Claimed by the Hellbound Rider

The Things We Leave Behind

Elena POV

Luca still hadn't come back to the penthouse, and I couldn't stop the relief I felt. I didn't think I could look him in the eyes after the phone call I made.

My reflection showed the ravages of a sleepless night spent tossing and turning. I couldn't get his cold voice out of my head, knowing if he found out I'd called the tip line, he'd follow through on his words.

Still, I splashed water on my face to try to get some color back, and set about covering the exhaustion with make-up. The guards Luca insisted on would undoubtedly report back to him if I still looked upset. My best chance at getting out of this alive was to act normal.

What even was that, anyway? How did I let this life become my new normal?

My eyes fell on the picture of Luca and me in the Bahamas. We'd gone last year, right after I'd gotten the job as the chief photographer for Lumen. He wanted to celebrate my success. I bit back the sob that wanted to escape at the memory.

I'd thought he loved me. I knew I loved him. But you couldn't love someone and admit you'd kill them as calmly as if you were ordering a coffee.

Going to my closet, I selected my outfit for the day with more intention and care than I thought I'd ever give clothing. The leggings were thick, the boots flat-soled and comfortable. The tunic top had just enough weight that I'd be warm, but not overly so. I looked like I was ready to spend a day outside with my camera.

Exactly as I needed to look.

My gaze fell on the safe in the back of the closet, and I punched in the code. I ignored the ache in my heart as I typed out the date we met on the keypad and pulled the door open when it unlocked. Grabbing what I needed, my hand hesitated over one of the SSD drives on the second shelf. I knew he swapped these out weekly, that they held backups of his work—though he'd never told me exactly what that was. Before I could think better of it, I snatched one of those, too.

I packed up my equipment bag, tucking the papers I'd pulled from the safe inside and putting the SSD drive right next to the rest of my memory cards and flash drives. If anyone inspected my bag, it should blend right in. My hand trembled as I zipped everything shut.

There was a chance Luca would check and see my birth certificate and passport missing, would spot the fact that there was one less drive, but it wouldn't be for days if he held true to his pattern.

By then, I'd be gone.

I took one last look around the bedroom.

Luca’s watch sat on the dresser beside a stack of papers he'd brought home days ago and never touched again. His cologne still lingered faintly in the room, wrapped into the sheets and the heavy curtains and every piece of this life we'd built together. For one dangerous second, I almost convinced myself to stay. To pretend I hadn't heard what I heard. To keep living inside the illusion a little longer.

But I knew I'd already gone too far. So I picked up my camera bag and walked out.

The penthouse was quiet. It was still early enough that the housekeeper wasn't here yet, which I was grateful for. One less person I had to pretend in front of. Briefly, I thought about grabbing something to eat, but my stomach flipped over at the thought of food. So instead, I kept moving.

Two guards stood on either side of the penthouse doors when I exited. They fell into step behind me as I moved to the elevator.

"Early morning, Ms. Ward? Do you need the car?"

I didn't recognize this one. He must be new. His partner was a regular guard on our floor. I think his name was Michael. I gave them both a brief smile as they checked the elevator before moving aside.

"My editor wants some shots of Central Park waking up. I'm fine to walk. It's not far."

Michael held the elevator door as I passed through, giving me a nod. "No problem, Ms. Ward. Antonio and Renzo will be waiting for you downstairs."

"Thank you, Michael."

Luca had told me many times not to bother with learning the guards' names, but it always felt rude to me. I knew what it felt like to be nameless, to be perceived as just a servant to the elite. I'd never wanted the men around me to feel that same way.

He smiled and nodded once, then stepped back and watched as the doors closed. I leaned against the wall. First hurdle completed. I focused on the numbers as they counted down the floors to help calm my breathing and steady the slight tremble in my hands. I could feel my heartbeat racing and I wasn't even out of the building yet.

The elevator came to a stop, and the doors slid open. I stepped out and started moving through the lobby, briefly acknowledging the two men who fell into step behind me.

"Would you like me to carry your bag, Ms. Ward?" Antonio asked. Luca had assigned him to me several months ago, so we'd gotten to know each other some. As much as you could get to know the man who was charged with maintaining your safety, anyway.

I shook my head, grateful for this bit of normalcy. Antonio always asked. I always refused.

"You know better by now, Antonio. You're not here to be my pack horse."

He laughed, a big, bold sound that carried through the doors and out onto the street as we stepped through. He smacked his stomach—he really was built like a horse, thick and solid—and said, "You wound me, Ms. Ward. I make an excellent pack horse."

We walked the two blocks to Central Park in companionable silence, and I thought through my next steps. I needed this to look like I was here to take pictures, which wasn't hard. Antonio was used to me going to random places in the city and pulling out my camera, and Renzo had been his partner long enough to understand this wasn't unusual. But they were also good at their job, and I needed to get some space from them in order for my plan to work.

Luca will probably blame them. The thought made guilt twist in my stomach, but I had to push it aside. I could only hope that he didn't hurt them too badly.