NOT YOURS ANYMORE MR ASHFORD

Chapter 6 

Thousands of miles away, Nikolai sat in a conference room, half-listening to his team's presentation. His mind kept drifting to Elena, to the accusations he'd hurled at her the night before. Had he overreacted? The pain in her eyes haunted him, though he'd never admit it aloud.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Irritated by the interruption, he pulled it out, ready to silence it—until he saw Elena's name on the screen. A message with attachments.

Curiosity overcame his annoyance. He opened the message, and his blood turned to ice.

The photos showed Elena, clearly unconscious, lying in their bed with a half-naked man beside her. In one image, the man's arm was draped possessively across her body. In another, their faces were close together, as if in an intimate moment.

Beneath the photos was a message: "You were right. I'm sorry you had to find out this way."

The room around Nikolai ceased to exist. The presentation, his team, the deals worth millions—all faded to insignificance compared to the rage building inside him. The phone creaked in his grip, screen threatening to shatter.

"Mr. Ashford?" one of his executives ventured cautiously. "Is everything all right?"

"Meeting's over," Nikolai managed through clenched teeth, already rising from his chair. "Have my jet prepared. I'm returning to London immediately."

His mind was consumed by a storm of betrayal and fury as he strode from the room. He'd given Elena everything—his name, his home, his protection. And this was how she repaid him? With infidelity under his own roof?

With a fog of rage, he boarded his private jet, completely unaware that miles away, Elena was just beginning to stir, still trapped in a drugged haze, completely oblivious to the catastrophe Cassandra had orchestrated—and the storm that was now racing toward her.

The hours passed in a haze of semi-consciousness for Elena. Daylight faded into dusk, then nightfall, the drug slowly releasing its grip on her system. Still disoriented, she struggled to piece together what had happened, fragments of memory floating just beyond her grasp—Cassandra's smug smile, a stranger's face, camera flashes.

The thunderous slam of the front door jolted her fully awake. Heavy footsteps pounded up the grand staircase, each step like a hammer blow in her throbbing head.

"Elena!" Nikolai's voice roared from the hallway, rage vibrating through each syllable.

Her bedroom door burst open with such force it slammed against the wall, plaster cracking from the impact. Nikolai stood in the doorway, his powerful frame rigid with fury, face contorted into something barely recognizable. But what froze Elena's blood was the gleaming pistol clutched in his right hand.

"Nikolai," she whispered, struggling to sit up. "What are you—"

"Don't speak," he hissed, crossing the room in three long strides. "Don't you dare say a single word."

He thrust his phone in her face, the screen displaying images that made Elena's stomach lurch—herself, clearly unconscious, with a half-naked stranger beside her in their bed.

"No," she gasped, horror washing over her. "That's not—I didn't—"

The cold barrel of the gun pressed against her temple, silencing her.

"Who is he?" Nikolai demanded, his voice dangerously soft. "Where can I find him?"

Elena's whole body trembled. "I don't know him. I swear to you, Nikolai, I've never seen that man before."

He laughed, a hollow, chilling sound. "Still lying, even now?" He grabbed her arm, yanking her from the bed and dragging her toward the door. "You'll tell me everything."

Her legs, still weak from the drug, buckled beneath her. Nikolai dragged her without pause, her body bumping painfully down the first few stairs before he hoisted her up and pushed her into his study. He slammed the door, locking it with a decisive click.

"His name," Nikolai demanded, pacing before her like a caged tiger. "Give me his name, Elena, and perhaps I'll let you live."

Tears streamed down her face. "I can't tell you what I don't know! Cassandra—she must have done this. She gave me a drink, and I felt strange. I think she drugged me."

"Cassandra?" Nikolai scoffed. "You would blame her for your infidelity?"

"It's the truth!" Elena cried, desperately searching his face for any sign that he might believe her. "Please, Nikolai. I would never betray you."

His bitter laugh cut through her. "Betray me? We have no love to betray, Elena. But you have betrayed my name, my honor." He raised the gun again, aiming it at her heart. "Tell me his name, or I swear I will end this here."

"I can't tell you what I don't know," she repeated, her voice breaking. Her hand moved protectively to her stomach. "Please, Nikolai. Not just for me, but for—"

"For your lover? For the bastard you might be carrying?" His eyes burned with disgust. "Do you think that would stay my hand?"

Elena flinched as if struck. The complete absence of trust in his eyes told her everything she needed to know. No matter what she said, he had already judged her guilty.

For nearly an hour, he raged and threatened, the gun alternately pointed at her and waved violently through the air. Elena remained firm in her innocence, though terror for her unborn child overwhelmed her.

Finally, Nikolai's fury seemed to burn itself out, leaving him cold and calculating.

"I will find him with or without your help," he said flatly. "And when I do, he will suffer before he dies. As for you..." He moved to the door, unlocking it. "You'll remain locked in this room until I decide what to do with you."

