Damaged Love

Chapter Three

Elare couldn’t sleep. Every time she shut her eyes, the memory of the nightmare clawed its way back. Her stepfather’s voice, the coldness of the straps, the sound of his laughter—it was all too real. She wasn't ready to face that part of her past again, not now, not while she was still trapped in the aftermath of everything that had just happened.

She kept her eyes open, staring across the dark room at the other girls. Even in their sleep, their faces were twisted with sorrow. Pain lived in their expressions. Whatever they had been through, it went beyond what Elare had seen—and what she had witnessed was already enough to haunt her forever.

As the pitch-black of the night slowly gave way to a pale grey morning, she sat still, trying to steady her breath. Her stomach turned at the sight of the hamburger in her cage, and she quietly pushed it through the bars toward the girls' cage. But they didn’t stir. Exhaustion had dragged them into a deep, lifeless sleep.

She had spent the night thinking—planning. Her only shot at survival was escaping, and the bookshelves might be her way out. But she couldn’t act recklessly. If Adam came in and noticed anything was out of place—if he realized she had touched the padlocks—he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.

Quietly, she opened her cage and locked it back just as it was. She tiptoed to the hidden door by the bookshelves and pressed her ear against the surface, listening for any sign of movement. A moment passed. Then another.

Then—footsteps. Heavy, confident. He was coming.

Elare backed away and hid behind a stack of wooden crates. The door creaked open. Adam stepped in, unaware that anything was wrong, heading straight for the cages.

In that instant, Elare sprinted. Her heart pounded so loudly she thought it would give her away, but she didn’t stop. She reached the door, yanked it open, and slammed it shut behind her. She didn’t look back.

She had escaped.

Still barefoot and dressed in torn clothes, she ran without direction. The air outside hit her like a slap. Freedom—it didn’t feel real yet. People on the street glanced at her with confusion and suspicion. Her disheveled appearance, the bruises, the wild look in her eyes—they thought she was mentally ill.

But she didn’t care.

Her legs gave out, and she started walking, stumbling with each step. And then, like a lighthouse in the fog, she saw the school up ahead. Police cars. Uniforms. The sight of them made her legs weak with relief, and she collapsed.

“There she is!” a familiar voice called.

It was Mrs. Campbell—her boss. She ran to Elare as the officers followed, their faces tightening at the sight of her battered state. Mrs. Campbell had alerted the police earlier that morning when she hadn’t heard from Elare after receiving that last terrifying video clip. She knew something was wrong.

As Elare was gently revived, her body trembled. The moment she opened her eyes and saw her boss, she broke down. All the pain she had held back came crashing down at once. Mrs. Campbell pulled her close, cradling her head in her lap, rocking her gently.

“You’re safe now,” she whispered, but Elare couldn’t stop crying.

Police officers began asking questions. “Can you take us there?” one of them asked softly.

Elare shook her head, her fear returning like a cold wind. She didn't want to go back. Her lips trembled. Just the thought of seeing that room again—the blood, the girl’s lifeless eyes—it made her stomach twist. She turned her head and vomited.

The officers exchanged looks, not of impatience but of heavy sympathy. They knew they were dealing with something much darker than they had imagined.

Then, a familiar voice cut through the haze. “Babes?”

It was Victoria.

She looked different—barefaced, no makeup, no expensive perfume. She looked worried, broken even. She rushed to Elare, falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around her tightly.

“I came back the moment I heard,” she said, voice shaking. “Was it Adam?”

Elare hesitated but then nodded, and Victoria’s body went stiff. Her sweet, charming boyfriend—the one who once held her hand and promised her the world—was a monster. The truth hit her like a wave.

They drove straight to Adam’s house. With Elare and Victoria guiding them, the officers stormed the hidden door. The sight inside made them freeze. The cages. The blood. The girls. Four of them still alive, but barely holding on.

“Secure the area now!” the inspector barked into his satellite phone. As they began evacuating the girls, Elare’s mind faded again.

She saw her mother.

She was in the kitchen, smiling, preparing tea. Elare sat at the table, watching her, waiting. But instead of handing her the cup, her mother turned and gave it to someone behind her.

She turned. It was her stepfather.

He grinned.

She screamed herself awake.

