Chapter 9: 24 Hours
2078 Words
The basement.
That text kept flashing in my head all night.
`Check the basement.`
I didn’t sleep. Not really. I laid there listening to the house. Waiting for footsteps. Waiting for Victoria Cole to walk through the front door with lawyers and cameras.
Damian said we had 24 hours.
24 hours before his mother went to the press.
24 hours before she tried to take everything from us again.
At 5AM I gave up and went downstairs.
The kitchen was dark. Mrs. Hale wasn’t up yet.
I made coffee and sat at the island, staring at my phone. No new messages.
The twins would be up in an hour. Damian would be up in 30 minutes.
And then there was the basement.
Our house had one. I’d never been down there. In 5 years as the nanny, I was told it was storage. Off limits.
Now someone was telling me to go.
My hands were shaking when I stood up.
The basement door was behind the pantry. Heavy. Wood. Locked.
There was no key on the hook.
“Looking for something?”
I jumped. Damian stood in the doorway in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Hair messy. Eyes sharp. Like he hadn’t slept either.
“The text,” I said. “Someone told me to check the basement.”
His face went hard. “Show me.”
I showed him the messages. All of them. The box. The email. The basement text.
He read them twice. Then he cursed under his breath.
“Come on,” he said.
He went to a drawer and pulled out a key. An old brass one.
“You have the key?” I asked.
“My father built this house,” he said. “There are keys to everything.”
We went to the pantry. He unlocked the door.
Cold air hit us. The smell of dust and concrete.
The stairs went down into darkness.
Damian flipped a switch. Fluorescent lights buzzed to life.
It wasn’t just storage.
The basement was huge. Bigger than the garage. Shelves lined the walls. Boxes. Old furniture.
And in the center, a desk. With a laptop on it. Open.
My heart stopped.
“Who’s been down here?” I whispered.
“No one in years,” Damian said. “I thought.”
He walked to the desk. The laptop screen lit up when he touched it.
One file on the desktop. `FOR_ELENA.mp4`
Damian looked at me. “Don’t watch it.”
“It’s for me,” I said. “I have to.”
He hesitated. Then he nodded and pressed play.
The video started.
It was Victoria Cole.
She was sitting in what looked like a hotel room. Expensive. Perfect hair. Perfect suit. Perfect smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Hello, Elena,” she said. “If you’re watching this, it means Damian brought you down here. Good boy.”
My stomach dropped.
“I’m sure he’s told you a lot of lies by now,” Victoria continued. “About the contract. About me. About the baby.”
Damian’s jaw tightened.
“But here’s the truth,” she said. “Five years ago, Damian didn’t fire you because of me. He fired you because he found out you were pregnant. And he didn’t want it.”
The room tilted.
“That’s a lie,” Damian said.
Victoria smiled on the screen. “Is it? Ask him about the clinic, Damian. Ask him why he paid for it.”
The video cut off.
Silence.
“Damian,” I whispered.
He wouldn’t look at me. “It’s not what it sounds like.”
“Then what does it sound like?” My voice was shaking. “You paid for my miscarriage?”
“Yes,” he said finally. “Because you called me. Crying. You said you didn’t have insurance. You said you were scared. So I sent money. Anonymously. I didn’t even know if you used it.”
“You let me think I was alone,” I said. “For 5 years.”
“I was trying to protect you!” he snapped. “From my mother! From the press! From me!”
“Protect me?” I laughed. It hurt. “By lying?”
The lights flickered.
Both of us froze.
Footsteps. Above us.
In the house.
Damian grabbed my arm. “Stay behind me.”
We ran up the stairs. Through the pantry. Into the kitchen.
Mrs. Hale was standing there. Pale.
“There’s someone at the front gate,” she said. “They say they’re from the news.”
Damian pulled out his phone. 12 missed calls. All from his lawyer.
And one text from Victoria: `24 hours starts now.`
He looked at me. “We need to get the kids.”
---
The next 6 hours were a blur.
Lawyers. Security. Press at the gate.
Damian’s lawyer filed emergency guardianship papers. Victoria’s lawyer filed for full custody.
The twins didn’t understand. Lily kept asking why there were so many men in suits. Max hid behind me.
By 2PM, a judge granted temporary joint guardianship. To both Damian and me.
Victoria lost. For now.
But she didn’t go away.
At 3PM, the first article dropped online.
`BILLIONAIRE DAMIAN COLE IN CUSTODY BATTLE WITH EX-NANNY. ALLEGATIONS OF SECRET PREGNANCY.`
There was a photo of me. Leaving the clinic 5 years ago.
My face was everywhere.
I locked myself in the bathroom and threw up.
Damian knocked. “Elena? Let me in.”
“Go away,” I said.
“No,” he said. “Not this time.”
The door wasn’t locked. He came in and sat on the floor next to the tub.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For all of it.”
“Stop saying that,” I said. “Sorry doesn’t fix this.”
“I know,” he said. “But I’m not leaving. Not again.”
I looked at him. Really looked. He was exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes. His hands were shaking.
“Why?” I asked. “Why now?”
