INICIAR SESIÓNELARA'S POV
I couldn't just sit there. Not with Matteo in danger. Not with those men having him.
I jumped off the couch, nearly tripping over my own feet as I grabbed my bag and keys. My hands were still shaking so badly I could barely grip them properly.
I had to find him. Had to do something.
I needed to call the hospital. Tell them I couldn't come in for my next shift. Make up some excuse. I didn't care what they thought. Matteo's life was more important than my job.
I pulled out my phone with trembling fingers and dialed the charge nurse's direct line. It rang three times before she picked up.
"St. Mary's ER, this is Karen."
"Karen, it's Elara." My voice came out strained and breathless.
"I need to take emergency leave. Starting now."
There was a pause on the other end.
"Elara? Your shift doesn't start until tomorrow morning. Are you okay?"
"No. I mean yes. I mean—"
I pressed my free hand against my forehead, trying to think straight through the panic.
"It's a family emergency. My brother. I can't explain right now but I need someone to cover my shifts for the next few days."
"How many days are we talking about?"
"I don't know." My voice cracked.
"However long it takes. Please, Karen. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't serious."
Another pause. Longer this time. I could hear her flipping through papers, probably checking the schedule.
"Alright. I'll see what I can do. But Elara, you know we're already short-staffed. I can cover you for maybe three days, four at most. After that—"
"I understand. Thank you. I have to go."
I hung up before she could say anything else. My mind was racing too fast to process work schedules and staff shortages. None of that mattered. Not when Matteo was out there somewhere, possibly hurt, definitely in danger.
I grabbed my jacket from the hook by the door and shoved my arms through the sleeves. My keys jangled in my shaking hands as I tried to fit them into my bag's side pocket.
Where would they have taken him? The loan sharks. Where would they go?
I didn't even know where to start looking. Didn't know their names, their location, anything. Just that cold voice on the phone and the threats that came with it.
Seventy-two hours. That's what he'd said. Seventy-two hours to come up with fifty thousand dollars or—
I couldn't finish that thought. Couldn't let myself imagine what they'd do to him if I failed.
My phone was still in my hand, the screen showing Matteo's contact information.
I hit redial again even though I knew it was useless. Even though I'd already tried twenty times, it went straight to voicemail.
"Damn it, Matteo!" I wanted to throw the phone across the room. Wanted to scream until my throat was raw.
"Where are you?"
Think, Elara. Think.
The police. Should I call the police?
But what would I even tell them? That my brother borrowed money from loan sharks and now they had him? They'd probably laugh at me.
And what if involving the police made things worse? What if it made those men angry enough to hurt Matteo?
I couldn't risk it. Not yet.
I needed more information first. Needed to know exactly what I was dealing with before I made any moves.
My bag was packed. My jacket was on. I stood by the door, keys in hand, ready to leave.
But I had nowhere to go.
The realization hit me like a wall. I was standing here, desperate to save my brother, and I had absolutely no idea how to find him.
Tears burned my eyes again but I blinked them back furiously. Crying wouldn't help. Falling apart wouldn't help. I needed to stay calm. Stay focused.
My phone rang.
The sudden sound in the silent apartment made me jump so hard I nearly dropped it. My heart hammered against my ribs as I looked at the screen.
Unknown number.
For a second, I just stared at it. Afraid to answer. Afraid of what I might hear on the other end.
But it could be Matteo. It could be someone calling about Matteo.
I swiped to answer with shaking fingers.
"Hello?"
"Miss Santos." That same cold voice from before. The man who'd told me about the debt.
"I assume you've been trying to reach your brother."
My stomach dropped.
"Where is he? What have you done to him?"
"Nothing yet." The man's tone was almost bored.
"But that could change very quickly depending on how cooperative you are."
"Please." I hated how my voice broke. Hated begging. But I'd do anything if it meant keeping Matteo safe.
"Please don't hurt him. I'll find the money. I'll figure something out. Just give me time—"
"Time is exactly what you don't have, Miss Santos." He cut me off smoothly.
"But I'm calling to offer you an opportunity. A chance to resolve this situation quickly and cleanly."
"What kind of opportunity?"
"Come see us. In person. Tonight. We'll discuss the terms of your brother's debt and how you plan to repay it."
Ice spread through my veins.
"Come see you? Where?"
"I'll text you the address after we hang up. Come alone. Don't bring the police. Don't tell anyone where you're going. If you do, your brother pays the price. Understood?"
