Chapter Nine: The Escape Plan

Selene’s POV

I stood outside the grand oak door, my back pressed flat against the icy marble wall, the chill seeping through my clothing. My breath caught in my throat as I strained to eavesdrop on the conversation echoing inside.

Each word they exchanged struck me like a bolt of electricity, igniting a tension deep in my bones. Ronan’s tone remained cool and unbothered, a calm facade that concealed the storm brewing beneath. Yet, there was something darker lingering in his words—a calculated plan slowly unfurling, one that hinted at his imminent departure… and the unsettling notion that he intended to take the shadows with him.

Hope flickered within my chest, a fragile flame dancing against the darkness of despair that had clouded my mind for so long.

Then, the sound of footsteps broke through my thoughts.

Heavy. Measured. Drawing closer with each passing second.

My heartbeat hammered frantically against my ribcage, a wild drum echoing in the silence of the corridor.

With barely a moment to spare, I slipped behind one of the tall, decorative pillars lining the hallway, merging into the shadows like a frightened deer retreating into the cover of trees. The ornate carvings on the pillar felt cool against my skin, grounding me as I held my breath.

Ronan stepped into the corridor—a towering figure, exuding an air of undeniable authority. He was dressed impeccably, each piece of his tailored suit designed to command attention and respect. His expression remained unreadable, a mask of stoicism that hinted he was already waging an internal war. He strode past, oblivious to my presence, his gaze fixed straight ahead as though he could see a future I wasn't privy to.

I remained frozen, muscles coiled tight and breath held, until the sound of his footsteps faded into the distance, swallowed by the vastness of the estate. Only then did I dare to move.

Quietly, I darted back to my room, closing the door behind me with a barely audible click. I leaned against the sturdy wood, relief washing over me in waves as I exhaled sharply, my heart still racing from the adrenaline.

For the first time in days, a smile curled on my lips, hesitant yet hopeful.

Today.

Today just might be the day I finally escape this gilded prison.

A wild rush of adrenaline surged through my veins, thrumming with disbelief. Had fate finally decided to intervene? Just hours earlier, I had felt trapped, convinced there was no way to slip past Lena’s watchful gaze. But now? Maybe, just maybe, the Lord was indeed on my side. Perhaps my whispered prayers had not gone unheard after all.

With renewed determination, I began to pace the confines of my lavish room, my eyes roving over every intricate detail as if I were seeing it for the first time. The plush gold furnishings and the opulence I once perceived as suffocating now appeared as the defining borders of a prison cell that I was finally poised to break free from.

No more silken sheets draping my bed. No more looming security cameras capturing my every move. No more living in this extravagant cage.

It was time to seek an escape route. It was time to outsmart them all.

I approached the window, pulling back the heavy curtain just enough to peek through its sheer fabric. Beyond the glass, the estate grounds sprawled wide, with the imposing iron gate just visible in the distance—but not insurmountable. Especially if I planned my timing, relied on luck, and maintained silence as I slipped away into the night.

“Tonight… without fail, I must leave this cage of luxury,” I murmured to myself, my voice low yet resolute, the words solidifying my resolve.

For the first time since my arrival here, I felt a flicker of belief ignite within me.

Tonight wasn’t just another night.

It was the night I would reclaim my freedom.

… … .

Damien's Mansion: Damien's POV

The air in my study felt suffocating tonight, heavy with unresolved tension, as if the walls themselves could feel the storm brewing within me. I stood next to the expansive window, gazing into the inky blackness of the night sky—a vast expanse that seemed to mock my desperation. I knew the answers wouldn’t materialize in the stars, but I was resolute. My decision was made.

“Boss,” a voice pulled me from my reverie. It was Alvin, his tone steady yet laced with an edge of concern. “You agreed to bring her back... but how exactly do you plan to do that?”

I turned my body slowly, the aged leather of my chair creaking beneath me as I released the tension in my clenched fists. My gaze, dark as the night beyond, bore into Alvin, searching for his reaction.

“Since Ronan refuses to hand her over peacefully,” I replied, each word dripping with low, dangerous resolve, “I’ll reclaim her by force.”

Alvin stared at me, a mix of shock and acknowledgment flickering across his face. Deep down, he understood the lengths I was willing to go when pushed to the brink. And right now, I was far beyond that threshold. I was consumed by rage.

I inhaled deeply, letting the air fill my lungs as I steadied myself.

“Tonight, he’ll be out for an exchange,” I continued, the words rolling off my tongue with a sense of purpose. “That’s our window. The perfect opportunity to strike—he'll be too distracted, too far from the estate to stop us.”

Alvin blinked in surprise. “How did you find out about that?”

A bitter smile curled at the corners of my lips. “Not all of Ronan’s men are as loyal as he believes. Offer them the right incentive, and they’ll turn against their own without a second thought.”

He raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched on his features. “You bribed them?”

I chose silence, walking deliberately to my massive oak desk. I reached down, pulling open the bottom drawer with a steady hand. My fingers brushed against textured parchment, the weight of it reassuring as I retrieved a meticulously folded map.

“This,” I declared, spreading it out across the polished surface of the table, “is the layout of his mansion.”

Alvin leaned in closer, his disbelief tangible as his eyes scanned the details. “How on earth did you acquire this?”

I allowed a smirk to bloom, pride resonating in my tone. “I have an insider on the inside. Someone discreet. Brainy. Someone Ronan would never suspect.”

Alvin let out a low whistle, a hint of admiration in his tone. “You’re truly impressive, Boss.”

I refrained from responding, my eyes glued to the blueprint as if it were the final piece of an intricate puzzle I had been longing to complete. Every dimly lit hallway, every blind spot in the security system, every rotation of the guards—it was all mapped out before me. Victory felt tantalizingly close.

Yet beneath that anticipation, a tempest of fury and desperation brewed.

Selene.

Her face floated into my mind—brilliant eyes that once sparkled with joy, now overshadowed by fear and confusion. I could still hear her voice, the trembling in her words during our last encounter, a moment I had dismissed.

I gritted my teeth, my determination solidifying.

I had to bring her back. She was mine, and I could do anything I wanted with her.

“Just hang on, Selene,” I muttered, my voice strained with raw emotion. “You’re coming back to me.”

With a deliberate motion, I traced the edge of the map with my finger, pausing at the guest wing. That’s where she would be. That’s where I’d find her.

The plan crystallized in my mind: infiltrate the mansion, secure her, and exit before they knew what hit them. Yet, I also understood that nothing with Ronan ever unfolded as expected. If he caught wind of my intentions... it would spark a war. A war I was prepared to wage.

Alvin considered me, his expression a mix of admiration and caution.

“Are you truly sure about this?” he asked gently, noting the fire igniting within me. “Ronan won’t take this lightly. He’ll be out for blood.”

I met his gaze with unwavering determination. “Then let him come.”

Tonight wasn’t about strategy, nor was it about proving myself. It was about redemption. It was about correcting the gravity of a mistake that should never have happened.

“I must get her back tonight. Unfailingly,” I whispered.

And nothing—not Ronan, not his fortress, not even hell itself—was going to stop me.