No Escape From You

CHAPTER 3 — THE AFTERMATH

Damien sat in the back of the car, the city unfolding around him through the tinted windows. Eyes fixed on the road ahead, scanning the streets as if the city itself could answer his questions. The accident earlier was more than a tragedy. He had known, for weeks, that he was being tracked. His movements were monitored. Trackers, silent eyes everywhere. Normally, they would have followed him, traced him, anticipated him.

But that day… something had changed. His plans had shifted, routines altered. And suddenly, someone else had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And it had been his fiancée—Olivia Hawthorne. Not someone he loved. Not someone he held close. But she had been connected to him, part of the circle they were trying to reach.

The soft vibration of his phone on the seat beside him drew his attention. A news alert. He didn’t reach for it immediately. He didn’t need to. The words would be the same.

“…a tragic car accident at the downtown intersection. Two confirmed dead: Miss Olivia Hawthorne and the driver. The vehicle was struck by another car, which fled the scene. Authorities are investigating the circumstances surrounding the crash. No further details have been released at this time.”

Damien’s jaw tightened. Miss Olivia Hawthorne. Dead. And the person responsible had gone too far.

It wasn’t about love. It wasn’t about grief. It was about principle. Someone had targeted his people, and they had miscalculated.

Whoever orchestrated this believed they could reach him by striking around him, by using the city, chaos, and coincidence as their weapons. They were wrong.

A wave of cold anger rolled through him. This wasn’t just an accident, and he was the target—but they got the wrong person, and he would make sure the people behind this paid for crossing that line.

“Find them,” he muttered under his breath, voice low and sharp. Cold. Precise. No panic. Only calculation. A plan forming in the quiet hum of the surrounding city. They had underestimated him. They had assumed he would remain in the shadows while their hand struck. They were wrong.

Ariana eased the truck onto a side street, parked it haphazardly, and slipped out. She didn’t look back. Her hands were still trembling as she walked home. By the time she reached her building, her legs ached, and a cold knot of fear settled in her stomach.

Ariana pushed the door open and slipped inside. The smell of stale coffee and old smoke clung to the walls. Her father, Richard, didn’t even glance up from the TV, muttering something under his breath at the screen.

“Where have you been?” he barked without looking at her. “Late again, I bet.”

“Just… out,” Ariana mumbled, keeping her voice low.

Jason’s head barely lifted from his phone, thumbs flying across the screen.

Evelyn, busy with God knows what, barely acknowledged her. “Hurry up and get ready for dinner,” she said without looking, as if Ariana’s presence was a minor inconvenience.

Ariana didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. She moved past them all, silent, toward the living room.

The TV flickered. The news anchor’s calm, precise voice cut through the quiet, but it felt unreal, like she was watching someone else’s life.

“…tragic accident at the downtown intersection. Two confirmed dead: the driver of the vehicle, and Miss Olivia Hawthorne. Authorities are investigating, but early reports indicate a hit-and-run. Miss Hawthorne is known as the fiancée of Damien Corven, one of the most powerful men in the city...”

Richard snorted without emotion. “Rich girl, rich life, gone. Good riddance.”

Jason didn’t even look up. “Who cares?”

Evelyn hummed, “Hm. Sad, I guess.” She didn’t glance at Ariana.

Ariana froze. Her heart pounded. The names, the images, the headlines….everything clawed at her. Her hands trembled slightly as she pressed them against her thighs.

She wanted to scream, to cry, to beg someone to understand. But no one would. They never cared.

The words on the screen echoed in her mind: Victoria Hawthorne… hit-and-run… fiancée of Damien Sterling… dead.

Ariana’s stomach twisted. Her chest felt tight. She had done it. She had caused this.

Her family carried on around her. Richard’s muttering at the TV, Jason’s rapid clicking, Evelyn’s soft hum. Not one of them noticed, not one of them cared.

She sank onto the couch, staring at the flickering images, knowing there was nothing she could do to turn back time. The storm was coming, and she was alone in facing it.