My mind raced. This could be a trap. They could be planning to grab me too. Hold us both for ransom.
But what choice did I have? Matteo was with them. In their hands.
"How do I know he's even alive?" The question came out steadier than I felt.
"How do I know you haven't already hurt him?"
"You don't." The man's voice held a hint of amusement.
"You'll just have to trust that we have no interest in damaging the merchandise before we're paid. Dead men can't pay debts. And neither can their sisters if they're too traumatized to work."
The casual cruelty of his words made me sick.
"Let me talk to him. Let me hear his voice."
"That's not how this works, Miss Santos. You don't make demands. You follow instructions. Come to the address I'm about to send you. Come tonight. Come alone. Or your brother's debt gets paid in blood instead of money. Your choice."
"Wait—"
But he wasn't done talking. His voice dropped lower, more dangerous.
"Oh, and Miss Santos? Don't even think about running. We know where you live. Where you work. We know your routines. Your friends. Everything. There's nowhere you can hide that we won't find you. So save us both the trouble and just show up. Nine o'clock. Don't be late."
My throat was so tight I could barely speak.
"How will I know it's the right place?"
"You'll know." There was a smile in his voice now. Dark and unsettling.
"Trust me, you'll know."
"What if I can't come up with the money?" I had to ask. Had to know what we were really facing.
"What if there's no way to pay you back?"
The silence on the other end stretched out. Long enough that I thought he might have hung up.
Then he spoke, and his words made my blood run cold.
"Then we'll find another way for you to settle the debt. There are always alternatives, Miss Santos. Always other forms of payment.”
I understood exactly what he meant. And the understanding made me want to vomit.
"I'll be there," I whispered.
"Nine o'clock. I'll come."
"Smart girl. The address will be on your phone in sixty seconds. Don't disappoint me."
The line went dead.
I stood frozen, phone pressed against my ear, my entire body trembling. Sixty seconds. In sixty seconds I'd know where to go. Where they were keeping Matteo. Where I'd be walking straight into danger with no backup and no plan.
My phone buzzed. A text message from an unknown number.
I stared at the address, my heart pounding so hard I felt dizzy. Industrial Boulevard. I knew that area. It was on the outskirts of the city. Abandoned factories and empty warehouses. The kind of place where screams wouldn't be heard and bodies
could disappear without anyone noticing.
I had to go. Had to face these men. Had to find some way to get Matteo out of there alive.
Even if it meant walking into a trap. Even if it meant risking my own life.
He was my brother. My responsibility. My family.
And I'd already failed him once by not seeing how deep his problems went. I wouldn't fail him again.
I looked at the clock on my phone. Six thirty. I had two and a half hours to figure out some kind of plan.
Two and a half hours to save my brother's life.
Or lose everything trying.
ELARA'S POV The slide down was loud and violent, a dark, suffocating rush of cold metal that scraped my skin before throwing me out onto a heap of heavy laundry bags. I rolled off them onto the hard concrete floor, the air entirely knocked out of my lungs.For a long time, I just lay there in the dark. I couldn't move. My knees were bleeding, my chest felt like it was caving in, and my throat was raw from screaming at him. The air down here smelled like damp earth and stale detergent, this incredibly normal, boring smell that felt completely wrong after all the gunfire and smoke upstairs.I pulled my knees into my chest and just started shaking. It wasn't a normal cry; it was this dry, ugly sobbing that made my whole body ache.*He knew.* He knew the whole time. Every single time he looked at me, every time he acted like he cared or tried to make me feel safe in his house, he knew he was the one who made me an orphan. And the worst, most disgusting part was that I had actually starte
(ELARA'S POV)The static from the radio died out, leaving a high-pitched ring in its place. The urgent warning hung in the air, a countdown clock we couldn't see, but Dante didn't move. He stayed frozen on his knees, his eyes locked onto mine, a storm of unsaid words crashing behind his dark irises.For a second, I thought he was going to ignore the radio entirely. I thought he was going to give me the answer that was currently choking him.Then, a distant explosion rattled the foundation of the concrete room. Dust rained down from the ceiling, dusting his dark hair with white ash.The spell broke.Dante lunged to his feet, the vulnerability that had just cracked his features vanishing behind a mask of cold, lethal efficiency. He grabbed my arm, his grip firm but careful not to hurt me."We have to move," he said, his voice dropping an octave, slipping back into the tone of the man who commanded empires."No!" I yanked my arm back, the revulsion sharp and electric. "Don't touch me! I’
