His last secret

Chapter 4

The elevator doors slid shut behind me.

“Mr. Elias, I quit,” I said, hugging my file to my chest. “You don’t get to drag me back.”

He didn’t look at me. He pressed `P`. Penthouse.

“You don’t quit from danger, Ava,” he said. “You run to safety.”

The elevator jolted.

Lights flickered once. Twice.

Then darkness.

“Damn it,” he muttered. His hand hit the emergency button. Nothing.

We were stuck.

My breath caught. The space was small. His cologne was too close.

“Don’t touch me,” I said before he could.

“I wasn’t going to,” he said, voice low in the dark. “But you should know—”

The emergency light died. Now it was just us.

“You fired me,” I whispered. “You left me in that market to strangers.”

“I fired you to keep you alive,” he said. “Someone’s been watching the office.”

My heart stopped. “What?”

“Ask me when we’re out.”

Silence. Only our breathing. The air was hot.

“You’re afraid of me,” he said suddenly.

“I’m afraid of what you’re not telling me,” I shot back.

He shifted. I heard his sleeve brush the wall. Not me. Almost me.

“Why did you run, Ava?”

“Because you lie with a straight face.”

He exhaled. A rough sound. “And you fight with your eyes.”

The elevator creaked. We both went still.

“Mr. Elias?” My voice was smaller than I wanted.

“I’m here,” he said. Instant. No hesitation.

That did something to my chest.

Then—click.

Lights.

Doors opened.

And standing in the hallway, arms folded, was a woman in red.

She smiled at him. Then at me.

“Well,” she said. “This is interesting.”

TO BE CONTINUED...

The mansion was silent. Too silent.

Elias led me through a marble hall. “You’re safe here.”

“Safe from who?” I asked.

He stopped at a door. Pushed it open. Inside was an office.

On the desk, a stack of files. All with my name.

“Your mother,” he said, “didn’t give you up.”

He pulled one file out. “She was forced to.”

The papers inside were court orders. Signed by a judge.

And stamped with the Adebayor family seal.

“My grandfather,” Elias whispered.

“He didn’t want ‘impure blood’ in the family.”

I felt sick. “So I’m… your cousin?”

“No.” His voice was firm. “The test says otherwise.”

He slid another paper to me. DNA results.

`0% match. Elias Adebayor.`

I exhaled. Hard.

“Then who is my father?”

He looked at me. Really looked.

“The man who stole my mother’s heart. And my grandfather’s empire.”

Footsteps echoed outside. Fast.

Elias grabbed my wrist. “They’re here.”

The door burst open. Two guards. Guns.

“Mr. Adebayor,” one said, “the board demands her back.”

Elias stepped in front of me. “She’s not going anywhere.”

“Then we take her by force.”

Elias reached behind him. Pulled out the same keycard.

He slammed it into a hidden panel. The wall slid open.

“Run,” he said to me.

I didn’t think. I ran.

Behind me, I heard a gunshot. I screamed.

“ELIAS!”

He didn’t answer.

The tunnel was dark. Cold. It led down, down, down.

To a dock. To a boat.

I turned. No one followed.

I was alone.

But in my hand, I still held the file.

And on the last page, written in ink:

`Her name is Hope. Protect her.`

My mother’s handwriting.

And under it, new ink. Elias’s.

`I will.`

The boat rocked on the water.

I sat in the dark, the file clutched to my chest.

`I will.` Elias’s words burned in my head.

Did he make it? Was he alive?

My phone buzzed. Unknown number.

I answered with shaking hands. “Hello?”

His voice. Low. Rough. “Hope.”

“Elias!” I cried. “You’re alive!”

“I’m fine,” he said. “Are you safe?”

“I’m on a boat. At the dock. Alone.”

“Good,” he breathed. “Stay there. I’m coming.”

The line cut off.

I waited. Ten minutes. Twenty.

Then headlights. A car.

The door opened. It was him.

Blood on his shirt, but he was walking.

He pulled me into his arms. Hard.

“I told you,” he said into my hair. “I will protect you.”

I cried into his chest. “I thought I lost you.”

“You can’t,” he said. “Not now. Not ever.”

