Chapter 2
846 Words
No Choice
Cold air hit Elena's face the moment the emergency door swung open into the alley behind the library. A black car sat waiting at the curb, engine already running, headlights off. Someone had known exactly how this night would end before it even started.
"Where are you taking me?" Her voice shook.
"Somewhere you'll stay quiet."
"You can't just take me. People will notice I'm gone. My coworker will call the police when I don't answer my phone tomorrow."
"They'll assume you left town for a while. People do that more than you'd think." He opened the back door and looked at her, waiting. "Get in."
"No."
"That wasn't a request."
"I said no—"
He didn't argue. He simply raised the gun again, lower this time, angled toward her side instead of her head, close enough that the message landed without him needing to say another word.
Her legs felt like they belonged to someone else as she climbed into the back seat. He slid in beside her, not across, close enough that she could feel the warmth coming off him even through her coat.
The car pulled away from the curb and the library disappeared behind them, its lights shrinking smaller in the back window until they vanished completely.
"What's your name?" she asked, mostly because the silence pressing down on her was worse than anything he could say.
He didn't answer right away. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost bored, like the question didn't matter enough to bother him.
"Damian."
"Damian what?"
He turned his head and looked at her for the first time since they'd gotten in the car, and something about the way he looked at her made her stomach drop.
"You'll find out soon enough, Elena."
She froze. "How do you know my name?"
He smiled, but it wasn't a warm smile. It was the kind of smile that told her he already knew far more about her life than she was comfortable with.
"I know everything about you now," he said. "That's the problem."
The car kept driving, farther from everything familiar, and Elena realized with a sinking feeling that she had no idea where they were going, or what would happen to her once they got there.
The car finally turned off the main road and followed a long private drive lined with tall trees until a house came into view. It didn't look like a home. It looked like a fortress, with iron gates, security cameras mounted at every corner, and men in dark suits standing near the entrance who didn't so much as glance up when Damian walked past them with a stranger at his side.
Elena tried to remember everything. The turns the car had taken to get there. The code Damian punched into the gate without bothering to hide it from her. The number of guards she could count near the front doors. She had spent years cataloging small details for a living, and even now, terrified as she was, some part of her brain refused to stop paying attention.
"This way," Damian said, guiding her through heavy doors into an entryway with high ceilings and cold marble floors that echoed with every step.
"You live here?"
"I run things here."
"What things?"
He didn't answer. He led her up a wide staircase, down a long hallway, and stopped in front of a door near the end.
"This is your room until we sort out the arrangements."
"Arrangements." Elena repeated the word like it tasted wrong in her mouth. "You said I'd stay quiet. That's all. I don't need a room. I need to go home."
"You're not going home."
"You can't keep me here."
Damian turned to face her fully, and for the first time since the library, she saw something colder than calm behind his eyes.
"I killed a man tonight because he betrayed people who trusted him," he said. "You watched me do it. In my world, that means one of two things. You're loyal to me, or you're a liability. I don't kill women without a reason, Elena. Don't give me one."
Her throat tightened. "So what happens to me now?"
He looked at her for a long moment before answering.
"You're going to marry me."
The words didn't make sense at first. She actually laughed, a short disbelieving sound that surprised even her.
"You're joking."
"I don't joke."
"That doesn't even make sense. Marrying me doesn't stop me from talking to anyone—"
"A wife can't be forced to testify against her husband," Damian said simply. "It's the cleanest way to guarantee your silence without ending your life. Be grateful I'm offering you the second option."
The door shut behind him before she could say anything else, and a moment later she heard the lock turn from the outside.
Elena stood frozen in the middle of the unfamiliar room, staring at the door, waiting for someone to tell her this was a mistake, that none of it was real.
No one came.
- Writer
