Chapter Two: Escape and Discovery(1)

Lila didn’t move. For a second, the world held its breath, just the rain sliding down the glass and the soft sound of Eli breathing in the crook of Dominic Hale’s arm.

Then her body decided for her.

She crossed the space in three fast steps and lifted her son out of his grasp before he could react. The movement shocked him enough that he didn’t try to stop her; she could feel his stare burning between her shoulder blades as she turned away.

“Don’t,” she said, voice trembling. “Don’t follow me.”

She heard him breathe in slowly, controlled, the way a man does when he’s accustomed to people obeying him.

“You’re not going anywhere until we talk.”

“I’ve had six years of silence. That’s enough talking.”

Eli stirred against her chest, tiny fingers curling at her collar. Panic clawed her throat. She went for the elevator.

But when she pressed the button, nothing happened.

No light. No sound.

The floor hummed softly under her feet, as if the entire tower was holding its breath again.

“Elevators are on lockdown,” Dominic said. His steps were closer now. “Security measure. No one in or out until I reset it.”

“You locked me in?”

“I locked us in. There’s a difference.”

She turned, ready to throw every truth she’d swallowed for six years, and stopped.

He wasn’t behind his desk anymore. He was barely a few feet away, coat off, shirt sleeves pushed to his elbows, strands of rain-wet hair falling across his forehead.

This wasn’t the polished billionaire from the news feeds.

This Dominic looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

Like control was a fragile thing balanced on guilt and something she didn’t want to name.

“Give me ten minutes,” he said. “Tell me what happened after that night. I need to understand.”

“Unlock the door.”

His jaw tightened. “If you leave without telling me the truth, Lila, I’ll find you again in an hour. And you know I will.”

Something in his tone, not threat, not plea, but something caught painfully between, made her heart twist.

She backed away, toward the emergency exit at the far end of the corridor. Her fingers caught the handle, and the lights died.

Eli whimpered softly. The sound jolted her into motion. She shoved the door open and slipped into the stairwell.

Cold metal. Dust. Emergency lights blinking red every few seconds.

“Mommy?”

“Shh, sweetheart.” She kissed his hair. “I’ve got you. We’re going home.”

Her boots echoed too loudly as she started down the steps.

A second later, something clicked above, another door opening.

“Lila!” Dominic’s voice, sharper now. “Stop running. The building’s on emergency power. You don’t know what’s happening.”

“Stay away from us!”

“I’m trying to keep you safe!”

The stairwell lights flickered, then steadied to a sickly yellow.

Somewhere below, an alarm buzzed, short, staccato, wrong. Not fire. Something else. Something worse.

Eli’s little hand tightened around her.

“Mommy, I’m scared.”

“It’s okay, baby. Just hold on.”

But then she noticed: her breath curled in front of her in a thin mist.

The temperature had dropped. Suddenly. Unnaturally.

Dominic caught up two flights below. When he reached for her arm, she spun so fast he nearly stumbled.

“Don’t touch me!”

He stopped instantly. His chest rose and fell rapidly; the emergency light cast shadows across his face.

“Someone breached the lower floors,” he said. “It’s not me locking you in anymore. It’s the system locking down the entire tower.”

She searched his eyes for a lie.

But found only confusion, and something she never thought she’d see again in him: fear.

A metal door was forced open, then a crash echoed from below them

Dominic’s head snapped toward the sound.

“Downstairs,” he muttered. “They’re in the restricted levels.”

“Who?” she demanded.

He didn’t answer. He brushed his hand against her waist, urging her upward instead of down.

The touch sent a shock through her, a mix of memory, warmth, and danger, all tangled together.

“Trust me,” he said.

“Trust you?” Her voice cracked. “After what you did?”

“I don’t even know what I did!” he shouted, too loud, too raw.

He forced himself to breathe. “Please, Lila. For him.”

Eli had gone quiet again, head tucked under her chin.

A second crash below, but this time, it's louder, closer, followed by a man’s shout.

Dominic’s expression changed, and a cold, strategic calm slid over him like armor.

“This way.”

He pushed open a metal door, leading her into a narrow service corridor lined with pipes and humming wires. The floor vibrated faintly, as though the tower itself was throbbing with tension.

“Where are we going?” she whispered.

“To a place they shouldn’t find,” he said.

They moved quickly, shadows bending around them.

This level didn’t look like any part of the Hale Tower she’d seen. It looks older, harsher, stripped of the luxury that once adorned it.

Finally, Dominic stopped at a heavy steel door with a keypad. His fingers flew across it with practiced instinct.

The lock released.

A dark room waited beyond, lined with flickering monitors and walls thick enough to muffle a storm.

“What is this?” she breathed.

“My security hub,” he said.

He stepped inside and flipped a switch.

Screens lit one by one, displaying camera feeds from every floor.

Her breath caught.

One screen showed her, not today, but years ago.

A grainy clip of her leaving a hospital, a blanket-wrapped newborn in her arms.

“What is this?” she whispered again, voice shaking.

Dominic stared at the screen, his expression unreadable.

“I’ve never seen this footage before.”

Behind them, another alarm blared, closer now, too close.

Dominic turned sharply.

“Whoever’s coming already knows where you are.”

Lila looked back at the screen.

The date stamp: six years ago.

And the baby in her arms looked familiar.

The monitor flickered.

The feed jumped.

Now it showed their corridor, the one outside this very room.

A dark figure was moving toward the steel door.

Dominic slammed his hand on the lock control, and the monitor went black.