Chapter 24: The Breaking Line

Killian’s POV

She was still asleep when I opened my eyes. She was wearing one of my white shirts. Her black hair was entangled with the bedsheet and her skin glowed when kissed by the morning sun 

Her chest rose and fell softly and then a small smile crawled up to her face like a child. She seemed untouched by the chaos that usually followed her while awake.

The deep line of frustration that usually rested on her face was gone—wiped clean by sleep, by the rare peace that rarely visited people like us.

And the smile on her had grown. Maybe she was dreaming of her castle and her knight in shining armor just like the one she was always meant to live in

It had been so long since I had seen her this calm, that peace looked like a stranger on her — a sacred stranger

She had asked to stay in my room. I guess she was too scared to stay alone. The traumas had burrowed deep and not all wounded healed in seconds

And her smiles were just a mask

The air between us had shifted. Our truths had been laid bare, and while it had brought her closer, I felt her slipping already

I stood up quietly not to wake her up but my hands still brushed the little strands of her hair that had fallen to her face before I stepped out of the room to take a call

On my way out, I stopped by the bed nightstand and gave a glance at the black journal. 

That journal

The one she was never meant to know existed.

The one she wasn't supposed to read.

But she did

And she didn't run. 

I thought she would.

Instead she stayed.

It should have felt like salvation, instead it felt it was more like a countdown — to her leaving. To my downfall

Because love — real love— isn't soft. It's sharp. Urelenting and it demands surrender. 

And I wasn’t made to surrender. Not even to her.

When I returned from the call, she was gone — she was nowhere to be found within the estate.

Her phone was missing and so was she. She hadn't left a note. No message. Not even a missed call. 

I hadlet her stay. I’d given her that journal — even if by accident. I had opened the door... and still, she vanished. Thirty fuçking minutes, and she was gone.

The suite door was cracked open just enough to leave a message without a word.

I need space. Please.

Space?

But space was dangerous.

Space was what made me almost lose her. Space was what got us to the first situation we had just gotten out of.

How does she not know that? 

Space was where Julian Crest waited. Space was where the headlines lies beyond

How could she not understand that? How could she go out without letting me know? How do I find her now? She had left the door open to mock me

I clenched my jaw so hard it began to ache.

She didn't get to ask for space.

Not now.

Not when I was finally keeping her safe.

Then an unexpected call came in. It was Mel and I knew

I just knew she was aware of Emery location

I answered before the second ring. “Where is she?” without any formal greetings

There was a pause from the others side of the line and just the faint sound of traffic and her breath was all I could hear

“I’m not doing this with you again, Killian,” she said finally. Her voice was tight, a tin line between exhaustion and fury. “You lost the right to demand anything the moment you stopped listening.”

“She’s missing,” I said through my gritted teeth. “Do you understand that? Emery is missing.”

“She’s not missing,” Mel snapped “She just… left.”

“No, she didn’t.” My voice dropped, low and cutting. “She was taken.”

At least that was what I wanted to believe. I had convinced myself that she was taken, I didn't want to accept the fact that she had left

She hadn't left right? I would occasionally ask myself

That silenced her.

I could hear her pace got slower. She was walking somewhere, maybe on a sidewalk, and she was on heels that didn’t quite match her pace. Heels had never been her strong suit

Despise the fact she worked as my team member, Mel was a close friend. We had been together even before I knew my father

“You’re sure?” she asked, her voice softer but it held something more — a suppressed laughter

Mel sucked in a sharp breath.

“I need your help,” I said. “Now.”

“Do you think I wouldn’t help?” she hissed. “I have been trying to help. But helping doesn’t mean feeding her to you.”

Her words had stopped me but it was only for a second.

“She’s not safe out there, Mel. She Never had been. I had tried to shield her from the worst of it, but I…” I exhaled, pressing a palm to my forehead. “I failed. I know I failed. But if you know something—if there’s even a chance you know where she is, you have to tell me.”

“You don’t get to beg now.”

“She’s all I have.”

That came out too fast before I could push it back.

Silence fell on the line again. I could picture her standing on some busy corner, lips parted, eyes narrowed, trying to decide if this was manipulation or something closer to the truth.

“You think locking her away is love,” she said finally, her voice bittered. “But it’s not. It’s fear.”

“It’s both,” I said. “You don’t know what’s coming for her. You have seen headlines. The leaks. Have you? But that’s just the surface. This is deeper. And if I don’t find her soon, they will use her to break me.”

“Maybe they already have.”

The words hit harder than I expected. Maybe because they were true.

“She said she wanted to speak,” Mel continued, voice heavy with tension. “Said she was tired of being the pretty little mystery hanging on your arm. Tired of being silenced while the world tore her apart.”

“Mel—”

“She’s not a child, Killian.”

“She’s not ready for the wolves out there,” I ground out.

