We climbed into the back seat of Uncle Alan's car. The moment the door slammed shut, the engine roared to life, and he pulled away from the curb without hesitation, cutting through a side exit of City Hall instead of the main entrance.
My brows scrunched. "Uncle—"
"Victoria mapped the route off the City Hall," he said curtly, eyes fixed on the road as he took a sharp turn. "Don't worry about it."
The city blurred past the windows, lights streaking into one another.
"Gratitude," Marcus said from beside me, his voice low but sincere as he leaned forward slightly, tapping the back of Uncle Alan's seat. "You place yourself at risk for us. That is not a debt I take lightly."
Uncle Alan's lips quirked, his gaze flicking briefly to us through the rearview mirror.
"There are things you don't know about Garrick's family," he said. "They're not just powerful."
A beat.
"They have ties to you, Marcus. Blood ties."
The words settled heavily in the car.
"They've been waiting for you."
Marcus went still beside me.
"I have no quarrel with them," he said, his voice quieter now, but no less firm.
Uncle Alan looked like he was about to say more, but then his gaze shifted past us.
I followed it.
Victoria stood by the back entrance, a few security guards sprawled unconscious at her feet, still dressed in her blue gown as if she had simply steeped out of the gala for air.
The moment she spotted us, she sheathed her dagger in the strap around her thigh before gathering her skirts and ran toward us.
Uncle Alan slowed the car without hesitation and leaned over to push the door open just as she slipped into the car with practiced ease, then pulled the door shut behind her.
"And here I thought you'd lost them, Dr.Cheung," she said lightly, catching her breath.
"Nonsense," he scoffed, already pulling back onto the road. The streets ahead were eerily empty. "Marcus is not easily missed. And I had no doubt he would have Elena with him soon enough."
The car surged forward, putting distance between us and City Hall.
"I'm...surprised you came for me," I said, my voice quieter now, my thoughts still tangled in the aftermath. The gun. The shot. Garrick. "You didn't have to. Garrick wouldn't have had anything on me, but—"
Marcus's hand closed around mine, firm enough to stop me.
Ground me.
"Do not apologize, Elena," Uncle Alan said, his tone softening as he kept his eyes on the road. "I've known you since you were little, you're my daughter's best friend. Of course I'd come for you."
A pause.
"Especially from that vile man," he added with a scoff. "Though I still cannot understand how you ever dated him."
"He was...different then," I said quietly, exhaling. "I didn't know any better."
"So," Victoria said, turning in her seat to face Marcus, her blue eyes studying him closely, "are you alright? I'm certain I heard a gunshot earlier."
"Gratitude for your concern, Victoria," Marcus replied, his tone clipped but controlled. "But I am unharmed."
Her gaze then dropped to our hands questioningly. I could feel it immediately. Before I could think too much of it, I slipped my hand from his. Marcus's jaw tightened, but he thankfully said nothing.
"Well then," Victoria continued, as if she hadn't noticed a thing, her tone light, "I'm glad you're alright. We're heading to Holy Island, by the way. Dr. Cheung has a cottage there."
"It's secluded," Uncle Alan added from the front, his eyes flicking briefly to us through the rearview mirror. "You'll understand why I chose it. Newcastle is no longer safe for us."
It was dark by the time we pulled up to Uncle Alan's cottage by the lake. Fatigue had settled deep into my bones, heavy and unrelenting. All I wanted was a hot shower, a bed and sweet oblivion for a few hours.
But the moment we stepped out of the car, the wind cut through me. I tucked my hair behind my ear, shivering slightly as Uncle Alan moved ahead to unlock the door.
Before I could brush it off, Marcus was already beside me.
He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders without a word.
The warmth hit me instantly.
I stilled.
Victoria noticed, of course she did. But she said nothing, already wrapped in her own coat.
"I shall speak with Uncle Alan," Marcus said, reaching into his jacket and retrieving the gun. He held it out, studying it briefly. "There are matters regarding this that must be addressed."
Victoria and I exchanged a glance.
"That's a firearm, Marcus," she said carefully. "I would hope it's no longer loaded."
He glanced at it again, then back at her, unfazed.
"I am no stranger to weapons," he said simply.
Marcus didn't wait for a response.
He turned and walked toward Uncle Alan, who had just pushed the door open. The two of them pause by the threshold, their voices dropping low as Marcus showed him the gun.
Uncle Alan's brows drew together, his expression tightening as he examined it, the two of them speaking in quiet, urgent tones I couldn't quite make out. The door remained half-open, warm light spilling out into the cold night.
I stayed where I was, and so did Victoria.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
"I'm sorry."
I turned to her, caught off guard.
Her gaze was steady, softer than I expected. She held it there for a second before continuing, "For that day, in the ruins. For letting you out of my sight."
A small frown tugged at my brows. "It's not your fault," I said, though the words felt weak even as I spoke them.
"It is," she replied gently, though there was no hesitation in her voice. "I should have been more careful. Garrick is not a man to underestimate."
Silence settled between us again, heavier this time.
Her eyes drifted past me, toward Marcus.
Something shifted in her expression. Something quieter, more thoughtful. "I can tell," she said slowly, "that Marcus holds a certain regard for you."
My chest tightened at that, but I said nothing.
Her gaze returned to mine, the blues in her eyes clearer now. Sharper.
"But it will not stop me."
The words were calm. Measured. Not cruel, nor unkind. Just certain.
"He is a man of my world," she continued. "I'm the only one who could truly understand him. And one who understands me. I have lived long enough in this one to know what I want now. A partner."
Something twisted uncomfortably in my chest.
I forced myself to meet her gaze. "Then you should take it up with him," I said quietly. "Not me."
Her lips curved, faint but unwavering. "Oh, I intend to."
Behind her, Marcus shifted, his voice carrying faintly as his conversation with Uncle Alan came to an end. Victoria glanced over her shoulder for a brief moment, flashing him a smile before turning back to me.
"This is not over, Elena," she said softly.
And somehow, I believed her.
Especially when she moved, turning around and walking straight to where Marcus stood.
Uncle Alan lingered by the door, his gaze flicking briefly toward me, something apologetic settling in his expression before he stepped aside to let her through.
While I just stood there, watching.