LOGINELARA
Damien’s eyes flare with raw hunger at my words, the kind that makes my pulse thunder in my throat. He doesn’t speak. He simply moves.One second I’m standing between his thighs; the next, my back meets the cool glass of his floor-to-ceiling window, fifty-eight stories above the city. The skyline glitters behind me like a carpet of diamonds, but all I can feel is the hard, unyielding heat of him pressing me into thELARAMorrison'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
DAMIENBy next morning, I recieve Hayes texts at 6 AM.Hayes: Marcus Reid has been acquired. He's at the foundation site. Though he is confused but he is cooperative. How do you want to handle this?Me: Give me thirty minutes. I'll meet you there.I slip out of bed without waking Elara, dress up quickly, and leave a note on the pillow: Meeting with Marcus. Back soon. Stay inside. -DThe foundation building looks skeletal in the early morning light, bare concrete and steel beams, frozen mid-construction.Marcus Reid is sitting on a plastic crate in the center of the empty first floor, flanked by two of Hayes's security team, looking so terrified."Mr. Reid." I approach him slowly, in a non-threatening manner. "Thank you for agreeing to meet.""I didn't agree to anything. Your people grabbed me off the street...""My people offered you a ride to discuss a business opportunity. You accepted." I sit on a crate across from him. "But you're right. This isn't voluntary. So let's be honest wi
ELARAI wait, with my body humming with anticipation and frustration.6:52 p.m. I hear the echo of footsteps that are measured and confident. Soon, the door to the driver's side opens.Damien slides in, with his
ELARAI wake up Tuesday morning with a restless ache between my thighs that no amount of cold showers or strategic distraction can eliminate.It's been two days since I last saw Damien. He respected my boundary without question. Didn't push or show up. Just texted goodnight and let me have my space
DAMIENHis eyes say something else entirely.My blood turns to fire, but I stay silent, watching her.She smiles in a professional but distant way. “I appreciate the offer, but my schedule is quite full. Perhaps we can continue the conversation via email with the team.”Hale nods, gracious in defea
DAMIEN Elara and I stare at each other across the wide mahogany desk, the air between us thick enough to taste...charged with the lingering scent of her arousal, sharp and sweet, cutting through the polished leather and faint citrus of my office. "Investors," she says slowly, voice husky, lips s







