The Girl Who Shouldn’t Have Survived

Chapter Five

DAMIAN'S POV

I watched her retreat into the bedroom, the door clicking softly behind her. The silence of the apartment pressed against me, heavier than the city’s night ever could. I remained in the living room, leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. My face betrayed nothing...cold, composed, but every instinct in me screamed alert.

She was safe for now, but that didn’t mean she would stay that way. Whoever tampered with her brakes had meant to kill her. Adrian, my mother… or someone else entirely. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.

I moved quietly to the window, peering down at the street below. The shadows of Los Angeles stretched long, unbroken. Nothing moved. Too quiet. Too clean.

Elena Hart. Just the name made my chest tighten. She didn’t know she’d been saved, by me. She didn’t know the stakes. And she didn’t know the truth about what her life had been, or what my family had done.

I had promised myself I would remain detached. Cold. The Voss way. But standing here, alone with her absence echoing through the apartment, that promise felt brittle. I could not forget the way she had slumped in my arms, unconscious and fragile. The faint scent of paint and jasmine lingering on her skin.

She deserved safety. And I would provide it. Not because of love, no. That was dangerous and irrelevant. But because letting her die, letting her fall into someone else’s hands, was unacceptable.

I checked my phone again. No messages. No sign that Adrian had made a move. That didn’t ease me. The man couldn’t be trusted. Not now, not ever.

The sound of the shower running made me tense. She was cleaning herself, scrubbing away the world’s dirt, unaware that the danger wasn’t over. That threat lingered like a phantom, waiting for the slightest misstep. I could protect her, but only if I remained vigilant, only if I kept my distance and controlled the situation.

A part of me wanted to knock on the door, tell her to stay still, to stop moving, to let me handle everything. But I didn’t. I would not betray the cold, untouchable persona I needed her to see. She must think me indifferent, calculating. Perfectly untouchable.

I had been nice to her at the hospital, only because I wanted her to trust me, and go home with me.

Home with me. Something about the words made my stomach turn...in a way that I liked.

I moved to the living room again, pacing. The city lights slanted through the blinds, casting stripes across the floor. My thoughts kept returning to that painting...the one that had set everything into motion. The colors were chaotic, but the truth behind them was clear. Whoever had tried to erase her wanted to bury a secret. A secret I had known since the night she vanished.

I clenched my fists, my knuckles whitening. I had a duty. To her. To the truth. To stop the people who would harm her. And yet… I could not tell her. Not yet.

The sound of a knock made me freeze. One sharp, deliberate knock at the door. My head snapped toward it. I wasn’t expecting anyone.

Another knock. Louder this time.

I moved to the door silently, the muscles in my back coiling. Whoever it was, they wouldn’t get in without me noticing. I placed my hand on the handle and opened it just enough to peek through the crack.

The hallway was empty.

I stepped out, my eyes scanning, heart betraying nothing. A folded envelope sat on the welcome mat. Clean, precise, deliberate.

I picked it up carefully, noting the absence of fingerprints. The handwriting was unfamiliar. The seal unmarked.

I tore it open. Inside, a single sheet of paper:

“She knows more than she should. If you value her life, she must disappear. Tonight.”

I stiffened, every muscle in me rigid. My mind raced. Someone else had moved before Adrian. Someone else was hunting her.

And, I wasn't even sure if this note was a warning, or just the 'hunter' playing tricks on me. To distract me from protecting her.

I folded the note slowly, masking the surge of anger and fear that threatened to break through my carefully maintained composure. She didn’t know. She trusted me. And if anything happened to her… no. I would not allow it.

I returned inside, closing the door quietly, but my thoughts were far from calm. The clock ticked toward midnight. Every second that passed was another second she remained unaware of the threat inches away.

She stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, hair dripping. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of me.

“I… uh…” Her voice faltered.

I lifted a hand, stopping her words. “Stay here. Do not leave this apartment. Not until I say it’s safe.”

She nodded, uncertain, but obedient. There was a flicker of fear in her eyes...not of me, but of the situation she didn’t fully understand.

I turned back to the window, letting my cold exterior settle over me like armor. The city was dark, the streets quiet. But I knew better. The danger was close. Too close.

And then, a sound. A shadow moving in the alley below. A figure I didn’t recognize. The moment our eyes would meet would decide everything.

I exhaled slowly. Calm. Controlled. But inside, the only thought repeating was clear, unrelenting, and cold as ice:

She will not die tonight.

Before I could react further, the figure raised something glinting in the moonlight…a knife aimed toward the window she had just passed.