Chapter 10

Chapter 10: In the Dark

The elevator doors had barely closed when Damien’s phone lit up with cascading alerts. Red. Red. Red.

He didn’t speak. He simply took my hand and pulled me toward the private stairwell that led to the panic room two floors below the penthouse. The metal door sealed behind us with a pressurized hiss. Soft emergency lighting flickered on, bathing the reinforced concrete walls in pale blue.

I stood in the center of the small space, arms wrapped around myself, while Damien activated three separate screens on the far wall. Live feeds from the Voss Industries tower filled the monitors—lobby, executive corridors, server rooms.

Three men in dark jackets moved with quiet purpose through the thirty-second floor. One carried a black case the size of a briefcase. Another held a tablet, scanning door codes. The third kept looking over his shoulder like a man who expected bullets.

“They’re heading for the archive vault,” Damien said. His voice was calm, but the muscle in his jaw ticked. “That’s where the original financial records and the encrypted backups of every board communication are stored. If they wipe those drives, half the evidence against Serena and her partners disappears.”

I stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat of his body. “Can you stop them remotely?”

“Not without risking a full system lockdown that would tip them off. Marcus is already diverting security teams, but the men are using cloned access cards. They’ll be inside the vault in under four minutes.”

He turned from the screens and looked at me. Really looked. The cold strategist was still there, but underneath it I saw something rawer—fear, fury, and a fierce protectiveness that made my throat tighten.

“I should have left you somewhere safe,” he said quietly.

“There is nowhere safe,” I answered. “Not anymore.”

For a moment neither of us spoke. The only sound was the soft hum of the air filtration system and the distant city noise that never fully died even this high up.

Then Damien reached out and cupped the side of my face. His thumb traced the line of my cheekbone with a gentleness that felt almost out of place after everything we had survived tonight.

“I meant what I said in the lobby,” he murmured. “I will burn the world before I let them take you or your mother. But I need you to know something else.”

My pulse stuttered. “What?”

“This stopped being about the marriage contract the night I carried you out of that cathedral. It stopped being about revenge the moment you told me the truth about that package. I don’t just want you safe, Lila. I want you. The real you. The woman who signs her name to save someone she loves even when it costs her everything.”

The words landed soft and heavy at the same time. I felt tears prick the backs of my eyes and hated how easily he could undo me.

“I’m still the woman who took a bribe,” I whispered. “I’m still the woman with a felony hanging over her head.”

“You’re the woman I chose,” he said. “And I don’t unchoose.”

He leaned in and kissed me.

It wasn’t the claiming, bruising kisses from our wedding night or the heated ones that followed. This was slower. Deeper. A quiet promise sealed in the middle of a war. My hands curled into the front of his shirt as I kissed him back, pouring every unsaid fear and every fragile hope into the contact. For a few stolen seconds the screens, the men with the hard-drive burner, and Serena’s threats all faded.

When we finally broke apart, his forehead rested against mine.

“Stay here,” he said. “The room is rated for twelve hours of independent power and air. Marcus has the override. I’m going to the tower.”

“No.” The word came out sharper than I intended. “You don’t get to walk into that alone. Not after what you just said.”

Damien’s mouth curved in the smallest, darkest smile. “I’m not going alone. But you are staying where I know they can’t reach you.”

Before I could argue further, one of the screens flashed.

The three men had reached the vault door. The one with the tablet entered a long string of numbers. The heavy steel barrier began to slide open.

Damien’s expression hardened. He kissed me once more—quick, fierce—then stepped to the control panel and armed the secondary locks on the panic room.

“I’ll come back for you,” he promised.

The door sealed.

I was alone with the glowing screens and the sound of my own heartbeat.

I watched him appear on the tower feeds minutes later, moving through the executive floors with two of his most trusted security men. They moved like shadows. On another screen the intruders were already inside the vault, the black case open on a metal table, cables snaking into the main server rack.

My hands clenched into fists.

Then the feed from the vault flickered.

Static.

When the image returned, one of the intruders was on the floor. Unmoving. Damien stood over him, the second security man covering the remaining two at gunpoint. The hard-drive burner sat open and dark, its progress bar frozen at twelve percent.

I exhaled a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Damien’s voice came through the panic-room speaker a moment later, slightly distorted but clear.

“Vault is secure. Two in custody. One needs medical. The burner never completed the wipe. We still have the originals.”

Relief crashed through me so hard my knees nearly buckled.

Then Marcus’s voice cut in on the same channel, urgent.

“Sir. New problem. The hospital. Night shift just changed. The nurse we had stationed outside Mrs. Hart’s room isn’t responding. Cameras on that floor just went dark.”

The relief vanished.

Damien’s reply was immediate and ice-cold. “Send the rapid response team. Now. I’m on my way.”

I slammed my palm against the intercom button.

“Damien—let me out. I’m coming with you.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then his voice, quieter.

“The door will open in thirty seconds. Stay behind me. No arguments.”

The locks disengaged with a heavy click.

When I stepped out into the stairwell, Damien was already there, gun holstered at his side, eyes burning with the same protective fire that had just rewritten the rules of my world.

He took my hand.

“We finish this together,” he said.

We didn’t make it to the car.

The private elevator doors opened onto the underground garage—and the black Suburban was still there.

Its rear doors stood wide open.

Empty.

But on the concrete floor beside it lay a single object that made my blood freeze.

A hospital ID badge.

My mother’s name was printed clearly beneath the photo of a nurse I had never seen before.

And behind us, the elevator doors began to close on their own.

A soft electronic voice spoke from the overhead speaker.

“Override accepted. Destination: sub-level three. Medical containment.”

Damien’s hand tightened on mine as the elevator started to descend into a part of the building I didn’t even know existed.

Someone had just taken control of the tower from the inside.

And they already had my mother.