LOGINElena
"I said get in, Elena," the voice repeated, sharp and unyielding over the heavy drum of the rain.
I stood completely frozen under the shelter’s metal roof, my wet duffel bag clutched tightly against my ribs. The bright headlights cut straight through the darkness, blinding me as the driver leaned across the console to push the passenger door open. Warm, dry air rushed out into the freezing night, carrying the scent of rich leather, expensive cologne, and cold rain.
It was Aeron Blackwood.
My heart slammed violently against my ribs, so hard I thought it would shatter. Of all the people in this massive city, of all the dark shadows that could have pulled up to this empty bus stop, it had to be him. The powerful, ruthless man who had taken my innocence in that dark hotel room just weeks ago. The man who was supposed to marry my sister Isabella in a matter of months.
"I... I can't," I stammered, my voice breaking into a fragile whisper against the noise of the storm. My boots felt rooted to the concrete, and my knees trembled so badly I could barely keep my balance.
Aeron shifted in his seat, leaning into the faint yellow glow of the dashboard light. His dark hair was slightly damp from the rain, his sharp jawline set in a hard, dangerous line. His silver-gray eyes locked onto mine, burning through the shadows with an intensity that made my throat go completely dry.
"You can, and you will," he said, his tone leaving absolutely no room for argument. "Your father's security team is already sweeping the main estate roads. If you stay out here for another five minutes, they will find you, throw you into the back of a van, and take you right back to that house."
A cold bolt of terror shot down my spine. He was right. My father was not a man to let anything slip out of his control, especially not when his family's reputation and multi-million dollar business deals were on the line. If his men caught me out here on the open road, there would be no second chances. There would be no open window to jump from next time.
"How did you... why are you here?" I asked, my blood running cold as I took a small step backward into the shadows of the shelter. "Did my mother call you?"
A dark, bitter smile touched the corner of his lips. "Your mother is currently trying to hide the fact that her youngest daughter managed to escape from a locked bedroom. She hasn't called anyone yet because she's terrified of making a scene, but she will soon enough. Now get inside before I come out there and carry you in myself."
I looked down at my hands. The blood from the rough tree bark had dried into dark, ugly crusts across my raw palms. My coat was soaked through, heavy like lead, and freezing cold against my skin. I had less than fifty dollars shoved in my bag, no roof over my head, and a fragile new life growing inside me that I would die to protect.
I didn't trust Aeron. He was a dangerous, imposing figure who belonged to a high-society world that had only ever brought me pain and neglect. But right now, as the rain poured down in sheets, he was the only wall standing between my baby and my father's cruel hands.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I forced my shaky legs to move. I stepped out from under the roof, rushed through the heavy downpour, and slid into the leather passenger seat. I pulled my dripping bag into my lap and slammed the heavy door shut.
The loud thud of the door instantly cut off the roar of the storm. The sudden warmth inside the luxury car hit my freezing skin, making me shiver violently from head to toe.
Aeron didn't say a single word. He pressed his foot on the gas, and the powerful car pulled away from the curb smoothly, merging into the dark, empty avenue. He drove with one hand resting easily on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the wet road ahead.
I pressed myself as far into the passenger door as I could, wrapping my arms tightly around my duffel bag like a shield. "Where are you taking me?"
"Somewhere safe," he replied smoothly, his gray eyes flashing brief and sharp in the rearview mirror. "For now."
"I can't go to your house," I said quickly, the panic rising in my chest again. "If Isabella finds out—"
"Isabella doesn't know a thing," he cut in, his voice flat, steady, and icy cold. "And you are in no position to be making demands tonight, Elena. Look at yourself. You're bleeding, you're freezing, and you can barely hold your head up straight."
I bit my lower lip hard, casting my eyes down to my lap to avoid his gaze. The soft leather seat beneath me was getting wet from my soaked coat, but he didn't even glance at it.
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the car. The only sounds were the quiet hum of the engine and the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers pushing the heavy rain aside. Every beat of my heart felt like a terrifying countdown. Did he know? Had my mother already dropped a hint, or had he figured out why I was running away in the middle of the night? Or did he just assume I was escaping my father's usual temper?
I stole a quick, careful glance at his profile. His sharp jawline, the stern line of his mouth, the quiet power that seemed to fill the car without him even trying. He looked completely calm, yet there was a dangerous edge to his silence that made my stomach twist in knots.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked softly, unable to bear the quiet any longer. "You don't owe me anything. You're supposed to marry my sister."
Aeron pulled the car to a slow stop at a red light on the edge of the city. Slowly, deliberately, he turned his head to look at me.
His gray eyes traveled down to my raw, dirt-stained hands clutching the duffel bag, then up to my pale, tear-streaked face, and finally dropped to where my heavy coat bunched slightly over my stomach.
My breath hitched in my chest, a cold shock going through me. Automatically, my fingers tightened around the cloth bag, trying to shield my middle from his piercing eyes.
"I don't like other people touching what belongs to me," he said, his voice dropping into a low, quiet rumble that sent a deep shiver straight down my spine.
"I don't belong to you," I whispered, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound brave.
The light turned green, and Aeron stepped on the gas, turning the car down a private, tree-lined road that wound away from the main highway.
"We'll see about that, little bird," he said quietly, not looking back at me as the tall iron gates of a massive, dark estate opened smoothly before us in the rain. "We'll see."