"Nikolai, please—"

The door slammed shut, the lock turning with finality. Elena collapsed to the floor, her body wracked with sobs. Her hand pressed against her abdomen, whispering desperate prayers that her baby had somehow survived this ordeal.

"I'm sorry," she murmured brokenly. "I'm so sorry, little one. I'll protect you somehow. I promise."

Hours passed in miserable solitude. The house grew quiet as night deepened. Elena had just drifted into an exhausted doze when the soft click of the lock startled her awake.

The door opened to reveal Cassandra, her perfect features arranged in a mask of concern. In her hand dangled a set of keys.

"My poor Elena," she cooed, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "What a terrible situation you've found yourself in."

Elena struggled to her feet, backing away. "You did this. You drugged me, staged those photos."

Cassandra's lips curved into a smile. "Clever girl. But who would believe you? Certainly not Nikolai." She held up the keys. "He's gone to meet with his men. He's going to have you killed, Elena. I heard him on the phone—he's arranging it for tonight."

Despite knowing Cassandra was likely lying, fear clutched at Elena's heart. Nikolai was a dangerous man when crossed, and he believed the worst of her now.

"Why are you here?" Elena demanded.

"To save you, of course," Cassandra replied, tossing the keys onto the desk between them. "These will get you out through the service entrance. Nikolai's men are watching the main gates, but the back path through the garden is clear." Her smile widened. "Run, little mouse. Run far away."

Elena stared at the keys, understanding dawning through her fear. "You want me gone so you can have him."

Cassandra's façade cracked slightly, irritation flashing in her eyes. "I already have him. You're just an inconvenience that needs removing." She glanced at her diamond-encrusted watch. "You have perhaps twenty minutes before he returns. I'd use them wisely if I were you."

Every instinct screamed that this was another of Cassandra's traps, but Elena's hand moved once more to her stomach. Her baby needed her alive and safe.

"You'll regret this," Elena said quietly, her voice steadier than she expected. "Whatever you think you've won, it will turn to ash in your hands. I promise you that."

Cassandra laughed lightly. "Brave words from a woman about to become a fugitive. Now run along—your time is ticking away."

Elena snatched the keys, pushing past Cassandra. "This isn't over," she warned.

"For you, it is," Cassandra called after her, but Elena was already hurrying down the hallway.

She grabbed only what she absolutely needed—her passport, hidden cash she'd been saving, a change of clothes—stuffing everything into a small bag. Her first priority had to be her baby. Everything else could wait.

Using the service entrance, Elena slipped out into the night. The cool air hit her face like a blessing after the suffocating tension of the house. She didn't look back as she hurried through the gardens and out onto the quiet street beyond.

Her first destination was clear—the hospital. The stress, the drugging, the physical handling—she needed to know if her baby had survived.

The emergency room was mercifully quiet when she arrived. Her pale face and shaking hands were enough to get her immediate attention.

"I'm pregnant," she told the doctor who examined her, her voice trembling. "Early stages. I've been under extreme stress, and I think I was drugged earlier today."

The doctor's kind eyes filled with concern as she conducted the examination. After what seemed like an eternity, she sat beside Elena, taking her hand gently.

"Your baby is still there," she said, bringing a wave of relief that made Elena lightheaded. "But I'm very concerned about the conditions you've described. Your blood pressure is dangerously high, and there are traces of a sedative in your system."

"Will my baby be okay?" Elena asked, clutching the doctor's hand.

"I can't promise that," the doctor replied honestly. "The next few days are critical. This level of stress—" she gestured to the bruises forming on Elena's arms where Nikolai had gripped her, "and these signs of physical trauma create a high risk for miscarriage."

Tears filled Elena's eyes. "What can I do?"

"You need complete rest in a stress-free environment," the doctor advised firmly. "No physical exertion, no emotional turmoil. Is there somewhere safe you can go? Someone who can take care of you?"

Elena thought desperately. There was no one, nowhere Nikolai couldn't eventually find her if he wanted to.

"I'll figure something out," she promised.

The doctor gave her prescriptions for prenatal vitamins and mild medication to help stabilize her blood pressure. "Your priority now has to be creating a calm, safe environment for yourself and your baby," she emphasized. "Whatever situation you're in—and I can see it's serious—you need to remove yourself from it immediately."

As Elena left the hospital, her mind raced through her options. Nikolai's reach was extensive throughout Europe. She needed to go somewhere he wouldn't think to look, somewhere far beyond his immediate influence.

At an internet café several blocks from the hospital, Elena booked a flight leaving that night—a red-eye to New York. It would drain most of her emergency funds, but it would give her the head start she needed.

As she waited at the airport, surrounded by travelers yet utterly alone, Elena placed her hand protectively over her stomach.

"We're going to be okay," she whispered to her unborn child. "I'm going to build us a new life, somewhere safe. I promise."