The photo slipped from Elena's trembling hands and landed on the floor with a soft flutter. Sophie pressed her knuckles to her lips, eyes wide with fear.
Alexander didn't flinch. He stepped forward, picked up the photo, and studied it for the briefest moment. His jaw tightened, his grip firm but controlled.
Then his voice cut through the silence, low and decisive.
"Pack a bag. Both of you. Now."
Elena looked at him, shaken. "Alexander—"
"No arguments," he said, his tone calm but brooking no refusal. He turned to Sophie. "You too. Fifteen minutes."
Sophie nodded shakily and hurried into the bedroom, leaving Elena standing in the small living room, fists clenched.
"You can't just—" she began, her voice sharp with panic.
He crossed the room in two strides, standing close enough that she had to tilt her chin up to meet his eyes. "They're watching you, Elena. They're not guessing or threatening anymore, they're here. In your life. Do you understand what that means?"
Her throat tightened. "It means I've lost control of everything."
"It means," Alexander corrected softly, "you don't have the luxury of pretending this isn't real anymore. I should never have left you here. That's on me. But I'll fix it."
The intensity in his voice silenced her protest. For the first time, Elena felt the weight of the war Alexander carried, not one fought in boardrooms or behind headlines, but in shadows, against people who didn't care about collateral damage.
He pulled out his phone, already dialing.
"Daniel, bring the car around back. We're leaving. Tight security. No stops."
The quiet authority in his tone sent a shiver down Elena's spine. He wasn't asking, wasn't negotiating. He was protecting.
Within minutes, Sophie returned with a half-zipped duffel bag, pale but composed. Elena forced herself to gather a few clothes, her hands trembling the whole time. The photo lay burned into her mind. Too late. Too late for what?
When they stepped into the hallway, Alexander walked first, his presence like a shield. Two men in dark suits stood waiting, his security detail. They moved smoothly, scanning every corner as they escorted them downstairs to the waiting black car.
Elena slid into the back seat with Sophie, her heart racing. Alexander climbed in beside her, pulling the door shut with finality.
The engine started, the city blurring past as they sped through side streets.
Sophie clutched her bag to her chest. "What if they follow us? What if—"
"They won't," Alexander said firmly. "I had the building swept. They'll find nothing but shadows."
Elena turned to him, frustration breaking through her fear. "You're acting like this is normal. Like moving me into your world fixes everything. But what if it doesn't? What if they don't stop?"
His gaze locked with hers, steady and unyielding. "Then I won't stop either."
The words were simple, but the way he said them stole her breath.
For a moment, silence filled the car, thick, and humming with something she didn't want to name.
Finally, Alexander leaned back, exhaling slowly. "I didn't want it to be this way. I wanted to ease you into it. But Adrian doesn't play fair. Neither does Vivian. So, from this moment, you're not just someone they're curious about. You're in the middle of it. Which means you don't leave my sight."
Sophie shifted uncomfortably. "And me?"
"You're under my protection too," Alexander said, not missing a beat. "Anyone close to Elena is my responsibility."
The sincerity in his tone made Sophie blink, as if she hadn't expected that level of commitment.
Elena, however, felt her chest tighten. Responsibility. That was all she was to him? Or was it something more he couldn't bring himself to admit?
The car slowed as they approached his penthouse tower, its glass exterior gleaming under the morning sun. Two more guards stood at the entrance, and as the doors opened, Elena felt like she was stepping into another world—a fortress disguised as luxury.
Alexander guided them inside with quiet efficiency. "Sophie, there's a guest room on the twenty-third floor. Elena, you'll be with me."
Elena stiffened. "With you?"
He met her gaze, calm but firm. "I can't protect you from across the building."
Her heart skipped, heat rushing to her cheeks. She wanted to argue, to draw a line, but Sophie's hand squeezed hers gently—silently urging her not to fight him on this. Not now.
Upstairs, in the vastness of Alexander's private suite, Elena felt both caged and safe, a strange contradiction that pressed down on her chest.
He set the necklace on the dresser, his voice quieter now. "This isn't the life you wanted. I know that. But it's the only way to keep you safe. You'll have everything you need. And a monthly allowance to replace your income. No strings."
Elena's laugh was bitter, hollow. "There are always strings, Alexander. I just can't see them yet."
His eyes softened—just for a second—before he turned away. "Rest. Both of you. I'll handle the rest."
And with that, he walked out, the door closing behind him.
Elena sank onto the edge of the bed, her hands gripping the sheets. Sophie leaned against the doorway, her expression pale but knowing.
"Elena…" she whispered, "I think you should let him."
But Elena couldn't shake the voice echoing in her mind.
Too late.