Episode Seven: Safehouse
1530 Words
I ran.
Not gracefully.
Not elegantly.
Just pure survival instinct in heels across wet pavement.
The driver stayed close behind me while reporters shouted somewhere farther down the street. Rain soaked through my clothes within seconds, cold water sliding down my neck as we hurried toward the side entrance of my apartment building.
“Head down,” the driver muttered urgently.
Easy for him to say.
My entire life was apparently trending online.
We slipped through the back entrance just before another wave of camera flashes lit the street outside.
The door slammed shut behind us.
Silence.
Well—
Almost silence.
My breathing sounded embarrassingly panicked.
The driver glanced outside through the narrow glass panel before finally relaxing slightly.
“They didn’t see you.”
Small victory.
I leaned against the wall trying to steady my heartbeat.
Everything felt unreal.
Three days ago my biggest concern had been covering Mom’s next treatment bill.
Now paparazzi were hiding outside my apartment while billionaires discussed marrying me like a business acquisition.
What the hell had happened to my life?
“You should go upstairs quickly, miss.”
Right.
Mom.
Mateo.
I immediately reached for the stairwell.
“No elevator,” the driver warned. “Too easy to track.”
Of course elevators could be tracked now.
Fantastic.
By the time I reached the fourth floor, my legs were burning and my hair looked like I’d survived a hurricane.
I unlocked the apartment door carefully.
The second I stepped inside, Mateo appeared from the couch.
“Where have you been?”
His expression shifted instantly from anger to alarm.
“Elena, why are you soaked?”
Before I could answer, the television behind him caught my attention.
And my stomach dropped.
My face filled the screen.
A blurry photo of me getting into Damian’s car outside the restaurant flashed beside bold red headlines.
VALE HEIR SPOTTED WITH SUSPENDED NURSE
RUMORS OF SECRET RELATIONSHIP EMERGE
“This can’t be real,” Mateo whispered.
I stared at the screen numbly.
Then another clip appeared.
Damian standing in the rain surrounded by reporters.
Protecting the car.
Protecting me.
The news anchor spoke rapidly about “possible romantic involvement” and “speculation surrounding the late Isabelle Vale.”
I suddenly felt sick.
Mateo muted the television immediately.
“What is going on?”
Good question.
I dropped Damian’s jacket over the kitchen chair without thinking.
Huge mistake.
Mateo noticed instantly.
His eyes narrowed.
“Why do you have his jacket?”
Wonderful.
Absolutely wonderful.
Before I could answer, Mom’s bedroom door opened slowly.
“Elena?”
She stepped out looking exhausted and pale, wrapped in her sweater despite the warm apartment.
The second she saw my face, worry filled hers.
“What happened?”
I moved toward her immediately.
“Nothing, Mom. Go back to bed.”
But her eyes landed on the television screen.
Then on Damian’s jacket.
Then back on me.
Mothers noticed everything.
Especially the things you desperately wanted hidden.
Mateo stood up sharply.
“She was with the billionaire.”
“Mateo—”
“The one from the hospital.”
Mom frowned softly.
“The man from the video?”
I wanted the floor to swallow me alive.
“Yes,” Mateo answered before I could stop him. “Apparently now they’re following her home too.”
Mom’s expression changed instantly.
Fear.
Not for herself.
For me.
That made it worse somehow.
“Elena,” she said carefully, “are you in trouble?”
The question nearly broke me.
Because I didn’t even know how to answer anymore.
“Yes,” I admitted quietly.
The apartment fell silent.
Rain tapped against the windows while the muted television continued flashing images of my destroyed life.
Mom slowly sat at the kitchen table.
She looked smaller lately.
Thinner.
Every dialysis session seemed to take more from her.
Guilt twisted painfully inside me.
Because all of this chaos—
The marriage offer.
The humiliation.
The media circus.
Part of me was still thinking about it.
For her.
Mateo crossed his arms.
“What does that guy want from you?”
I looked away immediately.
Which was apparently enough to terrify him.
“Elena.”
I swallowed hard.
“His family wants…” My voice almost disappeared. “They want us to fake a relationship.”
The silence afterward felt enormous.
Then Mateo laughed once.
