LOGINELARAWe left the inn and got back to the penthouse just after midnight.Hayes drops us at the entrance, and take the car around, all of a sudden it's just the two of us in the elevator, our shoulders touching. The air is filled with silence, all through the drive I had shut my eyes pretending to rest, I simply don't know how to answer Damien's question both the one he asked and the one he hasn't asked. But here standing with him I can't keep runing away from it.The penthouse is exactly as we left it.I drop my bag by the door. Toe off my shoes and stand in the middle of the living room trying to breathe in fresh air and dispel my worries.Damien watches me from the entryway, still in his coat."Say it," I tell him."Say what?""Whatever you're holding back."He's quiet for a moment. Then: "I want to know how you are. Answer me truthfully, not the one you've been giving everyone else today."I consider lying. Not maliciously...just the reflexive self-sufficiency I've spent years perf
ELARAMorrison's team moves on towards the house at 7:43 PM.It's quiet and coordinated and fast. Two officers to the back, two to the side, Morrison herself at the front door with her badge already out.She knocks."Elena Blake. This is Detective Sarah Morrison, NYPD. I have a warrant for your arrest. Please open the door."Silence.Then, from inside, I hear a laughter a sound I recognize even from twenty feet away.The door opens.Elena stands in the doorway looking like she's been expecting company for dinner. She's wearing jeans and a cream-colored sweater, her dark hair is loose around her shoulders, and she looks so much like me that the officers nearest to her visibly startle.She looks at Morrison. Then past her, scanning until she finds me in the shadows at the edge of the drive.And she smiles."You actually came," she says, and her voice carries perfectly in the quiet evening air. She sounds almost delighted. "I wasn't sure you would.""Elena Blake," Morrison begins, "you a
ELARAThe drive to Vermont takes four hours and seventeen minutes.I know because I count every one of them.Damien sits beside me in the back of the SUV, his hand wrapped around mine, while his thumb traces slow circles against my skin. It should be comforting. It is comforting. But every mile that passes feels like a countdown, and I can't shake the feeling that we're driving toward something we can't take back.Marcus sits in the second row with one of Hayes's men. He hasn't spoken since we left the city. He just stares out the window with the hollow eyes like he is finally reckoning with the weight of everything they've done.I don't feel sorry for him.But I don't hate him either. Not anymore. He's just another person Elena used and discarded when she was done.She has a gift for that.Hayes rides up front, running logistics on his tablet, coordinating with Detective Morrison, with the Vermont State Police, and with Damien's security consultants already positioned near Woodstock.
DAMIENI'm in the car with Hayes, Marcus Reid secured in the back seat, when Elara's text comes through."Elena's missing," I tell Hayes. "Change of plans. We need to find her before she gets too far.""Or before she does something desperate," Hayes adds grimly. "Cornered narcissists are dangerous."Marcus speaks up from the back seat. "She has a backup plan. She always does."I turn to look at him. "Explain.""When we first started working together, Elena told me she had contingencies for every scenario. If things went south, she had places to go, identities to use, with money stashed away." Marcus looks at us nervously. "She said she'd been planning her escape route since high school. Just in case.""Since high school?" That's fifteen years of preparation. "Where would she go?""I don't know the specifics. She kept that information compartmentalized, she said if I didn't know, I couldn't tell anyone even if I wanted to." Marcus shifts uncomfortably. "But she mentioned Canada once. S
ELARAThat evening, as we're doing final preparations to leave for the safe house, my mother calls me.I almost don't answer. But something makes me pick up."Mom.""Elara, sweetheart, we need to talk." She sounds tired and defeated. "About Elena.""There's nothing to talk about...""She's in trouble. Real trouble. The police called us today. Said they're preparing to arrest her for fraud and conspiracy." My mom's voice breaks. "They said she could go to prison for decades.""She committed crimes, Mom . Serious crimes. She should go to prison.""But she's your sister. Our daughter. We can't just abandon her.""She abandoned herself when she chose to destroy people for sport." I'm so tired of this conversation. "Mom, she orchestrated a murder plot. She hacked into federal databases. She framed Damien for securities fraud. These aren't mistakes. This is who she is.""She's sick, Elara. She needs help, not prison.""Then she should have gotten help before she committed felonies." My voic
DAMIENMarcus Reid sits across from me in the empty building, looking like a man who's just been handed a life preserver."Elena's calling me." He holds up his phone, showing the three missed calls. "She never calls three times in a row. She's freaking out.""Because she knows you've been compromised." I lean back against a concrete pillar. "The question is, what are you going to tell her when you call back?""What do you want me to tell her?""The truth. That you're scared. That the SEC is closing in and that you want out." I meet his eyes. "But not that you've met with me or that you're cooperating. You play it straight, like a nervous partner who's getting cold feet.""She'll know something's wrong.""Let her. Paranoid Elena makes mistakes. Comfortable Elena is dangerous." I check my watch. "Call her back. Put it on speaker. Let's hear what she says."Marcus dials with shaking hands. Elena answers on the first ring."Where the fuck have you been?" She didn't bother with greeting. T
ELARA The plan goes into effect at dawn. I wake up to find Damien already dressed, standing at the window with Hayes, both of them studying the tablets that shows camera feeds and heat signatures. "Morning," I say quietly. They both turn. Damien's expression softens when he sees me, but Hayes r
ELARAThirty-six hours later, they arrive.I watch from the upstairs window as three black helicopters land on the helipad one after the other. Men pour out of it, like twenty of them, moving with military precision. They're dressed in ta
ELARA "Money. Power. My son's empire." He takes a step closer. "But more than that? I want him to feel what I felt when he destroyed my life. When he testified against me and sent me to prison. When he took everything from me.""You destroyed your own
ELARA I step out of the bathroom, the steam still clinging to my skin like a lover's breath. I towel my body and slipped into something far more deliberate—a sheer black babydoll nightie that I found tucked away in the drawer, the kind that's all lace and transparency, barely skimming the tops of







