The silence that followed Lucian's departure was deafening.
The heavy clang of the metal door still echoed in the vast, empty warehouse, and Caliste stared at it as if her eyes could burn a hole through it — as if she could somehow will him to come back.
But he didn't.
The footsteps that once brought her comfort were gone, swallowed by the night. All that remained was the faint hum of the cold wind slipping through the cracks and the suffocating weight of her own heartbeat.
Her throat constricted.
Her mind replayed his words again and again — She has nothing to do with me.
Each time, they stabbed deeper.
Each time, she felt another piece of herself crumble.
She had endured betrayal, humiliation, heartbreak before… but nothing like this.
This — being told she was nothing to the man she loved — tore through her like a blade of ice.
Her body trembled as she struggled against the ropes. The coarse fiber dug into her wrists, but she barely felt the pain. Her tears blurred her vision until the world became a mess of shadows and sorrow.
"Lucian…" she whispered again, voice shaking. "You promised…"
The kidnappers exchanged uncertain glances. The confidence they held earlier began to fade as they realized their leverage might be worthless.
One of them scoffed and muttered, "Guess the bastard wasn't lying. She's not worth a dime to him."
Caliste flinched — the words slicing through her one after another.
Not worth a dime.
Not worth saving.
Her chest constricted painfully, and she felt something inside her — something she'd been holding together for years — finally break.
She let out a soft, broken sob. It was small at first, just a quiver of breath. But then it grew, raw and helpless. She bowed her head, her shoulders shaking violently as tears poured from her eyes.
All the strength she'd clung to for so long — to walk away from him, to pretend she'd moved on, to endure his indifference — dissolved into nothing.
Every moment she tried to suppress came rushing back:
His arms around her that night, his voice whispering her name, the warmth that made her feel alive — all now tainted by the reality that he could walk away so easily.
One of the kidnappers cursed and walked away, muttering something about calling the boss. The other leaned against a wall, clearly unnerved by her crying.
Caliste didn't care.
For the first time in years, she didn't hide the pain.
Her tears fell for everything she had lost — for the man who abandoned her, the love that destroyed her, and the child in her womb who might grow up never knowing his father.
Her voice trembled, breaking the silence.
"I tried," she whispered to herself. "I tried to let you go, Lucian… but why does it still hurt like this?"
Her chest rose and fell unevenly. Her breathing turned shallow.
The emotional strain, the exhaustion, and the shock began to take their toll. Her head spun, and black dots danced at the edges of her vision.
She tried to hold on, to stay conscious, but the darkness was stronger.
"Lucian…" she breathed one last time — a whisper of love and pain mingled into one.
Then her world went dark.
----
The night was unusually still, but Caelum's heart raced like thunder.
He had been restless since sunset ... an uneasy feeling gnawing at his gut. He tried to ignore it at first, thinking it was just exhaustion from work, but when Elias called him in secret, his blood ran cold.
> "Miss Winslow… she's been taken."
That was all it took.
Caelum didn't think.
Didn't ask how.
Didn't wait for backup.
He was already behind the wheel, the car roaring through the rain-slicked streets toward the old warehouse district. Every red light blurred past him; every second felt like a year. His jaw was tight, his hands clenched the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.
"Hang on, Caliste," he muttered through gritted teeth. "Please, hang on."
When he arrived, the place was half-abandoned, lights flickering from one corner. He parked without turning off the engine and slipped through the shadows with the precision of a predator. His senses were sharp, his rage barely contained.
Two men stood guard at the entrance ... rough, careless.
They didn't even see him coming.
A swift, silent blow sent one crashing to the ground. The other reached for his gun but Caelum was faster ...his punch landed with a sickening crack, and the man collapsed beside his companion.
Caelum kicked the door open.
The dim light revealed the chaos inside ...crates scattered, ropes, and a faint sound of someone breathing weakly.
Then he saw her.
Caliste sat slumped in a chair, her head bowed, wrists bruised from the ropes that bound her. Her hair fell messily around her pale face, and her clothes were wrinkled and dusty. For a terrifying moment, she looked lifeless.
"Caliste…" His voice cracked.
He rushed to her, dropping to his knees.
He touched her face, cold against his fingers. "Caliste, can you hear me? It's me...Caelum."
No answer.
His heart clenched. Panic clawed its way through his chest.
He quickly untied the ropes, careful not to hurt her wrists, and lifted her into his arms.
She was light. Too light.
He could feel the faint, fragile pulse at her neck.
"God…" he whispered, eyes burning. "What did they do to you?"
Without another second, he stormed out of the warehouse, carrying her as if she were made of glass. The rain had begun to fall harder, soaking them both as he placed her gently in his car. He tore through the streets again ...this time toward the hospital, praying she would stay alive long enough to make it there.
---
"Emergency! She's unconscious — she's pregnant, please hurry!"
Caelum's voice filled the corridor as he rushed inside, his clothes drenched, his hair dripping.
The nurses immediately moved, taking Caliste from his arms. He followed, refusing to leave her side until they pushed him out of the room. He watched through the small glass window, fists trembling, as doctors and nurses worked around her.
Minutes turned to hours.
Every second was agony.
When the door finally opened, the doctor came out, exhausted but calm. "She's stable now," he said. "Severe emotional shock, exhaustion, and dehydration ... but she'll recover. The baby is safe too."
Caelum's knees nearly gave out in relief. He pressed a hand to his face, dragging it down slowly as he exhaled.
"Thank God," he whispered.