“Because 5 years ago I was scared,” he said. “And stupid. And I thought if I let you go, you’d be safe. But you weren’t. You were alone. And it’s my fault.”
He took my hand.
“I love you, Elena,” he said. “I have for 5 years. And I’m done hiding it.”
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to.
But Victoria’s words were in my head. `He didn’t want it.`
---
At 6PM, Victoria showed up at the gate. In person.
With cameras.
Damian went out to meet her. I stayed inside with the kids.
I watched from the window.
She was immaculate. Red coat. Sunglasses. Smile for the cameras.
“You’re hurting those children,” she said to Damian. Loud enough for the mics.
“You’re the one who put them on TV,” Damian said.
“I’m protecting them,” she said. “From her. A woman with no money. No family. Who got pregnant and lost it.”
Lily started crying behind me.
“Turn it off,” I told Mrs. Hale.
But it was too late. Max had heard.
“Miss Elena lost a baby?” he asked. Small voice.
I knelt down. “Yes, baby. A long time ago.”
“Is that why you’re sad sometimes?” Lily asked.
My heart broke. “Sometimes.”
Damian came back in 20 minutes later. He looked furious.
“She’s gone,” he said. “For now. But she’ll be back.”
“What did she say?” I asked.
“That she’ll drop the custody suit if I send you away,” he said. “Tonight.”
The room went quiet.
“And what did you say?” I asked.
Damian looked at me. “I told her to go to hell.”
I exhaled. I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath.
---
Night came fast.
The twins were asleep. The house was quiet again.
Damian and I sat in his office. Papers everywhere. Legal documents.
“We have 18 hours left before she does something else,” he said. “So we need a plan.”
“What kind of plan?”
“The truth,” he said. “We go on TV. We tell our story. Before she does.”
“Are you crazy?” I said. “I don’t want to be on TV.”
“I don’t want that either,” he said. “But if we don’t, she controls the narrative.”
I thought about it. About the photos. About the comments online. About Lily and Max seeing it.
“Okay,” I said. “We do it.”
Damian looked surprised. “Really?”
“Really,” I said. “But on one condition.”
“What?”
“No more secrets,” I said. “Anything. Everything. From now on.”
He nodded. “Deal.”
We shook on it.
His hand was warm.
“Can I ask you something?” I said.
“Anything.”
“Five years ago. Did you want it? The baby?”
He was quiet for a long time.
“Yes,” he said finally. “I was terrified. But yes. I wanted it. I wanted you.”
I nodded. Tears in my eyes.
“Come here,” he said.
I went to him. He pulled me into his lap in the office chair. Wrapped his arms around me.
We didn’t talk. We just sat.
For the first time in days, the bond between us felt real. Not broken. Not forced. Just us.
At 11PM, my phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: `You have 13 hours left. Run while you can.`
I showed Damian.
He deleted it. “Ignore it.”
But I couldn’t.
At midnight, the power went out.
The whole house. Dark.
“Damian?”
“I’m here,” he said. He was already moving. “Security system is down too.”
“Who would—”
The front door crashed open.
Men in masks. 4 of them.
Damian pushed me behind him. “Get to the kids,” he said.
I ran.
Lily was screaming. Max was crying.
“Get under the bed,” I said. “Now.”
I grabbed my phone and called 911.
Downstairs, I heard shouting. Then a gunshot.
I froze.
“Damian!”
No answer.
Another shot.
I picked up a lamp. Stupid. But it was all I had.
I crept to the door.
Downstairs, Damian was on the floor. Bleeding from his shoulder.
One of the men had a gun to his head.
“Where is she?” the man said.
“Don’t,” Damian said. Blood on his teeth. “Don’t touch her.”
The man looked up. Saw me on the stairs.
“Found her,” he said.
He aimed the gun at me.
Time stopped.
“NO!” Damian shouted.
The gun fired.
I closed my eyes.
But the pain never came.
I opened them.
The man was on the ground. Not me.
Police sirens. In the distance.
Damian was crawling to me. “Elena? Are you hit?”
“I’m okay,” I said. “I’m okay.”
He pulled me into his arms. Tight. Shaking.
“It’s over,” he said. “It’s over.”
The police came. Ambulances.
They took Damian to the hospital. Shoulder wound. Not life threatening.
They arrested 3 men. One was dead.
At 3AM, I sat in the hospital waiting room with Lily and Max asleep on me.
A detective came over.
“Mrs. Carter?” he said.
“Miss,” I corrected.
“Miss Carter,” he said. “We traced the texts. The box. The video. It was all sent from inside the house.”
My blood ran cold.
“Inside?”
“Yes,” he said. “From the basement laptop. And the IP matches your home wifi.”
I stared at him.
“Which means,” he said. “Someone in your house is working with Victoria Cole.”
The door to Damian’s room opened.
A nurse stepped out.
“Miss Carter? He’s awake. He’s asking for you.”
I stood up.
But my eyes went to the stairs. To the dark hallway.
Someone in this house wanted me gone.
And they just tried to kill us to do it.
End of Chapter 9
- Writer
