing soft and final. Then I followed Flora to the kitchen, the tremor still lingering in my fingertips.