6
A sharp, pounding headache greeted Selene as she drifted back to consciousness. The world around her was dark, the air thick with the scent of dust and damp wood. She tried to move, but her wrists were bound, her ankles restrained. The cold bite of zip ties dug into her skin.
Panic shot through her veins like ice.
Where the hell was she?
The last thing she remembered was breaking into Roger Stanton's office. The email. The name—someone she hadn't expected.
And then… someone had been there.
A door creaked open, and dim light spilled into the room.
Selene forced herself to keep her breathing steady as footsteps approached. A shadow loomed over her, and then, finally, she saw his face.
Elliot Grayson.
Her pulse spiked. "You?"
Elliot sighed, crouching beside her. He was dressed the same as before—crisp suit, expensive watch. But now, there was something different about him. A coldness in his eyes.
"I warned you, Selene," he said, almost gently. "I told you to stop digging."
Rage coiled in her stomach. "You—" She clenched her fists, struggling against the restraints. "You were working with them?"
A flicker of something—guilt, maybe—crossed his face, but it was gone as quickly as it came.
"I did what I had to," he said. "Just like you're trying to do now."
Selene let out a bitter laugh. "You really think that justifies betraying your best friend? Letting Adrian rot while you—" She cut herself off, swallowing the wave of nausea that accompanied her anger.
Elliot exhaled, running a hand down his face. "You don't understand."
"Then help me understand," she snapped. "Who the hell are you working for?"
Silence stretched between them. Then, finally, he murmured, "Victor Langley isn't the one pulling the strings."
Selene's stomach twisted. "Then who?"
Elliot hesitated. "It doesn't matter. You've already seen too much."
Selene's blood ran cold. He wasn't here to scare her. He was here to make sure she didn't leave.
She forced herself to stay calm. "You don't have to do this, Elliot."
A bitter smile touched his lips. "I didn't have a choice, Selene. Neither did Adrian."
Something in his voice made her pause. There was regret there—real regret.
Her mind raced. She could use that.
"If you didn't have a choice," she said carefully, "then that means someone forced you into this. You can still fix it."
Elliot let out a hollow laugh. "Fix it? Do you have any idea what they'll do to me if I help you?"
Selene met his gaze, unwavering. "Do you have any idea what they'll do to me if you don't?"
Elliot was silent.
Selene's heart pounded. Come on, Elliot. Give me something.
Then, after what felt like an eternity, he sighed and stood up. "I'll think about it."
He turned to leave.
Selene's pulse roared in her ears. This might be her only chance.
"If you walk away now," she said, her voice firm, "you'll be no better than them."
Elliot stiffened.
For a second, she thought he would ignore her and leave.
But then, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small knife, and tossed it onto the floor near her hands.
His voice was barely above a whisper. "Get out of here before I change my mind."
Then, he was gone.
The Escape
Selene wasted no time. She shuffled her hands toward the knife, twisting her fingers awkwardly until she grasped the handle. Focus. She positioned the blade against the zip tie on her wrists and sawed as quickly as she could.
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. If Elliot wasn't the only one involved in this, someone else could walk in at any second.
The plastic snapped.
She ripped the tie off and scrambled to her feet, working on her ankles next. Within seconds, she was free.
Her surroundings came into focus. A storage room. Old, rusted metal shelves lined the walls, filled with cleaning supplies and discarded office equipment.
She rushed to the door, cracked it open. The hallway was empty.
Where am I?
There were no windows, but the industrial feel of the place made her guess a warehouse. Maybe one that belonged to Langley's company.
She needed to get out before someone realized Elliot had let her go.
The Chase
Selene moved fast, keeping to the shadows as she slipped through the maze of hallways. She found a staircase and took it down to the ground floor.
The second she stepped outside, the night air hit her like a slap. Freedom.
She didn't stop to savor it. She ran.
But she hadn't made it ten steps before a voice shouted behind her.
"There she is!"
Shit.
Selene sprinted toward the alley, adrenaline surging through her veins. She didn't know where she was going—all she knew was that she had to get away.
Footsteps thundered behind her. Two men. Maybe three.
She ducked into another alley, heart pounding, and slammed into someone solid.
A strong hand clamped over her mouth before she could scream.
"Relax, sweetheart," a familiar voice murmured.
Damian.
Her relief was so sudden, so intense, she nearly collapsed.
His other hand steadied her. "Come on. Let's get you the hell out of here."
He pulled her into a side street, leading her to a sleek black car parked nearby.
They climbed in, and the second the doors shut, he peeled out onto the road, leaving the men in the alley behind.
Selene slumped back against the seat, gasping for breath.
Damian shot her a sideways glance. "You wanna tell me what the hell you just got yourself into?"
Selene exhaled. "Elliot was working with them. But it's not just Victor."
Damian's grip tightened on the wheel. "Who?"
She hesitated, her mind flashing back to that email, to the name that had nearly stopped her heart.
Then, finally, she whispered, "Roger Stanton."
Damian swore under his breath.
Selene swallowed hard. "Adrian didn't just get framed. He got silenced."
Damian's jaw clenched. "And Stanton made sure of it."
Selene nodded. "And if we don't move fast, we'll be next."
Silence filled the car, thick with the weight of what came next.
Then, Damian smirked, eyes glinting with something dark and dangerous.
"Then let's make sure we get to him first."