The basement door swung open fully.
For a second everything was silent.
No music.No laughter from upstairs.
Just the faint hum of something mechanical in the background.
And her breathing.
Sara was sitting on the cold concrete floor.
Exactly where I had seen her.
Her back pressed against the wall. Her knees pulled tightly to her chest as if she was trying to make herself smaller… invisible. Her red dress was crumpled and torn at the edges. One strap had slipped off her shoulder. Dark bruises were forming along her arms where fingers had held her too tightly.
Her hair was no longer perfectly styled. It fell messily around her face, strands stuck to her tear-stained skin. Mascara had smeared beneath her eyes, but it was her eyes that froze me.
They weren't crying anymore.
They were empty.
Like the tears had already finished.
Victor stepped beside me.
And when he saw her his entire body went rigid.
"Sara…" His voice was barely a whisper.
She lifted her head slowly.
When her eyes met mine, recognition flickered.
"Elena…" she breathed.
Then she broke.
She tried to stand, but her legs gave out. I rushed forward without thinking, dropping to my knees beside her. She threw herself into my arms, gripping me desperately like I was the only solid thing left in the world.
"They locked the door…" she sobbed against my shoulder. "They said no one would believe me…"
My heart stopped.
Behind us, I heard Victor's breathing change.
Heavy. Controlled. Furious.
"They?" he repeated slowly.
Sara clung to me tighter.
"There were three of them," she whispered.
The words hit the air like a gunshot.
Victor turned sharply, scanning the basement.
The door behind us was open.
Too open.
The room wasn't empty because they had escaped
It was empty because someone had let them leave.
And that's when Victor's eyes moved toward the security camera in the corner.
"Call an ambulance," Victor said sharply.
His voice cut through the air no hesitation, no confusion now. Just command.
One of the guards who had followed us downstairs immediately pulled out his phone. Within seconds, the quiet basement filled with frantic movement and overlapping voices.
I kept holding Sara.
She was shaking uncontrollably, her fingers digging into my arms like she was afraid I would disappear if she let go.
"I'm here," I whispered over and over. "You're safe now. I promise."
But the word safe felt fragile.
Victor crouched down briefly in front of us. His expression had hardened into something unreadable calm, but burning underneath.
"I'm going to check the cameras," he said quietly to me. "Stay with her."
I nodded.
He looked at Sara for a second longer. His jaw tightened.
"Who were they?" he asked gently.
Sara's lips trembled. "I… I couldn't see clearly…"
Victor stood up slowly.
"Guard," he said coldly, "with me."
The two of them moved toward the stairs.
I watched him go, something heavy settling in my chest.
"They said no one would believe me," she whispered again, barely audible.
My heart clenched.
"They were wrong," I said firmly, though my own fear was rising. "You're not alone."
Upstairs, I could hear hurried footsteps, doors opening, instructions being shouted.
The ambulance lights flashed violently outside the house, red and blue cutting through the night like alarms no one could silence.
Police officers filled the basement within minutes. Questions overlapped. Flashlights scanned corners. Evidence bags rustled.
Sara had been wrapped in a blanket now. She sat on the edge of a stretcher, still shaking, her fingers locked tightly around my hand.
Victor returned from upstairs, his face colder than before.
"The footage?" one officer asked.
Victor handed over a small drive. "Everything from tonight."
The officer nodded and stepped aside to review it on a tablet.
Seconds stretched.
The basement was silent except for the faint replay of grainy video audio.
Then the officer's expression changed.
"They're masked," he said.
My heart dropped.
"What?" I whispered.
Victor stepped closer to the screen.
On it, three figures appeared clearly in the corridor.
Black masks. Hooded jackets. Faces completely hidden.
Precise. Coordinated.
"They knew where the cameras were," the officer added. "They stayed out of direct light."
Victor's jaw clenched. "Can you enhance it?"
"We'll try," the officer replied. "But right now… there's nothing that identifies them."
Nothing.
Sara's breathing hitched beside me.
"They planned it," she whispered weakly.
Victor looked at her carefully. "Did you recognize any voice? Any detail?"
She shook her head slowly. "They were careful."
Silence fell again.
The ambulance team gently lifted Sara onto the stretcher.
She refused to let go of my hand until the last second.
"Elena…" she whispered, her eyes fragile. "You came."
I swallowed hard. "I should've come sooner."
Her head moved faintly. "You saved me."
But the guilt didn't leave.
Because I had seen it before it happened.
And still, it happened.
When the ambulance doors closed and the sirens faded away, I finally felt my legs weaken.
Victor caught me before I could fall.
"Hey," he said quietly, holding my shoulders. "Look at me."
I did.
His eyes were dark, intense not frustrated now, not confused.
Angry.
But not at me.
"This is not your fault," he said firmly.
"I knew," I whispered. "I saw something and I didn't stop it in time."
"You warned me," he said. "You ran to her. That's why she's alive."
Tears burned in my eyes. "What if they come back?"
Victor's expression shifted into something colder. Controlled.
"They won't," he said softly.
There was something in his voice that made me shiver.
Not reassurance.
Promise.
"We'll find them," he continued. "Masked or not."
I looked up at him.
In the flashing police lights, his face looked sharper more dangerous than before.
And for a brief second
I couldn't tell if I was standing beside a protector…
or a man preparing for something much darker.
The police officer approached again.
"We'll keep you updated," he said.