Gasping, sweating, Elare sat up in a hospital bed. Her chest heaved. Then she saw Victoria, curled up beside her, asleep in the chair. Her heart eased slightly. Moments later, Mrs. Campbell entered.

“Hey, hey… easy now,” she said gently, rushing to her side. She held her hand and gave her a look full of guilt and worry.

“I’m so sorry for pushing you for that exclusive,” she whispered.

Elare could tell she meant it. She had blamed herself for everything. Elare blinked back tears—not from her boss’s apology, but from the memory of what she’d lost. She had given her heart to a man… and that man turned out to be a monster.

Mrs. Campbell leaned in to wipe her tears. “I can’t imagine how hard this must be,” she said. “Especially considering your relationship with…” But even she couldn’t finish the sentence.

Elare broke down again. Her sobs woke Victoria, who immediately wrapped her arms around her. “Babes, don’t do this to yourself. Please.”

Just then, the doctor walked in, checked her vitals, and gave a tired but kind smile. “She’s fine,” he said. “She’ll be ready for discharge soon.”

A gentle knock on the hospital room door broke the quiet moment. Elare turned her head slowly as it opened, revealing a police officer entering, followed by a man in a casual black tee and light blue jeans. His hair was neatly brushed back, and though his look was laid-back, the way he carried himself commanded attention. He had an AirPod in one ear and carried a paper bag—takeout food. The man glanced toward Elare with a composed, intense gaze that held something unreadable.

Victoria, who had been sitting by Elare’s bedside, stood up at once. “Damien,” she said, her voice softer than usual. She approached him quickly, embracing him briefly.

That name struck a chord. Elare recognized him. Damien—the chairman of T&D Group. She’d once covered his inauguration for the network two years ago. He had been charismatic then, surrounded by power and attention. Now he was standing in her hospital room like a shadow from another world.

The police officer cleared his throat, bringing the focus back. “Miss Elare,” he began, stepping closer to her bed. “We’re still actively searching for Mr. Adams. We’ve alerted all borders and airports. Our surveillance team has his information. He’s still within the country—we’re sure of it.”

Elare’s heart sank. Just the thought of Adam still being out there, breathing the same air, sent a fresh wave of dread through her. She curled her fingers into the bedsheet, willing her breath to steady.

Victoria moved beside her again, sensing the unease. She gently squeezed Elare’s hand. “You’re not going back home yet,” she said firmly.

Elare looked at her, eyebrows drawing together. “But you’re hardly around,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with exhaustion and fear.

“I am now,” Victoria said. “Starting now, I’m not leaving you. You need rest, and you need to feel safe. And we both need a break after everything. Remember that vacation I mentioned? We’re going together. No arguments.”

Before Elare could respond, the police officer added, “She’s right. For your safety, it’s best you don’t go home until we have him in custody.”

Victoria gave the officer a determined nod. “She’ll come with me. I’ll keep her close. I won’t let her be alone.”

Damien, who had remained quiet throughout, stepped forward and handed Victoria the bag of food. “I thought you might not have eaten,” he said, his voice low, calm, and smooth like silk over glass. His eyes flicked to Elare. “I heard what happened. I’m... sorry.”

The sincerity in his tone made Elare glance up. She didn’t know why, but something in his presence dulled her panic slightly. Not erased it—but muted it for a moment. Maybe it was his composure. Maybe it was the contrast between him and the monster she had barely escaped.

His phone buzzed, and he stepped aside to answer it, speaking briefly in short, clipped words. “Yes… No, I can’t right now. An emergency. I’ll follow up later.”

He returned with purpose in his stride. “I’m going to speak with the officer in charge. You two will need escort detail as long as you're in town. It’s non-negotiable.” He glanced at Victoria. “Make sure she doesn’t leave the hospital without one.”

Then without another word, Damien turned and exited the room, leaving behind a strange warmth in his absence.

Elare sank back onto her pillow, watching the sunlight spread lazily across the tiles. Damien’s visit, Victoria’s comfort, the officer’s firm assurance—it was all so much to process. But for the first time in days, she didn’t feel completely alone.

Victoria sat down again and reached for her phone, likely organizing the arrangements for Elare’s transfer. The soft hum of hospital monitors and the muted footsteps outside the room made the space feel alive again. A small part of her dared to hope.

Not just to survive.

But to heal.

To start over.