He took the file from me. Flipped to the last page.

Read my mother’s words. Then his.

He looked at me. “Your mother wanted you safe.

My grandfather wanted you gone. I choose you.”

He kissed me then. Not gentle. Desperate.

Like a man who’d almost died.

When he pulled back, he held up the keycard.

“This opens everything. The accounts. The company. The truth.”

He pressed it into my palm.

“It’s yours now, Hope.”

The boat engine started. We were moving.

Away from Lagos. Away from Vera. Away from them.

To a place only we knew.

And for the first time, I wasn’t running scared.

I was running with him.

The boat hit open water and the city lights of Lagos faded behind us.

Salt spray hit my face. My hair was a mess. My heart was worse.

Elias stood at the front of the boat, one hand on the wheel, the other holding mine.

His shirt was still stained with blood from the gunshot. But he was breathing. He was here.

“No more running,” he said. His voice was rough from shouting.

I looked down at my palm. The silver keycard glinted in the moonlight.

“What now?” I asked. “Where are we even going?”

“Now,” he said, and turned to face me fully, “we write our own ending.”

He let go of the wheel for a second. Pulled out his phone with wet hands.

Typed something fast. His thumb was shaking.

A second later, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I fumbled for it. The screen was cracked from when I ran.

But the notification was clear.

`New Email: Stary Author Contract`

`From: contracts@stary.com`

I stared at the phone. Then at him. “You… you did this?”

He finally smiled. Not the cold boss smile. Not the angry ex smile.

Tired. Real. Human. “I told you, Hope. I choose you.”

My hands were shaking too much to open it. So he took the phone.

His fingers brushed mine. Warm. Alive.

He tapped the email open.

`Dear Author,`

`Congratulations. Your book "His last secret" has met our minimum requirement.`

`Total words: 5,000`

`Contract Status: Apply Now`

`Tap here to sign and begin earning.`

I read it three times. Four.

`Total words: 5,000`

Five thousand.

I looked up at him. Tears were running down my face and I didn’t even care.

“We did it,” I whispered.

He stepped closer. Took the phone from me. Tossed it on the seat.

“No,” he said, thumbing a tear off my cheek. “You did it, Hope.”

The boat rocked. The engine hummed.

“All those chapters,” I said, laughing and crying at the same time.

“Chapter 15. 16. 17. 18. All of them. For this.”

“For us,” he corrected.

He pulled me against him. I could hear his heart. Fast. Like mine.

He smelled like salt, blood, and something that was just Elias.

“I thought I’d lost you at the mansion,” I said into his chest.

“You can’t lose me,” he murmured. “Not when you’re the ending I’ve been looking for.”

He tilted my chin up. His eyes were dark in the moonlight.

No more secrets. No more files. Just him.

“Sign it,” he said softly.

I took the phone back. My finger hovered over `Apply Now`.

“What if Stary says no again?” I whispered. “What if the words don’t count?”

“They will,” he said. Certain. “Because I’m not letting their system steal this from you.

Not after everything.”

I pressed it.

`Contract Submitted. Under Review. 24 hours.`

I exhaled. A real breath. For the first time in days.

Elias took the keycard from my palm. Held it up.

“This opens everything,” he said. “The accounts. The company. The truth.”

He placed it on a chain around my neck. It was cold against my skin.

“It’s yours now, Hope Adebayor.”

“I’m not an Adebayor,” I said.

“You are,” he said, “if you want to be.”

The boat engine shifted. We were moving faster now.

“Where are we going?” I asked again.

“Away,” he said. “Away from Vera. Away from my grandfather. Away from them.”

He pointed to the horizon. The first line of sunrise was breaking. Pink. Gold.

“To a place only we know,” he said. “Where you can write.

Where no one can fire you. Where no one can take this from you.”

I leaned into him. The file was still in the boat. But I didn’t need it anymore.

My story was here. In my hands. In the contract email.

In the man who’d chosen me over everything.

The sun rose higher. It lit up his face. Lit up the water.

And for the first time since I was fired on day one…

I wasn’t running scared.

I was running with him.

And this time, we weren’t looking back.