Victor nodded calmly.
But his hand remained tight around mine.Too tight.
We finally left.The party lights were gone.
The sirens were gone. The noise had faded into an uncomfortable silence.
Inside the car, neither of us spoke.
The city lights passed by in blurred streaks through the window. I leaned my head back against the seat, staring at the dark sky.
The accident.The visions.
Sara.
The masked men.
Everything felt connected. Everything felt like pieces of something I still couldn't fully see.
I pressed my fingers lightly against the faint mark near my heart.
Was this what changing fate felt like?
Or was I just stepping deeper into it?
Before I could think any further, Victor's voice broke the silence.
"You're doing it again."
I blinked. "Doing what?"
"Thinking too much."
I looked at him.
He wasn't looking at the road anymore. He glanced at me briefly, then reached for my hand, intertwining our fingers gently.
"You disappear," he said quietly. "Even when you're sitting right next to me."
My chest tightened.
"I'm just tired," I whispered.
He didn't believe that.
"I almost lost you two days ago," he said softly. "And tonight… I watched you run into danger again without thinking about yourself."
His grip tightened slightly not controlling, but protective.
"Why do you do that?" he asked.
Because I already know what happens when I don't.But I couldn't say that.
Instead, I looked at him and forced a faint smile. "Maybe I'm braver than you think."
He gave a small breath of a laugh.
"No," he said gently. "You're more reckless than you think."
The car slowed at a red light. The glow reflected in his eyes, making them look softer than usual.
He lifted my hand and pressed a slow kiss against my knuckles.
"I don't care about the wedding," he said quietly. "Or the business deals. Or the image."
I frowned slightly. "Then what do you care about?"
He looked at me fully now.
"You," he said simply.
The word hung in the air between us.
For a moment, the world felt smaller. Quieter.
Safe.
He reached over and brushed his thumb along my cheek, careful, tender.
"Whatever is going on in your head," he murmured, "you don't have to fight it alone."
My throat tightened.If only he knew.
If only he understood that the man comforting me right now was the same man I had watched become someone else.
The light turned green.
The car moved again.
The city lights blurred past us in streaks of gold and white.
Victor's hand was still holding mine, thumb brushing absent patterns against my skin like nothing in the world was wrong.
But everything was wrong.
I stared at our hands for a long time before speaking.
"Victor…"
He glanced at me briefly. "Hmm?"
His voice was calm. Unaware.
Or pretending to be.
I swallowed.
"Can I ask you something strange?"
A faint smile touched his lips. "You've been asking strange things all week."
"This one is different."
That made him look at me longer.
The traffic light ahead turned red. The car slowed to a stop. The soft glow painted half his face in crimson.
"Go on," he said quietly.
I pulled my hand slightly from his, not completely just enough to feel the absence of his warmth.
"If one day," I began slowly, "you had to choose between your empire… your name… your power…"
He tilted his head faintly. "And?"
"And me."
Silence.Not uncomfortable.Not yet.
Just still.
Victor leaned back slightly in his seat. "That's not a real choice," he said.
"Why not?"
"Because you are part of all of that."
I studied his expression.
Too smooth.
Too certain.
"What if I wasn't?" I pressed softly. "What if I became a problem? A scandal. A weakness."
His jaw tightened slightly at the word weakness.
"You wouldn't."
"You don't know that."
The light turned green, but he didn't move immediately. A car behind us honked lightly. He blinked, then pressed the accelerator.
The car rolled forward.
"Elena," he said slowly, "why are you asking me this?"
I looked out the window.
"Just answer."
His fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
"You think I'd choose business over you?"
"I'm asking if you could."
The atmosphere shifted. The playful tone was gone.
His voice lowered.
"I've never killed for power."
The words hit me harder than they should have.
Never killed for power.
Not never killed.
My heartbeat stuttered.
"That wasn't my question," I whispered.
He was quiet for a long moment.
The road stretched empty ahead of us now.
"If," I said carefully, "if one day the only way to protect everything you built… was to remove me from it…"
His head turned slowly toward me.
"Remove you?"
I forced myself to meet his eyes.
"If you had to kill me… would you?"
The air in the car froze.
No music.
No passing noise.
Just silence.
Victor didn't laugh. Didn't dismiss it.
Didn't immediately say no.
His expression didn't break but something behind his eyes shifted.
Darkened.
"You think I'm capable of that?" he asked quietly.
My chest tightened.
"I think," I said slowly, "everyone is capable of something… under the right circumstances."
He stared at me.Not angry.Not hurt.
"You're scared of me," he said finally.
It wasn't a question.
I didn't answer.
Because that would have been the truth.
He exhaled softly.
"If I ever became a man who could kill you," he said calmly, "it wouldn't be because I wanted power."
My stomach dropped.
"Then why?"
His gaze returned to the road.
"To protect something more important."
The car kept moving.
The city lights flickered across his face, turning him into someone I almost didn't recognize.
"And what," I asked barely above a whisper, "could be more important than me?"
Victor didn't answer immediately.
Seconds passed.
Long.
Heavy.
Finally, he spoke.
"You're asking the wrong question."
My breath caught.
"Then what's the right one?"
He looked at me again.
This time, his eyes were unreadable.
"The right question is," he said softly, "why would you think I already have?"
My heart stopped.
The car continued down the dark road.
And for the first time since my rebirth
I felt like I wasn't the only one remembering something.