CHAPTER 18: THE DESPERATE ESCAPE

Since this is a penthouse, the elevator always goes downstairs from up here.

However the elevator that leads up to the rooftop is only secured between 11 p.m. and 6 a.m.

If I time it right, I can get out through the maintenance stairwell that Xander probably thinks I don’t know exists.

It's still around midnight so the whole place is quiet outside my room door.

Thinking this through, I rush out of the bathroom and back into my room.

Then I go over to my bed, pressing a pillow under the blankets so that it will look like I'm still in bed sleeping soundly.

The babies kicks once, as if it's sensing my plan, and my heart hammers in my chest as I place a hand over my belly.

“I’m getting us out,” I whisper.

I walk on my tiptoes across the room, avoiding making to much noise as I pull open my dresser, take out an oversized hoodie and throw it on.

Then I slip into a pair of black flats, tuck my burner phone into my bra and head out.

I reach the stairwell, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

So far, so good.

There's been no alarms, no guards outside my room door, or anywhere, and most importantly, no Xander.

Relief washes over me as I go down floor by floor, gripping the rail with one hand while I use the other to hold over my belly.

I'm halfway down when a voice cuts in through the... hall.

“I was really hoping you wouldn’t be this stupid.”

My breath freezes in my lungs literally while I look around.

No.

No, no, no.

Xander steps out from a corner, dressed in black sweatpants and a white T-shirt with his veins bulging at his temple, obviously showing to me just how angry he is at my escape attempt.

“How long were you planning this?” he asks, stressing each word quietly.

I spin toward the next flight of stairs, but he lunges forward, and grabs my wrist.

“You don’t get to run from me, Athena.”

“I’m not yours to keep!” I scream, twisting in his grip.

I'm not thinking so well now, all I can think of is that three people have been killed because of this situation I'm in, and I could be next.

“You locked me in this place like an animal-------”

“I am protecting you!”

“Bullshit!” I spit. “You were caging me!”

He drags me back up the stairs, his grip now shaking.

“I'm giving you everything,” he growls. “You want to run? Run into whose arms, huh? Some stranger with a fantasy about saving the poor pregnant girl from the big bad billionaire?”

I stop struggling, not because I give in, but because the look in his eyes is too raw and too real.

He looks wrecked, no, not in an angry way more anymore, just desperate.

“Do you even hear yourself?” I hiss.

“You’re going off the charts, Xander. You can’t control everything!”

“I can control you,” he snaps.

“You don’t own me.”

“You’re carrying my children.”

“That doesn’t make me your property!”

For a moment, we both breathe like we’ve just come out from deep water without air for a long time.

His chest heaves, my skin literally burns from how angry I am and my babies move a little but I don't flinch.

Xander’s voice softens now, but it’s much worse than the shouting.

“Do you think I would ever let you go?” he says lowly in a hoarse voice.

“After everything... do you really think I could?”

I should answer him--- after all his question isn't retorical---- but I don't.

Then he pulls me against him like he can’t help it, digging his fingers into my waist like he’s afraid I’ll vanish and his breath grazes my temple.

“I’m already too far gone,” he whispers, almost to himself.

“And you— you’re the only thing keeping me sane.”

I want to scream at him.

I want to curse him to hell for what he’s done— locking me away, parading me like a trophy and treating my choices like inconveniences.

I want to hit him for being so potent that he was able to fertilize my barren womb.

I want to bite into his skin so that he would feel every sort of pain I'm feeling.

... But right now, all I feel is his heart pounding against mine.

And I hate myself because part of me wants to believe him for saying those words he just said.

“I can’t live like this,” I say finally.

“I can't live on this fear of being watched. That’s not living.”

He leans back then, just enough to look me in the eye.

“Then don’t run from me. Stay and let me protect you... properly.”

I shake my head. “You say that like I have a choice.”

He cups my cheek, brushing his thumb under my eye.

“You don’t,” he says softly.

---

Later that night, I’m back in the penthouse with the doors locked, guards who have been woken from their sleep now posted at my doors, and my plan totally in ruins.

Xander hasn’t left my side since then.

He’s sitting in the corner now, watching me with haunted eyes while I pace back and forth in my room.

“Do you think locking me up will make me love you?” I ask, thinking back to his confession earlier.

“I don’t need you to love me," he tells me quietly and that stops me from pacing.

I turn, blinking at him while he meets my gaze.

“I need you to survive.”

Letting out a breath, I slump my shoulders and go over to my bed, sitting on the edge of it too exhausted to argue and too drained to run again.

“You scare me,” I whisper but he doesn’t flinch.

“You should,” he murmurs.

“Because there’s nothing I won’t do to keep you."