Chapter Twelve
1063 Words
The room fell silent.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
Damien stared at the words painted across the wall.
Bring Elena. Come alone.
Beneath the message was Victor's signature—a crooked smiley face painted in dark red.
Elena felt a shiver run down her spine.
"Vivian..." she whispered.
The room looked like a battlefield.
The wardrobe doors hung off their hinges.
The mirror was shattered, glass scattered across the floor.
The bedside lamp had been knocked over, its shade ripped apart.
One of the guards groaned from the floor.
Blood trickled down the side of his forehead.
Damien knelt beside him immediately.
"What happened?"
The guard slowly opened his eyes, wincing in pain.
"There were... four of them."
His voice was weak.
"They cut the power to this floor... we never saw them coming."
Damien's jaw tightened.
"They used smoke."
The guard nodded.
"I tried to stop them."
His breathing grew heavier.
"They took Miss Vivian..."
He hesitated.
"...and they left that message."
Damien helped him sit up.
"You did your job."
The guard lowered his head.
"I'm sorry, sir."
"This isn't your fault."
Elena had never heard Damien speak so gently to one of his staff.
The guard nodded before another security officer entered the room with a first-aid kit.
Damien stood.
His eyes returned to the message on the wall.
For the first time since Elena had met him...
He looked completely lost.
Not angry.
Not cold.
Lost.
The sight broke something inside her.
She stepped closer.
"Damien."
He didn't answer.
"Look at me."
Slowly, he turned.
His eyes were red.
Not from tears.
From exhaustion.
From fear.
From guilt.
"This is my fault," he said quietly.
"No."
"It is."
He laughed bitterly.
"Victor doesn't want Vivian."
His voice cracked.
"He wants me to suffer."
Elena's heart tightened.
"And he's succeeding."
She reached for his hand without thinking.
His fingers were cold.
Ice cold.
He looked down at their joined hands before meeting her eyes again.
"I'm going."
"No."
"I'm ending this."
"You don't even know where he is."
Damien remained silent.
Which meant...
He did know.
"You know where he'll take her."
He nodded once.
"The old Vale Estate."
"The place Daniel is being held?"
"Yes."
Her stomach twisted.
Victor had brought both captives to the same place.
It wasn't a coincidence.
It was a trap.
A carefully planned one.
"Then we call the police," Elena said.
"We already have."
One of the guards stepped forward.
"The police have surrounded the area."
Damien shook his head.
"They won't help."
"Why not?"
"Victor expects them."
Another guard placed a laptop on the table.
"We intercepted a message from one of Victor's men."
Damien looked at the screen.
His expression darkened.
Elena stepped beside him.
The message contained only one sentence.
One police officer enters the estate... they both die.
Her blood ran cold.
Victor had planned everything.
Every possibility.
Every escape.
Every rescue.
He wasn't just dangerous.
He was brilliant.
And that made him even more terrifying.
An hour later...
The mansion's war room buzzed with activity.
Maps covered the walls.
Security footage played across multiple screens.
Phones rang constantly.
Guards moved in and out with updates.
Yet none of it seemed enough.
Elena sat quietly near the window.
She couldn't stop thinking about Vivian.
She remembered the shy smile she'd worn only a few days ago.
The way she'd teased Damien.
The hope that had slowly returned to her eyes.
Now she was somewhere with Victor.
Alone.
Scared.
A lump formed in Elena's throat.
A cup of tea appeared in front of her.
She looked up.
Damien.
"You haven't eaten."
"I'm not hungry."
"You need your strength."
She sighed.
"So do you."
He gave a tired smile.
"I'll eat later."
"You always say that."
He didn't argue.
Instead, he sat beside her.
For the first time in hours...
Neither of them spoke.
Outside, dawn was beginning to break.
The rain had finally stopped.
The sky was painted soft shades of grey and gold.
Normally it would've been beautiful.
Today it felt cruel.
The world was waking up while theirs was falling apart.
After several minutes, Elena finally spoke.
"Tell me about Vivian."
Damien looked surprised.
"What?"
"You always talk about protecting her."
She smiled sadly.
"But you've never told me who she really is."
He leaned back in his chair.
Silent for a long time.
Then he began.
"When she was fourteen..."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"Victor kidnapped her."
Elena's eyes widened.
"What?"
"It happened before Ethan died."
He looked out the window.
"Victor kept her for three days."
A chill ran through Elena.
"Three days?"
Damien nodded.
"When we found her..."
He stopped speaking.
His hands tightened into fists.
Elena gently placed her hand over his.
He continued.
"She never spoke for almost a year."
Her heart broke.
"The doctors called it severe trauma."
He laughed bitterly.
"They said she'd recover."
Another silence.
"They were wrong."
Elena couldn't imagine what Vivian had endured.
It explained everything.
Her fear.
Her panic.
The nightmares.
Damien closed his eyes.
"I promised I'd never let him touch her again."
His voice cracked.
"And I failed."
Elena squeezed his hand.
"No."
"I did."
"No, Damien."
He finally looked at her.
"You've spent years protecting everyone."
Tears filled her eyes.
"You can't blame yourself every time evil chooses to hurt someone."
His expression softened.
"You always defend me."
"Because someone has to."
A tiny smile appeared.
Then disappeared.
The door suddenly opened.
One of the guards hurried inside.
"Sir."
Damien stood immediately.
"What is it?"
"We received another package."
The room fell silent.
The guard slowly placed a small black box on the table.
Everyone stared at it.
No one moved.
Attached to the lid was a white envelope.
With Elena's name written across it.
To Elena Rhodes.
Damien's face darkened.
"Don't touch it."
The bomb squad was called immediately.
Twenty tense minutes later...
The technician carefully opened the box.
"It isn't explosive."
Everyone released a small breath.
Inside the box...
Was Vivian's silver necklace.
The one she wore every day.
Elena covered her mouth.
Beneath it lay a folded note.
Damien picked it up slowly.
His eyes scanned the page.
His face drained of color.
"What does it say?" Elena whispered.
He looked at her.
Then quietly read the words aloud.
"Tick tock, Damien.
Every hour you waste... someone pays the price."
- Writer
