Elena woke to the sound of alarms screaming through the mansion.
For half a second, she thought she was dreaming. Then red lights flooded her bedroom, flashing in a steady, violent rhythm, and the air filled with the sharp echo of boots pounding down the hallway.
Her heart leapt into her throat.
She had barely pushed herself upright when the door burst open.
Victor.
He was fully dressed, his expression hard and lethal, phone already pressed to his ear as he spoke in clipped, authoritative tones.
"Lock down the east wing. Seal the perimeter. I want eyes on every corridor—now."
He ended the call and turned to her instantly.
"Get up," he ordered, his voice calm but leaving no room for hesitation. "We're moving."
"What's happening?" Elena asked, her voice shaking despite her effort to stay composed.
"An attempted breach," Victor replied, already scanning the room. "They didn't make it inside, but this wasn't random."
Her blood ran cold.
Before she could ask another question, Victor crossed the room in two strides and grabbed a thick jacket from the chair, wrapping it firmly around her shoulders.
"Stay close to me," he said. "No questions. No delays."
The hallway outside was chaos contained—armed security moving with precision, voices low but urgent, commands passing from mouth to mouth like sparks. Elena felt suddenly small in the middle of it all.
Victor placed a firm hand at her back, guiding her forward.
"This way," he said.
They moved quickly through corridors she recognized—then turned sharply into one she didn't. Victor stopped in front of what looked like an ordinary wall panel. Without hesitation, he pressed his palm against a hidden sensor.
The wall slid open silently.
Elena stared. "You never told me this was here."
"I never wanted you to need to know," he replied.
They stepped inside, and the panel sealed behind them. The passage was narrow, reinforced with steel, the air cool and humming faintly with electricity. Victor moved with absolute confidence, as if he had walked this route a thousand times.
"Victor," Elena said softly, fear creeping into her chest. "Are they after you… or me?"
He didn't slow. "Both."
The word landed heavily.
They descended a short flight of stairs and entered an underground control room filled with monitors. Live feeds flickered across the walls—security cameras showing the mansion grounds, the gates, the outer fence.
On one screen, figures retreated into the darkness beyond the property line.
"They're gone," Elena whispered.
"For now," Victor replied coldly.
He stepped forward, issuing orders rapidly. "Track the signal. Freeze outgoing communications. I want every employee vetted again by morning."
Elena watched him, stunned.
This was not the man who spoke softly in the evenings or debated control with her on balconies. This Victor was ruthless, precise, terrifyingly calm.
"This is who you really are," she said quietly.
Victor turned to her, his expression unreadable. "This is who I am when something I care about is threatened."
Her breath caught.
"Something?" she repeated.
His eyes met hers. "Someone."
Silence filled the room, heavy and electric.
"They wanted to scare you," he continued. "To remind me that visibility has consequences."
Elena wrapped her arms around herself. "I didn't think it would be this fast."
"I did," Victor said grimly. "I underestimated how bold they'd be."
She swallowed hard. "Are they going to hurt my family?"
"No," he said instantly, stepping closer. "I won't let that happen."
"You can't control everything," she whispered.
"I can control enough," he replied.
For the first time since she'd known him, Elena saw something crack in his armor—not weakness, but fear sharpened into resolve.
"This is my fault," he said quietly. "I made you public. I put a target on you."
Elena looked at the screens again, at the dark figures disappearing into the night.
"And if I say I want out?" she asked softly.
Victor didn't hesitate. "Then I erase you from this world before they ever touch you."
Her heart pounded. "Erase me?"
"New identity. New location. Total separation from me," he said. "You'd be safe."
She studied his face, searching for manipulation.
There was none.
"And if I stay?" she asked.
His jaw tightened. "Then I fight."
The simplicity of the answer stole her breath.
"I don't want to be the reason people bleed," she said.
Victor's voice dropped. "Then don't ever think you're weak. Because weak things don't survive this world."
She took a shaky breath, then stepped closer to him.
"I'm scared," she admitted.
"So am I," he said.
The confession stunned her more than the alarms.
Victor reached out, hesitating for half a second before resting his hand on her shoulder—not possessive, not commanding. Protective.
"This night changed everything," he said quietly. "From now on, nothing is theoretical."
Elena nodded slowly, understanding settling deep in her chest.
This wasn't a contract anymore.
This wasn't even romance.
This was war.
And standing beside Victor Hale meant there would be no safe distance—only choices.
Outside, the alarms finally fell silent.
But Elena knew one truth with absolute certainty:
The danger had only just begun.