Chapter 49

Brenda’s POV

Something felt wrong.

Very wrong.

The safe room was supposed to feel secure, like a barrier between me and the chaos outside, like being wrapped in concrete and steel.

But instead...

It felt suffocating. Like a tomb.

The silence wasn’t comforting. It was heavy.

Oppressive and watchful.

Like something was waiting on the other side of the door, holding its breath.

I wrapped my arms around myself tightly, pacing the length of the room for what felt like the hundredth time. My footsteps echoed faintly against the reinforced walls, the sound too loud in the stillness, announcing my fear to whatever was listening.

“Calm down,” I whispered to myself, my voice cracking.

“Just... calm down.”

But it wasn’t working.

My thoughts refused to settle. They were shards of glass in my brain.

They kept drifting back to him.

Damian.

Was he okay?

Was he hurt?

Was he out there right now, fighting, bleeding?

The thought made my stomach lurch.

A sharp breath caught in my throat.

Why did I care so much? Why did the idea of him getting hurt make me feel like I couldn’t breathe?

I stopped pacing abruptly, pressing my hand against my chest, trying to physically hold my heart in place.

My heart was racing again—fast, uneven, relentless. A hummingbird trapped in my ribs.

“This doesn’t make sense,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head.

“I don’t.."

The words died before I could finish them.

Because deep down...

I already knew.

And that terrified me more than the gunshots above ever could. Because bullets I understood. This, I didn’t.

“Get a hold of yourself, Brenda,” I whispered firmly, forcing my shoulders to straighten, forcing my spine to lock.

This wasn’t the time.

This wasn’t the place.

I needed to think, I needed to stay focused and to survive.

Then—

A sound.

Soft.

Faint.

Metallic.

So subtle I almost convinced myself it wasn’t real, that it was just the building settling.

I froze.

Every muscle in my body went rigid, locking into place.

My breath caught in my throat and stayed there, burning.

I turned slowly toward the door, every nerve ending alight.

Silence, nothing. But just the hum of the ventilation.

I swallowed hard, my throat clicking.

Maybe it was just my imagination.

The stress.

The fear.

The air vents.

Then—

There it was again.

A metallic click.

Distinct.

Intentional.

My blood ran cold instantly, like ice water had been poured into my veins.

No.

No, no, no.

I took a slow step back, my eyes locked onto the door as if it might suddenly come alive, as if staring at it would keep it closed.

“Someone’s there,” I whispered.

My voice sounded small.

Uncertain. Like a child’s voice.

But my instincts screamed the truth.

They were screaming: Run

Another click.

Louder this time.

More deliberate.

Closer.

My heart slammed violently against my ribs, trying to escape.

“They found me.”

Panic surged through me like a wave, threatening to pull me under, to drown me where I stood.

I looked around the room desperately, my eyes wild.

Think.

Think.

Think I said to myself

There had to be something I could do.

Anything.

A weapon, a panel, a vent.

But there was nothing.

No weapons.

No hidden exits.

No way out.

Just walls.

Cold, unforgiving walls.

A gilded cage.

Another sound.

The handle moved slightly. A millimeter. But it moved.

My stomach dropped into a freefall.

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, hot and immediate, but I clenched my jaw, forcing them back.

No.

Not now.

Crying wouldn’t save me.

Fear wouldn’t save me.

Only I could save me.

I had to do something.

Anything.

My breathing grew shallow as I stepped back further, my body instinctively moving away from the door, until my shoulders hit the wall behind me.

Then, it burst open.

The sound shattered the silence completely, a detonation in the small room.

I gasped, stumbling back as three men stormed into the room, their movements fluid and practiced.

Armed.

Dangerous looking

Their presence filled the space instantly, suffocating, overwhelming. The room that felt too big a moment ago was now too small.

One of them looked at me and smiled. It wasn’t a kind smile. It was the smile of a wolf that found a rabbit.

“Well, well...” he drawled, his voice laced with amusement. “There she is. The boss’s new favorite toy.”

My pulse spiked violently, my vision tunneling.

I shook my head, pressing myself harder into the wall as if I could melt through it.

“Stay away from me!”

They laughed.

Actually laughed.

The sound made my skin crawl, made bile rise in my throat.

“You think you have a choice?” another one said, his tone mocking, stepping to my left to cut off the room.

My back hit the wall.

No more space.

No more distance.

Trapped.

Again.

The same helpless position I swore I’d never be in again. The same feeling from when I was kidnapped.

“Boss wants you alive,” the first man added, taking a step closer, his gun lowering but his hand reaching out. “So don’t make this harder than it has to be. Don’t make me hurt you.”

Fear wrapped around me tightly, threatening to crush me, to make my knees buckle.

But beneath it, something else stirred.

Something stronger.

Hotter and defiant.

A spark Damian had put there.

No.

I wasn’t going to go down like this.

Not again.

Not without a fight.

Not when he was fighting for me up there.

“No.”

The word came out firm.

Stronger than I expected. Stronger than I felt.

The man paused, clearly surprised. His eyebrows rose.

Then his grin widened, ugly and eager.

“Oh, I like this one. She’s got fire.”

He took another step forward.

Reaching. Closing the distance.

His fingers inches from my arm.

My mind raced, time slowing to a crawl.

One second. That’s all I needed. Just one.

He lunged.

And I moved.

My hand grabbed the nearest object—a heavy metal lamp from the table beside me, the cord ripping from the wall.

I didn’t think.

Didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t aim.

I threw it with everything I had, with every ounce of terror and rage in my body.

It hit him square in the face.

Hard. A sickening crunch of metal on bone.

He staggered back with a curse, a roar of pain, blood instantly appearing where the impact landed, pouring from his nose.

“Bitch!”

But it worked.

It gave me a moment.

A single, precious second.

A window.

And I used it.

I ran.

Past them, ducking under an arm.

Toward the open door, toward the darkness.

My heart pounding, my legs moving faster than they ever had before, fueled by pure adrenaline.

I didn’t look back.

Didn’t stop and I couldn't breathe.

Because I knew, if they caught me again...

I might not get another chance.

Lorenzo wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

And somewhere above...

In the chaos...

In the smoke and the gunfire...

There was only one thought in my mind. One name on my lips.

Damian.