Elena"I said get in, Elena," the voice repeated, sharp and unyielding over the heavy drum of the rain.I stood completely frozen under the shelter’s metal roof, my wet duffel bag clutched tightly against my ribs. The bright headlights cut straight through the darkness, blinding me as the driver leaned across the console to push the passenger door open. Warm, dry air rushed out into the freezing night, carrying the scent of rich leather, expensive cologne, and cold rain.It was Aeron Blackwood.My heart slammed violently against my ribs, so hard I thought it would shatter. Of all the people in this massive city, of all the dark shadows that could have pulled up to this empty bus stop, it had to be him. The powerful, ruthless man who had taken my innocence in that dark hotel room just weeks ago. The man who was supposed to marry my sister Isabella in a matter of months."I... I can't," I stammered, my voice breaking into a fragile whisper against the noise of the storm. My boots felt r
Elena"He will drag you to that clinic himself, Elena," my mother’s cold voice echoed in my head, right alongside the sharp, final click of the key turning in the lock.I jumped off the mattress and threw myself against the wooden surface. I grabbed the brass handle and shook it with all my strength, over and over, until the metal rattled against the frame."Mom! Open this door! You can't keep me in here! Please, Mom!"Only silence answered me. Then came the soft, rhythmic sound of her footfalls fading down the hallway carpet."Mom!" I screamed, slamming my open palms against the hard wood until the skin stung with a sharp, burning heat.Hot tears blurred my vision, spilling over my eyelashes and dripping down my neck. She wasn't bluffing. She was really going to tell my father. When he got home from his business dinner, he wouldn't argue with me. He wouldn't listen to my pleas or look at my tears. He would grab my arm, drag me out to the car, and force me into that doctor's office hi
ElenaMom didn't scream. Instead, she sat slowly beside me, her voice trembling. "How... how in God's name did this happen, Elena?"I choked back a sob, and with my voice breaking at every second word, I told her everything.When I finished, her hands moved slowly to cup mine. I cried harder at the warmth of her fingers. I couldn't remember the last time she'd looked at me so tenderly."Does..." She closed her eyes and swallowed. "Does he know?"I shook my head violently. "No. No, he doesn't. He probably doesn't even remember my face. It was dark, and he seemed a bit drunk and all."Mom let out a long breath, opening her eyes. Slowly, her hands dropped from mine."Then it's all good. There's no problem then."I looked up at her. "No problem?"She nodded. "All we have to do is get rid of it. No need to cause a scene."I froze, unable to believe the words that had just come out of her mouth."W... what?""You heard me," she replied, her voice disturbingly calm. "We'll go to a clinic tom
ElenaIsabella's soft sobs drew me back to reality. I blinked, my head throbbing."—she did it on purpose, Mom! You know she did!"I shifted slightly and turned my head. Two figures stood near the door. Isabella was pacing back and forth, her gown creased and ruined, tears smearing her carefully applied mascara down her flushed cheeks. Mom held her trembling hands."Isabella, calm down, please. Your father already handled it.""Handled it?" Isabella choked out, shoving Mom's hands away. "She fainted right as Aeron was kissing my hand! Everyone stopped looking at me, Mom! The photographers turned their cameras toward her! She ruined my night!""I know, darling, I know," my mother soothed. "Your father is furious. We will deal with her, I promise you. But right now, you need to go to your room and rest. Aeron’s mother called—she was very understanding, but we cannot afford to look unraveled.""I hate her," Isabella spat, her voice trembling with venom. "I hate her so much. Why does she
ElenaI blinked at her words. Fiancé?I didn't know who she was talking about, but as long as Arthur’s name was off the table and no one was trying to drag me into a room with a man who used his fists to talk, I couldn't care less."Congratulations, Isabella," I said softly. "Mom and Dad are obviously thrilled."Isabella didn't even look up from her fingernails, currently being buffed by a maid. "Thanks, Elena. It's a big deal, after all.""Yes, it is," Mom snapped. "Isabella is going to be the most powerful woman in Manhattan. If you really want to congratulate her, the best gift you can give this family is staying completely out of the way. Don't make a scene, don't throw your little tantrums, and for heaven's sake, fix your posture.""Your mother is right," my father added. "The Blackwoods are old money and ruthless. One slip-up, one pathetic rumor from your little outbursts, and this entire deal could hit a bump. Keep your mouth shut and stay in your room if you can't manage a ple
Elena"He is offering five percent of his company," my father snapped, slamming his hand hard on the table. "This is not for discussion. You're marrying him."I stared at him, trying to hold back my tears. "He’s fifty-two, Dad. He’s been divorced three times, and everyone in Manhattan knows why his last wife spent two weeks in a hospital before packing her bags.""Rumors," my mother cut in without looking up from her tablet. She was adjusting the seating chart for next week’s charity gala, her delicate fingers flicking across the glass. "Ex-wives are always bitter, darling. Besides, Arthur comes from old money. His family line is spotless.""Spotless?" I let out a harsh, dry laugh. "He hits women, Mom. He uses his money to buy off the police every time he trashes a club in the Hamptons. You’re trading me to a monster!""Shut up!" My father yelled, standing up. "A monster? You should be thanking God someone of Arthur’s standing is even asking for you! Look at yourself—no talent, no bus







