Evening – Liana's Apartment
The soft hum of the city filtered through the partially open window. Liana Carter sat curled up on her couch, her arms wrapped around her legs. The dim glow of a single table lamp illuminated the room, casting long shadows on the wall.
Her hands trembled slightly as she clutched a glass of wine. She hadn't even taken a sip—it just sat there, untouched, the liquid reflecting the faint golden light.
Her mind was still back in Adrian's office.
The coldness in his eyes.
The possessive way he had caged her in.
The dangerous promise in his voice—"You'll never escape me again."
Her chest tightened, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps.
She ran her hand through her hair, gripping it slightly, as if trying to ground herself.
"Get it together, Liana," she whispered to herself, her voice barely above a breath.
But she knew better.
There was no escaping him now.
Her phone vibrated on the coffee table, shattering the silence. Her heart jumped. For a brief second, she feared it would be Adrian. But when she glanced at the screen, she felt a mix of relief and guilt.
Lucas Harper.
She stared at his name flashing on the screen. Her fingers hovered over the decline button, but instead, she sighed and answered the call.
"Hey," she said softly, her voice weak and unsteady.
"Liana?" Lucas's concerned voice filled her ear.
"You okay? You sound… off."
She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her fingers against her temple.
"I'm fine," she lied.
"Just tired."
There was a beat of silence before he spoke again.
"You saw him, didn't you?" Lucas's voice was quieter now, more serious.
Her throat tightened. She didn't need to confirm it—he already knew.
"Yeah," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her fingers clenched the hem of the throw blanket over her lap.
"Damn it, Liana," Lucas exhaled sharply.
"I told you not to go alone."
Her grip on the blanket tightened. She stared at the floor, feeling the familiar weight of guilt pressing down on her chest.
"I didn't have a choice," she muttered.
"He left me no choice, Lucas."
There was a long pause. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, darker.
"You should've called me."
Her eyes stung, but she forced back the rising emotion in her throat. She knew Lucas meant well, but he couldn't protect her from Adrian Knight.
No one could.
---
Flashback – Three Years Ago
Paris – Lucas's Loft
The rain pounded against the glass windows of the loft, the city lights blurry through the downpour.
Liana sat at the edge of the bed, her hair damp and her hands trembling slightly.
Across the room, Lucas Harper stood shirtless, holding a towel around his neck. His dark hair was still wet from the shower. He stared at her with concerned eyes, watching as she pressed a trembling hand over her mouth, trying to muffle her uneven breathing.
Without a word, he walked over and knelt in front of her, gently prying her hand away.
"Breathe," he whispered softly, his hands gently cupping her face.
"Just breathe, Liana."
Her eyes, red-rimmed from crying, locked onto his. She was trembling violently.
Her voice came out broken.
"I—I left him, Lucas."
Her breath hitched.
"He'll come for me. I know he will."
Lucas's jaw clenched. His hands slid down to her shoulders, his grip firm but comforting.
"Let him try," he said softly but fiercely.
"He won't touch you again. I promise."
Her heart ached at the memory—the gentleness in Lucas's voice, the warmth of his touch. She had clung to him for safety, desperate for a place to breathe again.
But even then, she had known.
Lucas could offer her kindness.
But Adrian owned her soul.
---
Present – Liana's Apartment
The rain outside pelted against the window, dragging her back to the present. She exhaled shakily and glanced at her phone again.
Lucas was still on the line.
"Liana," he murmured softly, sensing her emotional distance.
"You don't have to do this alone. Let me help you."
Her chest tightened painfully. She clenched her jaw, trying to steady her voice.
"I'll be fine, Lucas," she lied again, her voice brittle.
She ended the call before he could say anything else.
Her fingers lingered over the phone screen for a moment. A part of her wanted to call him back—to let him comfort her like he had done in the past.
But she knew better.
Getting Lucas involved would only make Adrian angrier.
And Adrian Knight's wrath was not something she wanted Lucas to suffer.
She placed the phone down and rose from the couch, walking toward the window. The rain blurred the city lights, casting everything in a hazy, dreamlike glow.
She pressed her palm against the cool glass, staring at her own reflection. Her eyes looked hollow—haunted.
The woman staring back at her was a stranger.
A broken version of the woman she once was.
Her thoughts were shattered by the sharp chime of the doorbell.
Her heart stopped.
She turned slowly, her breath catching in her throat.
She wasn't expecting anyone.
Her footsteps were slow and hesitant as she made her way to the door. She peered through the peephole.
Her blood turned cold.
Adrian.
He was standing there, dressed in a dark coat, his hair slightly damp from the rain. His hands were shoved into his pockets, his expression unreadable. But his eyes—the predatory glint in his eyes—made her breath catch.
For a brief moment, she considered not opening the door.
But she knew he wouldn't leave.
Adrian never left.
Her fingers shook slightly as she slowly unlocked the door.
As soon as it opened, he stepped inside without permission, his towering frame invading her small apartment.
She stumbled back slightly, her breath uneven.
He closed the door behind him, his eyes never leaving hers.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension in the air was suffocating.
"Adrian—" she started, but her voice died in her throat when he suddenly grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer.
Her eyes widened, her pulse quickening.
His grip was firm but not painful. It was possessive—as if reminding her who she belonged to.
"You didn't think I'd let you walk away this time, did you?" he whispered darkly, his voice low and dangerously soft.
Her throat tightened. She tried to pull her hand away, but he didn't let go.
Instead, he slowly brought her hand to his lips. His eyes remained locked onto hers as he pressed a slow, deliberate kiss against her knuckles.
Her breath caught.
"You can fight me all you want, Liana," he murmured, his lips grazing her skin.
His eyes darkened.
"But you'll never be free of me."
Her heart pounded violently in her chest.
She was trapped.
Completely and utterly trapped.
---
See you in next chapter