Chapter 4

"We've arrived, Mrs. Dalton," the guard said, holding the car door open.

Elena jolted back to reality, her head lifting from where it had rested against the car window. The familiarity of her surroundings slowly registered. She unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out. The early morning chill hit her the moment she stepped outside, spreading goosebumps across her skin.

Elena's hand flew to her arms, rubbing them to bring warmth to her body.

"He asked me to give you this," the guard said, holding out a jacket. "He'll be done soon."

Elena's eyes trailed from the leather jacket the guard held to Lucien leaning against his car, engaged in a phone call. Even in the darkness, she couldn't fail to notice how striking he looked. He suddenly turned in her direction, and she quickly looked away.

"I don't need the jacket. I'm going inside," she said, turning to walk away.

"No, ma'am. The instruction was that you wait till he's through with his call."

"What do you mean? I can't go into my own home because your boss is on a call?" Elena flared, visibly irritated.

"Sorry, ma'am. I'm just following orders."

"What the hell? You know what, I'm going to talk to that boss of yours," she said, walking towards Lucien.

"No, you can't, ma'am. He's on a business call." The guard blocked her path.

Elena ignored him, pushing past. He grabbed her wrist, stopping her from moving any further.

"Let go of me," she yelled, trying to wriggle free, but he was far too strong. "You're hurting me."

"Release her."

The voice came from behind her.

"Yes, boss," the man said, releasing her hand immediately.

Elena turned to see Lucien standing behind her. Her brows drew together. He had been leaning against his car seconds ago, and now he stood behind her. She hadn't seen him moving.

"Why aren't you wearing the jacket?" he demanded, tucking his hands into his pockets.

"Did you ask your body guard to stop me from entering into my own home?" she fired back, ignoring his question.

He remained silent for a few seconds, eyes assessing her. "Yes, I did." A small smile appeared on his lips. 

Her jaw clenched. Outwardly admitting his power abuse. No apology. She would have to tolerate for three months.

She turned, walking away. Her heels crunched against the gravel as she strode toward the cream-colored, double-deck house. Lucien followed behind, his pace unhurried, his gaze sweeping lazily across the property.

The white porch lights flicked on as she approached, dispelling the darkness. Elena slid open the security lock, her fingers dancing quickly over the keypad. The door beeped and unlatched. She slipped through, almost managing to slam it behind her, until Lucien's strong arm stopped it.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, startled.

"Coming in, of course." His brow lifted as he stepped inside.

His eyes wandered over the cozy living space. "Nice place," he said, lounging on the sofa as though he owned it. "Though I have to ask, why an Airbnb? Your husband's rich enough to buy you a house after the divorce."

Elena winced. The question hit deep. Jason's condition for signing the divorce papers had been simple. No alimony, no property, nothing. And like a fool, she had agreed.

"It's none of your business," she answered tightly. "Make yourself comfortable." She turned and headed for the stairs.

"Sure," Lucien replied, his deep voice following her. "Don't keep me waiting too long."

Elena froze mid-step. She knew a warning when she heard one. But she wouldn't turn around and let him see her tremble. She resumed walking, each step heavier than the last.

Inside her room, she shut the door behind her and slumped to the floor, her back pressed against it, breathing hard.

Was it really worth it? Selling off her freedom to find her long-lost sister.

Jason wasn't to be trusted. She had been married to him for the past four years and knew his long history of lying at the slightest inconvenience. But this time he had evidence, a picture of her sister working as a waitress at a fast-food restaurant.

Tears rolled down Elena's cheeks. She still looked the same. Same light brown curly hair and doe eyes she remembered from their childhood at the orphanage. 

Her sobs turned soundless. Her throat burned. When the tears finally stopped, her chest felt lighter.

She got up and kicked off her heels and hurried to the cupboard. The small alarm clock on it blinked at 4:00 a.m. She slid the drawers open, rummaging through them.

Her heart lifted when her fingers brushed against a familiar object. Her old phone. Relief washed through her as she powered it on, chewing nervously on her fingertip while silently praying for the screen to light up.

The phone finally came alive, its severely cracked screen making it difficult to input the password. With much effort, she managed to unlock it, scrolling straight to her contact list.

Elena's hand stopped at Jason's name. She drew in a deep breath before tapping on it.

A beep. 

"The number you're calling doesn't exist."

Silence filled the room.

Her stomach dropped. She swallowed hard, pushing aside the panic, and tried again. Same result.

This was bad.

Who else could she reach?

Yes. Mariah. The cleaner. She scrolled through her contacts again, only to remember, Mariah's number wasn't on this phone. This was the phone she had used before she married Jason. A sigh escaped her lips.

Then she remembered. The house phone.

She quickly input and dialed the number. After three rings, someone answered it.

"Hello, this is Jason Dalton's residence. How may I help you?" a woman's voice said.

"Hi, Mariah. It's me, Elena."

"Mrs. Dalton? Thank God! I've been trying to reach you for hours," Mariah said, sighing in relief.

"What's going on? Is Jason home?"

"Mrs. Dalton... I think he's lost it. When are you coming back from your vacation?"

Elena froze. Vacation. That was the story Jason had told the staff. None of them knew she had left for good.

"Soon, Mariah," she lied.

"Soon? There's a big problem, ma'am. Mr. Dalton came home out of nowhere. He paid everyone off, told us to vacate the house by tomorrow morning. He also said the property was sold."

"What?" Elena's voice cracked. "Is he home now?"

"No. He packed his bags and left. Are you aware of any of this?"

Her hand balled into a fist. Her doubts were right.

"Mariah, I'll call you back," she managed to breathe out. "Please text your personal number to me."

"Okay, ma'am."

The phone slipped from Elena's trembling hands. She had been a fool. This hadn't been sudden. Her mind flashed to a week ago, the phone call. The first time Jason had reached out since the divorce.

"Hey, Elena," his soft voice had called.

"Jason? What's going on?"

"I'm sorry to call you at this time of day," he apologized quickly. "But I need your help."

"With what?" she had asked warily.

"I've got a big client, a contract I need to secure. He invited me to an event and specifically asked me to bring my wife along."

"You do remember we're divorced, right?"

"I know. But it's not public yet."

"Because you wanted it that way. How long do you plan to keep deceiving everyone, Jason? You're still posting our old pictures like we're together."

"I'll make it public soon. I just need this deal first. Please, Elena, help me this one last time."

It all makes sense.

The event.

The insistence she attends.

The divorce kept secret.

It was his scheme all along. He had offered her up to Mr. Black as payment, his debt settled with her life.

Well, not anymore. She was done being Jason's shield. Mr. Black could end his life for all she cared. She was leaving this hell before it consumed her.