The servant’s passage was a tomb of cobwebs and forgotten dust. Elara ran blindly, the sound of the struggle fading behind her, replaced by the frantic thud of her own heart and the scuff of her shoes on stone. She didn’t know where it led, only that it led away.
She finally burst into a disused potting shed, the sudden smell of damp earth and fertilizer overwhelming. Moonlight filtered through grimy windows. She was on the far side of the estate, near the old greenhouses.
Her phone. She had to call for help. For Kaelan.
She pulled it out, her hands shaking so badly she nearly dropped it. The screen glowed, the damning photo of the memo still open. She dialed 9-1-1, her thumb hovering over the call button.
But what would she say? My boyfriend’s billionaire father is trying to kill him