**ELARA'S POV**The world went white.The sound of the door blowing inward was deafening, a sharp crack of wood and metal that rattled straight through my teeth. Dust and grey smoke flooded the small concrete room, stinging my eyes.Through the haze, a dark silhouette appeared.It was Dante.He didn't look like the man from the penthouse. The elegant, calm billionaire was completely gone. This version of him was terrifying. His coat was stained with soot, his jaw was set like stone, and the heavy black gun in his hand looked like an extension of his own arm. His eyes cut through the smoke, instantly locking onto mine.For a fraction of a second, the entire world went completely still.My heart hammered against my ribs, but it wasn't just from the explosion. I stared at him, and my mind felt like it was splitting in half.I saw the man who had held me gently in his penthouse hours ago.But behind him, the frozen image on the static screen was still burned into my retinas. The younger D
Dante's PovThe moment the voice in my wrist comm cut to static, I moved.I didn’t panic. Panic is for people who don’t have a plan, and I always have a plan. I just recalculated.But when I tried to look around, the penthouse didn’t respond. The smart-glass partitions remained frozen and the climate control had flatlined, leaving the air heavy and dead. That alone confirmed what my gut already knew but my mind didn’t want to admit. This wasn’t some amateur hack from the outside. Someone was inside my walls. They had internal access.I stepped through the pitch-black space, keeping my gun leveled and steady. The glass fragments under my shoes crunched softly, each snap sounding like a gunshot in the suffocating silence.“Elara,” I called out once.Nothing.I bit down on my back teeth. The system was never supposed to allow a silent extraction. Every single movement inside this perimeter should have tripped a domino effect of alarms, physical lockdowns, and lethal countermeasures.
ELARA'S PovThis apartment always felt too safe. That was the first lie Dante built into this place. It wasn't about the expensive floors or the huge glass windows. It was just the quiet. It was the kind of deep quiet that made you think nothing bad could ever happen up here unless he said it was okay.I stood by the edge of the living room with my arms wrapped tight around myself. I was trying hard not to think about how I got here. He brought me here against my will. I kept trying not to think about Matteo, or the blood on the floor, or the cold way Dante had looked at me. He looked at me like I was just a thing he owned now. I am a nurse, so I know what bad situations look like. But this was different. This was just a man using quiet to hide a trap.Across the room, Dante stood by the big glass window and talked into his watch. His voice had no feeling in it at all. He just asked if the outside was clear. A tiny voice came back through the static and said yes. Dante did not rel
ELARA’S POVThe words didn’t make sense at first.They hovered on the screen like a different language, something my mind saw but refused to read.*Recovery Protocol for Subject Elara Santos.*I stared until the letters blurred.“No,” I said, shaking my head. “No, Dante, that’s not real.”My voice didn’t sound like mine. It sounded thin and uncertain.Dante didn’t move or blink. He kept the phone angled toward me, showing a document neither of us could ignore.“You’re reading it wrong,” I said faster, panic rising in my throat. “This is a setup. Someone is trying to confuse me.”“To confuse you?” he cut in.His stare felt heavy, like pressure against bone.“Yes,” I whispered, but it came out weak.Dante let out a short, rough breath. “Elara. This file didn’t get leaked to confuse anyone.”He lowered the phone, letting the screen glow fade from my face.“Kovac doesn’t make mistakes,” he said. “If this is out, he wanted it out.”My throat felt tight. “You keep saying names like I’m supp
(Elaras pov)It started with the sound in the corridor behind a soft, uneven rhythm that did not belong in a place like this. Footsteps, maybe. Or something trying too hard to sound like footsteps. My body reacted before my mind could even decide what I was hearing. My shoulders tightened without
ELARA'S POVI remained seated on the edge of the bed long after waking up, unable to shake the feeling that something wasn't right.The dream should have faded the moment I opened my eyes.Instead, it lingered.Every detail remained painfully clear in my mind, replaying itself over and over again n
ELARA'S POVI remained seated on the edge of the bed long after waking up, unable to shake the feeling that something wasn't right.The dream should have faded the moment I opened my eyes.Instead, it lingered.Every detail remained painfully clear in my mind, replaying itself over and over again no
(ELARA’S POV)**The silence after Sophie left felt heavier than the fight itself.My throat still burned where her hand had been. My wrist ached where she twisted it. My chest still felt tight, like I couldn’t fully pull in air.I stayed on the floor for a moment, leaning against the bedroom door,







