Chapter Six: Seven Days Deadline

Roana’s POV

I stepped out of the room, shutting the heavy oak door behind me with a soft but final click, muffling the broken sobs that still echoed within. Selene’s screams clawed at my ears, but I didn’t flinch. I didn’t look back. Mercy was a luxury I couldn’t afford—not now, not with everything at stake. The cold marble floor beneath my boots seemed to mirror the chill settling in my chest.

I walked toward the balcony, each step deliberate, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. The night air greeted me with a biting breeze, but I welcomed it. It cut through the heat of my own fury, cooling the storm surging beneath my skin.

She would hate me. And maybe she should.

It was going to hurt her—I knew that. But it was the only way to keep her safe. If Selene walked away now, if she thought for even a second she had a choice in this, she’d be dead by morning.

If I had to be the villain in her story to keep her breathing, so be it.

The soft patter of footsteps behind me barely registered until I heard her voice.

“Ronan, I really think you should send her back…”

Her words drifted in like fog, but I cut through them, sharp and immediate.

“To where?” I said coldly, my eyes fixed on the dark skyline, the city lights below like dying stars. “Back to him? Back to that house?”

“Anywhere but here,” Lena said, her voice taut with worry. “Getting involved in this... it won’t do you any good. Besides, she’s your brother’s wife.”

I turned, slowly, locking eyes with her. “Lena, enough.”

My voice came out lower than expected—measured, but lethal.

“Selene stays here. She belongs to me now. Damien made his choice. He sold her.”

Lena blinked. The disbelief in her eyes was almost laughable.

“Roana, when did you start caring?” she asked, a tremor in her voice. “When did you become some twisted knight in shining armor? This isn’t like you.”

A dry chuckle escaped me. The humor didn’t reach my eyes. “And when did you start questioning my orders?”

She looked away, jaw clenched. “I’m just looking out for you.”

Her words were softer now, tinged with something close to fear—but not of me. Of what this meant. Of what I was becoming.

Before I could answer, my phone vibrated in my pocket. The shrill ring cracked through the tension like a whip. I pulled it out, glanced at the screen.

“Boss. Shipment’s in. Warehouse’s locked.” Luca’s voice crackled through the speaker.

“I’ll be there,” I said, ending the call without another word.

I slipped the phone back into my coat and turned to Lena again. Her eyes met mine, fierce with unspoken defiance. I stepped closer, dropping my voice.

“This is the last time we talk about Selene. Understood?”

Lena didn’t speak. She only nodded, barely.

I turned, ready to leave, but her voice stopped me cold.

“Where are you going?”

“The warehouse.”

“You don’t have to go yourself,” she muttered.

“I don’t need permission to do my job, Lena.” My tone was flat. “Stay with Selene. Make sure she doesn’t try anything stupid.”

Lena scoffed. “When did I become her babysitter?”

I didn’t answer her. Instead, I tossed a final order over my shoulder. “Clean up her room. Make sure she eats something.”

She muttered something under her breath I didn’t catch—but I didn’t need to. I was already halfway down the hallway, coat flaring behind me, heart hammering like war drums in my chest.

....

I should’ve never taken Selene. It was a risk I had no business entertaining. But I didn’t care. Not anymore.

I wasn’t afraid of her defiance—not truly. What I feared was the part of me that wanted her to stop fighting. The part that wanted her to see the monster in me and still choose to stay. The part that craved her forgiveness like a sinner praying for a heaven he didn’t believe in.

I was Roana—stone-hearted, ruthless, untouchable. But with her… I was slipping.

The warehouse was a few minutes away, but I barely remembered the drive. The silence inside the car was deafening. My own mind felt like a battlefield. Every decision I’d made in the last 48 hours clawed at me, demanding to be questioned, dissected.

Why her? Why this girl?

She wasn’t like the others. She was a storm wrapped in silk, fire buried beneath porcelain skin. And the moment I saw her, I knew—this wouldn’t end clean. She would unravel me, one thread at a time, and I’d let her.

Because Selene wasn’t just in my world now.

She was mine.

........

Damien's POV

The walls of my study felt like they were closing in. My pacing had worn an invisible groove into the Persian rug, each step growing heavier under the weight of dread.

My heart pounded like it wanted out of my chest.

“Shit... I’m doomed,” I muttered, running a trembling hand through my hair. “What the hell is this?”

Selene was gone. Vanished. Like a wisp of smoke, I couldn’t catch it even if I clawed the air bloody.

How? How the fuck did she manage to escape?

