2. THE SOUND OF WAR INSIDE A HEART

Riya’s POV

“Riya…”

His soft whisper slid through the dimness, faintly pressing his chest against mine, and beneath that calm exterior, I felt it — his fast and almost frantic heartbeat.

My own pulse tried to keep up, thundering in a rhythm I didn’t want to understand.

He lifted his head just enough for our eyes to meet. “I can’t let you leave this place.”

The words cut sharper.

“I can’t let you leave just yet, Riya…” His voice lowered, brushing a rough exhale against my cheek. “So just… stay with—”

A violent bang tore through the silence.

The air jumped. The walls vibrated.

Our heads snapped toward the door. Another crash followed, louder this time, the sound of metal striking against wood — then low and harsh voices, bleeding through the cracks.

Some people were on the other side.

Without thinking, I shoved him — hard. My palms slammed into his chest, and I stumbled back, hitting the cold wall behind me, forcing a wild ricocheted pulse through my ribs.

Mateo hissed under his breath, straightening, tightening every muscle in his arms as the pounding at the door grew more violent, stretching his tall shadow across the floor.

“Yes, sir. We’ve searched the entire estate, and we’re very sure she never left. That said… there’s a high chance she’s hiding here, sir.”

The sound of my husband’s men.

That voice slithered through the cracks, followed by the scrape of boots on the floorboards.

My breath hitched, and my chest pressed tight beneath my palms.

Turns out I was still in Kelvin’s house.

Perfect. Just perfect.

I rolled my eyes under my breath, trying to suppress the panic bubbling up my throat. They were close — too close.

Mateo turned away from the door. The overhead bulb flickered once, throwing half his face in light, half in shadow, and as usual, his expression stayed unreadable.

He glanced at me. About to say something, no doubt — but before he could, I raised my hand and swung it toward his face.

He caught it effortlessly, locking his fingers around my wrist midair as the sound of my gasp echoed off the walls.

“You’re a jerk, Mateo. You know that?”

Not even a blink. His grip softened, and his thumb brushed along the inside of my wrist before he slowly let go.

“How,” my voice shook between anger and disbelief, “how can you kidnap me from my husband’s house and bring me to a—” I darted my eyes around the dusty walls and the single light bulb. “—whatever this place even is! Still within my husband’s property, apparently!”

Mateo let out a slow exhale. “I told you, Riya—”

“If you’re going to kidnap someone,” I cut him off sharply, folding my arms, “at least be professional about it.”

I tilted my head, scoffing. “This is ridiculous. You don’t even look like you know what you’re doing.”

And that’s when he snapped.

Mateo’s hands shot out — closing his fingers tight around my shoulders. He spun me back to face him with such force that air rushed out of my lungs.

My breath caught. His brows knit hard, and that calm mask fractured just enough for me to see the growing tension on his face.

“We can sort out your anger issues later,” he muttered, taunting his low voice with urgency.

“My—” I raised a brow, but before I could say anything, he pressed his palm against my lips.

My eyes went slightly wide...

The roughness of his hand contrasted with the restraint in his touch. His eyes locked on mine, and that was when I heard those fast and heavy footsteps closing in. 

The door rattled violently, and the bolts groaned faintly under the pressure.

Mateo’s gaze flicked toward the noise, then back to me. 

Without a word, he turned and moved to the opposite side of the room, unlocking the wide window with a soft metallic click.

The night wind whooshed in immediately, slicing through the stale air, brushing past my skin as I felt the cold.

He leaned close behind me, with a steady breath despite the noises outside. “Once you’re out,” he whispered just above my shoulder, “I need you to run… Run as fast as you can and head toward the end of the estate's private parking lot. Behind the large truck, you’ll find what you need to get out of here.”

“What are you talking—”

“Just shut up and do as I say, Riya!” His voice snapped louder now, as frustration and something else broke through that polished calm. “I’ll hold them off as long as I can.”

“But where will I—”

“No buts.” He cut me off.

Before I could argue again, his hands were already at my waist. 

In one swift motion, he lifted me up through the window frame with an almost effortless and careless strength. 

My breath hitched as his fingers brushed against my side before pushing me forward.

“Go,” he whispered again—this time quieter.

The window slammed shut behind me before I could reply.

For a heartbeat, I just stood there, frozen in the cold night air, staring back at the faint outline of his shadow behind the glass. Then—

Crash.

The sound of fists meeting flesh. Furniture toppling. A grunt. A curse.

I flinched. The noise was brutal and raw, along with the unmistakable rhythm of violence.

My heels scraped against the gravel as I stumbled backward, and my heart continued to hammer so hard it blurred my thoughts. The sounds from inside grew louder—another crash, a choked cry, the shattering of glass.

The night wind howled through the broken stillness, carrying his voice as Mateo’s words replayed in my head, over and over. “I can’t let you leave just yet, Riya…”

But now, he was the one keeping them from reaching me.

And somehow, that terrified me more than the men chasing me.

Security shouted, and glasses tinkled. I took a deep breath, bolted through, burst across the courtyard, and into the garden, with burning lungs, hearing a drumbeat from my heart so loud it drowned the chaos.

I hugged the trunk of a broad ornamental tree and slid to a crouch behind its stone planter. 

My hands shook as I scanned the darkness for the parking lot — for any sign of escape.