Chapter 11: "Burned First"
357 Words
The penthouse was quiet. Too quiet.
Eliana leaned against the marble counter in Damien’s kitchen, a glass of water trembling slightly in her hand. The adrenaline from the boardroom had finally worn off, and now her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
Damien noticed immediately. He crossed the room in three strides and took the glass from her, setting it down. “You’re safe now, Eliana. That’s an order, not a suggestion.”
She let out a shaky laugh. “You can’t order safety, Damien.”
He cupped her face, thumb brushing over her cheekbone. “I can try.” His voice was lower now, no longer the lethal CEO from the boardroom. Just him. “I meant what I said in there. I believe you. Always.”
For a second, Eliana believed him completely.
Then her phone buzzed.
She glanced at the screen and froze.
**Unknown Number: “If you really trust him, ask him about the Geneva account.”**
Damien caught the way her expression changed. “What is it?”
Eliana swallowed and showed him the message. His jaw locked instantly.
“Geneva account?” she whispered. “Damien… you have a Geneva account?”
His eyes darkened. “Yes. But it’s not what you think.”
Before he could explain, the penthouse door lock clicked — a sound that should be impossible. Damien moved fast, putting himself between Eliana and the door as it slid open.
Rachelle walked in like she owned the place, holding a tablet. Behind her were two security guards with their hands raised in surrender. “Relax,” Rachelle said smoothly. “I told them Mr. Vance wanted a surprise meeting. They believed me.”
Damien’s expression turned to stone. “You’re trespassing, Rachelle.”
Rachelle held up the tablet. “Not if I’m bringing you evidence that your perfect wife isn’t so innocent.”
Eliana’s stomach dropped. “What are you talking about?” Rachelle swiped the screen and turned it toward them. It was security footage. Eliana recognized it instantly — the Vance Corp parking garage, two days ago. She was there, at 2AM, handing a brown envelope.
- Writer