Except there was nothing amused about it.
“You’re joking.”
“I wish I was.”
Mom looked completely confused.
“Why would they want that?”
“Public image,” I said bitterly. “The company’s getting bad press after Isabelle died.”
Mateo stared at me like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“So their solution is pretending the billionaire and the nurse are in love?”
“When you say it out loud, it sounds even crazier.”
“This is crazy!”
His voice rose enough that Mom flinched slightly.
Instant regret crossed his face.
He lowered his voice immediately.
“They’re using you.”
“I know.”
“You can’t seriously be considering this.”
I didn’t answer fast enough.
And that terrified both of them.
Mom’s expression fell first.
Then Mateo’s anger vanished completely.
“What did they offer you?” he asked quietly.
That question hurt most because he already knew.
Money.
Treatment.
Security.
Hope.
Things we didn’t have anymore.
I sat down slowly across from Mom.
“They know about the transplant.”
Mom inhaled sharply.
Mateo went pale.
For a moment nobody spoke.
The reality settled heavily over the room.
Then Mom reached for my hand.
“No.”
Her voice sounded weak but firm.
“Elena, absolutely not.”
“Mom—”
“No.” Tears filled her eyes immediately. “You are not sacrificing your life for me.”
“You wouldn’t be asking me to sacrifice anything.”
Mateo looked at me like he barely recognized me.
“Yes, they would.”
And deep down—
I knew he was right.
The apartment suddenly felt very small.
Very tired.
The rain outside only made everything heavier.
Then my phone buzzed again.
Every muscle in my body tightened instantly.
Unknown Number.
I almost ignored it.
Almost.
But something told me not to.
I answered cautiously.
“Hello?”
“Elena.”
Damian.
Just hearing his voice again made the entire night rush back.
Camera flashes.
Rain.
His hand shoving the jacket toward me.
My stomach tightened unexpectedly.
“You escaped,” he said.
I blinked.
“That sounds weirdly criminal.”
A pause.
Then—
“I suppose tonight was weirdly criminal.”
To my horror, a small laugh escaped me.
Mateo looked deeply offended by that.
I turned away slightly.
“What do you want?”
“I need to know if reporters saw you enter the building.”
I glanced toward the curtained windows.
“Not that I know of.”
“Good.”
His voice still sounded calm, but beneath it I could hear exhaustion now.
Real exhaustion.
Not billionaire boredom.
The kind that sat in your bones.
“There are still reporters outside,” he continued. “Don’t leave tonight.”
I frowned.
“You think I don’t know that?”
“Elena.”
Something in his tone made me pause.
“You’re not safe there anymore.”
Cold crept slowly through my chest.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
A brief silence followed.
Then Damian said carefully, “Your apartment address leaked online an hour ago.”
Every sound inside the apartment disappeared.
Mom stared at me immediately.
Mateo swore under his breath.
“What?”
“There are already forums reposting your information,” Damian continued grimly. “Phone numbers. Work history. Your mother’s hospital records.”
My blood turned ice cold.
“No.”
“I’m sending security.”
Absolutely not.
“No, you are not.”
“You need protection.”
“I need my life back.”
The words came out sharper than intended.
But instead of getting angry, Damian just went quiet.
When he finally spoke again, his voice sounded lower somehow.
“I know.”
That stupid answer again.
Soft.
Honest.
Hard to hate.
I pressed a trembling hand against my forehead.
Outside, another camera flash lit the apartment window.
Mom startled visibly.
And suddenly something inside me cracked.
Because this wasn’t just affecting me anymore.
They were scared too.
Damian spoke again before I could think.
“There’s a secure property outside the city.”
I immediately frowned.
“A what?”
“A house.”
“Normal people call that a house.”
“I’m trying to help.”
“You’re trying to relocate me like witness protection.”
“If necessary.”
Mateo shook his head violently from across the room.
I agreed with him.
This was insane.
But then another flash burst through the curtains.
And another.
Someone outside shouted my name.
Mom looked terrified now.
Damian’s voice came quietly through the phone.
“Elena.”
I closed my eyes.
“You can hate me tomorrow,” he said. “Right now I just need you safe.”
- Writer
