CHAPTER 12
"The Day the Past Came Back for Her, and for Me"
The morning sun slanted softly through the windows, brushing against Lena as she followed me silently into the car. Her hair caught the light in copper strands, her eyes still heavy with the residue of last night, the tremor in her hands, the way her breath had hitched under me, the whispers of my name that had carved straight through my control.
But today… today I needed her elsewhere. Away from the office. Away from every predictable path Jonah might anticipate. Even if she didn't know why yet, even if she had no idea how tightly danger clung to her.
"Where are we going?" Her voice broke the silence, soft, uncertain.
"A site inspection," I answered, voice flat. "And you're coming."
She frowned, confusion creasing her delicate features. "But… Mr. Cole, my tasks..."
"You'll do them later," I cut off sharply. "I said you're coming."
I watched irritation flash across her face. Good. Anger was better than fear. Anger meant she wasn't cowering. And today, she had to be brave.
At the construction site, the initial moments passed smoothly. Engineers hustled along the half-finished floors, the scent of wet cement and sawdust heavy in the air. Staff bowed lightly as I strode by, their murmurs fading behind me. Lena remained close, dutifully scribbling notes. But she grew too curious, too independent for a second, and took one step too far, just a few feet. Just enough.
"Lena." My voice snapped across the open space like a whip.
She froze. "I didn't go far… I was just checking the measurement—"
"You don't move unless I tell you to."
The words were sharper than I intended. I didn't want to scare her, but the edges of my control, the need to protect her, the old, buried fear, twisted inside me. Fear I thought I had left behind.
"I'm not your child," she muttered under her breath.
My body reacted before my mind could stop it. "Say that again."
Her jaw tightened. "I said..I'm not your..."
"Don't test me today," I warned, stepping closer. "Not today."
"Oh my God," she exploded quietly, almost a whisper yet charged with raw emotion, "why are you always like this? One minute you're gentle, the next you're—"
"Enough."
"No! It's not fair. I'm trying—"
"You don't understand what's at stake."
"Then MAKE me understand!" she snapped.
And that did it.
I grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer, the heat of my frustration and fear and obsession radiating between us.
"You think I'm doing this because I enjoy yelling at you?" My voice dropped, low, lethal. "You have no idea what danger you're in."
Her eyes widened, confusion and fear flickering across them. "What danger?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't. Not yet.
Her wrist wrenched free from my grip. "You don't trust me."
"Trust has nothing to do with this," I growled.
"Then what?!" she demanded, voice sharp and shaking.
I stepped back, forcing myself to calm the surge of panic. If I lost control now, I might lose her forever. I thought of the messages. The threats. Jonah. The past clawing its way back into my life.
"Get in the car," I ordered, voice tighter than I meant.
"No," she said stubbornly, refusing.
I turned slowly. "Lena."
"I'm not a puppet," she whispered. "I'm not someone you can just—"
And then the world snapped.
A van tore around the corner with teeth-grinding speed.
"LENA!" I roared, sprinting forward.
She gasped, stumbling back.
One man grabbed her arm. She swung her notebook at him, weak, useless, but she fought, teeth bared, claws out. The second man shoved me hard, and I slammed into a metal railing. Pain shot up my ribs.
"Get your hands off her!" I snarled, barreling forward again.
She screamed, "ETHAN!!"
I lunged, almost reaching her, but the first man yanked her into the van. The sliding door slammed shut with a metallic clang, cutting off the world.
They sped away, before my men could get to where we were.
I chased, full speed, lungs burning, vision narrowing to red.
But the van disappeared. And with it, Lena.
I punched a metal pole, knuckles splitting, tasting blood.
"TRACK THAT VAN!" I shouted into my earpiece. "NOW! NOW! NOW!"
Memories hit me in an avalanche, Jonah's last messages, the threats, the darkness of those years I had tried to bury. The suffocating fear. The helplessness.
Jonah's message arrived, buzzing into my chaos.
Jonah: "Don't worry. I'll take good care of what belongs to you."
Jonah: "Check your inbox."
A photo came through. Lena. Bound. Terrified. Sitting in a dim, cruelly lit room.
My vision blurred. My stomach churned.
"TRACE THE NUMBER!" I bellowed.
"We're trying! He's using unregistered burners, each message comes from a new device—"
I smashed the hood of a car with my fist. "FIND HER!"
---
My men scoured the building's security footage when one whispered, cautious, "Sir… her mother is here."
My chest tightened, a different kind of fear settling in. Not because of the kidnapping. Not because of Jonah.
Because I knew her. I had never forgotten her. Her face etched into memory with precision I hated. The sharp, cruel eyes. The cold smirk. The suffocating control.
My breath hitched. No. It couldn't be.
She walked in, older now, yet unmistakable. Same eyes. Same posture. Same chilling aura of authority. Recognition hit her first. Her mouth trembled. Her skin drained of color.
"You…" she whispered.
A flash of memory hit me like a fist.
I was twelve. She was there. Hands gripping my jaw, voice sharp with insult and derision, words like knives slicing through me. Fear so deep I had thought it permanent. Helpless. Trapped. And now, decades later, the universe had folded the nightmare back into reality.
I staggered slightly, the world tilting. She was the same woman. The woman who had destroyed a piece of my childhood. The woman who was now standing in front of me, facing the daughter I was trying to protect.
"Oh God…" she whispered. "You, You're—"
I said nothing. I just stared. Because the twisted truth had revealed itself in one gut-wrenching second: Lena's mother… was the woman who had abused me, now I've confirmed for real.
The past I had buried, the memories I had tried to choke down, surged back, hotter, sharper, more suffocating than ever. And Lena, unaware, was entwined in this web. My chest felt like it was being crushed, the fear, the rage, the helplessness of twelve-year-old me all converging with the terror of now.
I could see the flicker of shock and horror in her eyes as recognition settled. The staff around us murmured, confused and fearful, but I was locked in the storm of the past and the present.
The van was gone. Lena was gone. And here she was. The woman who had taken everything from me before had now walked back into my life, uninvited, unrepentant, and unstoppable.
I remembered every detail, the cold metal of the room, the way my body had trembled, the way my voice had failed me when I screamed for help. And now, watching Lena's mother freeze at the realization of my presence, I understood the depth of the danger. Jonah wasn't just cruel. He was methodical, and he had a personal vendetta. But so did she.
I...I...I came from the police station, they informed me of my daughters kidnapping at working hour, I was directed here. She said with a faint look.
The past had come back. And it had come back for Lena, and for me.