No. No, this wasn’t some random miracle. There was a plan. A hand behind this. A traitor in my circle. Someone had helped her. Someone was playing a game far more dangerous than they understood.

And now, I was the one left to burn for it.

“I have to get her back,” I whispered, chest tightening with panic. “Selene can’t leave. Not like this. She’s my collateral—my ticket out of this damn debt.”

A loud crash snapped me out of my spiral. The doors slammed open.

Boots thudded against the wooden floors. Heavy. Purposeful. Men in black filed in like death itself had sent them. Cold eyes. Scarred hands. Weapons bulging under coats. I knew exactly who they worked for.

I turned slowly, every nerve screaming. And then he stepped in.

He didn’t need an introduction. The moment he entered, the air dropped ten degrees.

Black suit. Polished shoes. A face like a carving of wrath held back by thin control. But his eyes—God, his eyes burned with fury barely leashed.

He lowered himself onto the leather couch like a king returning to his throne.

“Damien Blackwood,” he said with a voice colder than steel in winter.

Before I could respond, a fist connected with the back of my legs, knocking me hard to the floor. I dropped to my knees with a grunt, only meters away from the devil himself.

“ I-I’m sorry,” I stammered, bowing my head, voice trembling. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen—”

“Do you even realize what you’ve done?” he snapped, standing now, rage flaring across his features. “Do you have any idea the fire you’ve just danced into?”

“I swear,” I began, but the words caught in my throat when the first lash cracked through the air.

Whip.

The leather tore into my back, and I bit down a scream. Pain exploded across my spine. The second strike came faster.

Whip.

I groaned, blood slicking my shirt. The sting was nothing compared to the humiliation. The powerlessness.

“How dare you trick me?” he growled. “You lied. You wasted my time. You cost me men.”

“No—I didn’t—”

Whip.

Another scream ripped out of me, raw and broken. Blood dripped from the corners of my mouth. I tasted iron and fear.

“Do you know I can end your life right now?” he whispered, his voice soft, almost gentle—far more terrifying than the shouting.

“Yes,” I gasped. “Yes—I know. That’s why I’d never lie to you. I swear, I had no part in her escape.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re still lying to me.”

Whip.

This one landed in the same spot. Fire blazed up my spine. My breath hitched. My vision blurred.

“Please,” I rasped. “Hear me out.”

He laughed. A cruel, mocking sound. “Hear you out? You want me to listen, after you sent your wife running with my merchandise? After you killed my men to cover her escape?”

“I didn’t,” I cried. “I didn’t do it. I don’t even know how she got out. Why the hell would I risk my life protecting a woman I can’t even stand? She’s nothing to me—just leverage.”

“Then why the hell is she gone, Damien?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered, shaking. “But I’ll fix it. I’ll find her. I’ll drag her back myself. Just give me a little time. She’s got no one. She couldn’t have gone far.”

The man studied me with eyes that had seen too much death to blink at weakness.

“Damien,” he said softly. “You’re playing with fire. Again.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Every word felt like glass in my throat.

“I’ll give you one week,” he continued. “Seven days. You find her. You clean up your mess. You finish your end of the deal.”

He leaned closer, voice a breath over my ear. “Or you’re not just dead—you’ll wish you were.”

He stood, slow and regal, like a king leaving a condemned man to the gallows. “I’ll see you in a week.”

He left without another word. The sound of his men retreating echoed like a war drum in my skull.

As soon as the front door slammed shut, I collapsed forward, palms braced against the floor. Blood dripped freely down my back, pooling under me. My breath came in ragged gasps.

Still, I dragged myself to the desk, pain be damned. I needed answers.

I snatched my phone and dialed Alvin. He answered on the second ring.

“Found anything?” I snapped, the desperation cracking through my voice.

“Someone helped her,” Alvin said flatly.

“Who?” I demanded, barely able to keep still. “Tell me the bastard who did it.”

A pause. Then: “Roana Blackwood.”

The name hit like a gunshot to the chest.

My grip tightened on the phone until my knuckles popped. “That bastard. What the hell is he playing at?”

“Boss… what are we gonna do?” Alvin asked quietly.

“Get Selene back.”

“That’s not gonna be easy. Roana’s estate is a fortress.”

“I. Don’t. Care.” I snarled. “She’s still my wife. He has no right to touch her. She belongs to me.”

I hung up before Alvin could speak again and hurled the phone across the room. It shattered against the wall, plastic and glass flying like shrapnel.

I stood there, panting, fists clenched, blood dripping freely down my back.

One week.

Seven days.

I would get her back, or burn everything down trying.

“Selene…” I whispered. “You can’t run from me.”