Contract With My Hidden Enemy

Chapter Eleven: Declared Dead

“It’s a person.”

The word hung in the damp, subterranean air like a drop of poison.

My hand froze on Elias’s forearm, my fingers digging into his leather sleeve. My brain, already circulating from the trauma of the gunshots upstairs, tried to process the information.

A person locked behind biometric overrides. A person hidden in a sector Silas had explicitly f*******n me from entering.

I stared at Elias, lost in deep thoughts. That must have be the person who had been screaming earlier but I needed to be sure.

"Who?" I whispered finally, my voice bouncing hollowly off the rough concrete walls. "Elias, who is kept on Level Four?"

Elias looked exhausted already, like he regretted opening his mouth at all.

He cleared his throat, a nervous gesture that looked completely foreign on him. He stepped away from me, breaking my grip, and flicked his thumb across the screen of his tablet. The pale blue light washed over his face, revealing a tight, sweating jawline.

A chill crept swept slowly down my spine.

"We don't have time for this," he muttered, avoiding my eyes entirely. "The panic room is another two hundred yards down this corridor. Move."

He pointed his hand forward, gesturing for me to walk.

"No!" I stepped directly into his path, forcing him to stop. "You can't just drop a bomb like that and keep walking. Who is over there? Is it a prisoner?"

A static sound crackled across his screen before stabilizing into the image of the estate above us.

"It’s a Vane liability," Elias snapped, his voice cracking with a sudden, rare flash of heat. "Look, Vienne... there are things about this family that aren't on any public ledger. Silas doesn't keep people in cages for fun.

But since you insist, Level Four is…”

He never got to finish the sentence.

A flashing light started peeping down the tunnel towards us.

“We have to run now…”I said to Elias. Instead of panicking, he strode his hand up, a universal sign for me to shut.

Suddenly the concrete floor beneath our feet bucked violently, throwing me hard against the wall as dust and debris rained down from the ceiling.

Before I could even scream, a heavy, rough hand gripped my shoulder in the dark. It wasn't Elias. The familiar scent hit my senses a fraction of a second before a massive body shielded mine from a falling chunk of stone.

"Silas!" I gasped, my hands automatically finding the wet, torn fabric of his shirt. "You're alive…” I started asking so many question at once.

“How did you escape?” Did she hurt you?”“Hope you taught her a lesson?”

"Quiet," Silas growled, his voice thick with pain and adrenaline. I could feel a hot, sticky liquid dripping from his hairline onto my bare shoulder. Blood.

"Elias! The south exit. Now. Evelyn didn't just open the gates; she brought a demolition crew. They're burying the estate."

I thought for a second. How many exits they had here? West, East and South…

Everything after that became a blurred, terrifying rush. Elias didn't argue. He slammed his body against a hidden emergency release panel further down the wall. A heavy steel door ground open, not leading deeper into the house, but outside, into the freezing winter storm cutting through the forest behind the Vane estate.

The cold air hit my face like a slap, shocking the breath right out of my lungs.

Silas didn't give me a choice to walk after that. He scooped my bare legs up into his arms, ignoring my sharp protest.

Behind us, the distant, sound of collapsing concrete echoed like thunder as the underground tunnels cave in, swallowing whatever secret was hidden in Level Four under tons of stone. I bet the building was falling entirely though I wasn’t sure.

"Where are we going?" I screamed over the howling wind, my fingers tightly knotted into his shirt as he ran through the dense treeline, Elias trailing closely behind with his weapon drawn.

"Away from here," Silas barked, his chest heaving as he pushed through the snow.

"The contract is compromised. The house is compromised. We go to ground."

After that sentence, the freezing breeze finally overtook me, and I slept off in his hands.

I woke up to the smell of cheap coffee and the sound of a sputtering radiator.

There were no high-end mahogany desks, no flashing crimson security lights, and no detached automated voices. I was lying on a lumpy, plaid sofa inside a cramped, dim apartment.

Sunlight—pale, winter daylight—was streaming through a cracked windowpane, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air.

My body ached, my bare feet were bandaged, and I was wearing an oversized gray sweatshirt that clearly belonged to Elias.

"Vienne?!"

A frantic, incredibly familiar voice shattered my daze.

I snapped my head around so fast my neck popped. Standing in the small, messy kitchenette, holding a mug of coffee with trembling hands, was Lena.

Her curls were messy, her eyes were wide and bloodshot with panic, and the second she saw me sitting up, she dropped the mug. It shattered against the linoleum floor, splashing dark liquid everywhere, but she didn't care. She lunged across the small living room and threw her arms around my neck, squeezing me so tightly I could barely breathe.

"Oh my God, Vienne! You're alive," Lena sobbed into my shoulder, her body shaking. "Some guy named Elias showed up at my door at three in the morning, carrying you covered in dirt and blood! He told me your husband's estate was attacked by corporate radicals. I've been losing my mind for six hours!"

I held onto her, the familiar scent of her vanilla perfume finally anchoring my panicked mind back to reality. It felt so incredibly normal. So safe.

But over Lena’s shaking shoulder, my eyes locked onto the far corner of the cramped apartment.

Silas was sitting in a small wooden kitchen chair that looked entirely too small for his massive frame. The left side of his face was heavily bandaged, a dark red stain seeping through the white gauze near his temple. His tailored suit was gone, replaced by a plain black t-shirt, but his dark, possessive eyes were wide awake.

He was staring directly at me, watching Lena hold me with a cold, hyper-vigilant intensity.

He had brought me to the one place Victor Laurent wouldn't look—the broke, civilian apartment of my only childhood friend.

"Vienne, what is going on?" Lena pulled back, her hands gripping my face, her innocent brown eyes searching mine for answers. "Who are those men? Why is your billionaire husband bleeding in my kitchen? Are you safe?"

I opened my mouth to answer, to lie to her to keep her safe.

“How did he know your house?” I asked Lena.

“Girl! Sincerely I don’t know, maybe he made his research before now”. Lena answered quickly, wiping a tears from her cheek. “No time for question vienne, let me get you something to eat”.

But before a single word could leave my lips, the small, outdated television screen sitting on Lena's counter flickered, a loud broadcast chime interrupting the morning news.

"Breaking news out of the financial district," the anchor's voice blared from the small speakers.

"A massive gas explosion has completely leveled the private estate of tech tycoon; Silas Vane. Authorities report no survivors have been recovered from the rubble.”

Gas explosion? That was the biggest lie.

“The family might be dead, but some investigation are still going on, so let be calm for now”.

Meanwhile, a board member Victor Laurent has just stepped up to the stage to announce an emergency transition of all Vane corporate shares in order to avoid waste of resources since the boss might be dead…"

Lena turned her head slowly to look at the TV, her face turning completely pale.

Then turning back to us as if wondering if she just rescued some ghosts.

Beside the counter, Silas slowly stood up from his chair. The dangerous, quiet shadow of his presence completely filled the small apartment, his eyes locking onto mine as the news anchor declared him dead to the world.