“She was never ready for you, and she still chose you,” Mel snapped. “That’s what makes this so fucked.”

That shut me up.

Not because I disagreed.

Because she was right.

Emery had chosen me—again and again, even when I didn’t deserve it. Even when all I offered her was a fake picture of safety.

I swallowed hard. “Where is she?”

“She said she would be at a press brunch. Somewhere small, private, downtown. A chance to reclaim the narrative, I guess. Take her story back. On her own terms.”

“That’s suicide,” I muttered. “They will devour her.”

“She said she would rather be devoured standing up than kept safe and silenced in your glass tower.”

Her voice cracked on the last word.

She cared about Emery. Probably more than she admitted.

“Text me the address,” I said quietly. “Please.”

A pause.

“You find her… and you better not break her again.”

The line went dead.

A second later, the address was pinged to my phone.

And I was already out the door.

I found her two hours later.

When I saw Emery standing on the steps of that private hotel ballroom, surrounded by flashes, microphones, questions, faces she couldn’t trust. And she was handling everything more than I expected, she answered the question through at her and stated some as confidential 

And there sat a woman

Not just the woman I loved.

The woman I could lose.

And I wouldn’t let that happen.

I stepped out of the car and straight into the storm.

“Emery.”

She turned.

Her eyes said everything. Exhaustion. Defiance. A fire that both drew me in and threatened to burn me alive.

“Don’t,” she said.

But I ignored her.

Pushed through the reporters like they were fog.

Took her hand in mine.

She tried to pull back.

“I said—”

“I’m not letting you do this alone.”

Her jaw clenched. “You mean you’re not letting me do it without you in control.”

I didn’t answer. Because we both knew it was true.

She stepped closer, lowered her voice. “This is suffocating, Killian. I can’t breathe when you’re around.”

My chest tightened. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“You’re trying to own me.”

I flinch.

Because she was right.

The truth had always tasted bitter in her mouth — but when she said it, it landed like a blade in my chest. 

She would always say the truth I had refused to accept

The cameras kept clicking. Someone shouted her name and then mine.

But we weren’t looking at them, our eyes where just at each other.

“You don’t trust me to stand on my own,” she whispered. “But I’m not yours to keep locked away. Not anymore.”

I didn’t speak.

Because the possessive part of me — the part forged in boardrooms and blood and betrayal — wanted to pull her into my chest and never let her out again.

But the man who loved her?

He wanted to let her fly.

Even if it killed him.

Before I could respond, a sudden crash behind us sent the crowd scattering.

Panic burst through the air.

A car screeched down the narrow street in front of the hotel. It was black, windowless, too fast.

And then—

Gunshots.

The scream escape from Emery’s throat as I shoved her down behind the press barrier, covering her with my body as chaos exploded around us.

More shots. Screams. People running. A reporter fell beside us, blood pooling beneath her.

I pulled Emery to her feet, heart slamming.

“We have to move—now!”

She didn’t argue. Just clutched my hand as we ran.

My men were already surrounding us, guns drawn, pushing us toward the exit on the side of the building.

Emery stumbled once — I caught her — and for a second, our eyes locked.

This wasn’t control.

This was war.

And I would not let her become collateral.

We made it back to the estate under lockdown.

Paramedics. Armed guards. Mel was there, shouting into her phone, coordinating press suppression.

But I didn’t hear any of it.

Not really.

Not until I found Emery pacing in the room, her hands shaking, her eyes wild.

“You need to stop this,” she said the moment she saw me.

“I just saved your life.”

“You keep saying that,” she snapped, “but it’s your world that keeps putting me in danger in the first place!”

“You think this is about me?”

“I think it’s about your obsession with control. You can’t stand that I might make a move you didn’t plan for.”

I swallowed hard.

“You want honesty?” she said, stepping closer. “I don’t trust you anymore, Killian. Not with my decisions. Not with my freedom. And maybe not even with my heart.”

That landed like a blow.

“I love you,” I said. “But I can’t protect you if you keep walking into fire.”

She stared at me, breathing hard. “Then maybe you’re the fire.”

Silence.

Then —

A crash. A window shattered.

Alarms blared.

My body moved before my mind could.

I pulled her behind me just as a smoke grenade rolled across the floor.

My men shouted — gunfire erupted.

Whoever was after us hadn’t finished what they started.

They were here.

Inside.

I grabbed Emery’s hand and ran toward the safe passage behind the bookcase.

But this time — she didn’t follow blindly.

This time, she stopped just short.

“Killian,” she gasped, choking on the smoke. “I can’t—”

“You have to.”

“I can’t trust you to take me anywhere safe!”

I turned.

Eyes locked.

And then I did something I never had before.

I dropped the gun.

I stepped away.

“Then lead,” I said hoarsely. “Choose the way out.”

And for the first time in a long time — I let her.