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Alex was exhausted. His eyes burned from hours of staring at files, hospital records, and confidential lists he shouldn't have had access to.
Alex leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples.
His apartment was a mess: coffee cups, crumpled papers, laptop screens glowing with names and numbers.
He'd been at it for almost twenty-four hours straight, running on nothing but stubbornness and the image of Elena's hopeful eyes when she told him about her aunt.
He grabbed his phone. His thumb hovered over her number. He hesitated for a second— then he hit "Call."
The line rang. Once. Twice.
"Elena?"
Her soft voice came through the speaker, cautious. "Alex? Hi… are you okay?"
Alex laughed dryly, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Do I sound okay? I've been running around like a lunatic. Hospitals, clinics, fake names, transfers. I swear, your aunt is hidden better than some criminals."
Her heart squeezed with guilt. "I'm sorry, Alex. You shouldn't be doing all of this for me. I feel like I dragged you into something dangerous—"
He cut her off gently. "Hey. Don't apologize. I chose this. And besides…" His voice softened. "…I'll be fine. I'll be more than fine if you have lunch with me."
Her eyes widened. She almost dropped the phone. "W-What? Lunch?"
"Yeah. At my place." His tone was casual, but beneath it was a subtle insistence. "Not in some crowded restaurant where every ear is listening.
Just… my place. Quiet. Safe. Just food and conversation. You need a break. I need a break."
Elena froze. The first thought that rushed through her mind was Damian.
His piercing eyes. His threats. His warnings. If he ever found out… Her stomach twisted. "Alex, I can't. You don't understand, it's—"
He sighed on the other end, pretending disappointment but playing his cards right.
"Right. I should've known. You don't trust me. Even after everything I've been doing for you."
Her chest tightened. "No, that's not it—"
"I get it," Alex cut in smoothly. "I'm just some investigator.
I'll keep running myself into the ground, digging through shadows, while you sit there worrying about things you're not even telling me. It's fine, Elena. Don't worry about me."
She closed her eyes. Guilt hit her harder than ever. "Alex…"
Then his voice, soft, tired, but steady: "It's just lunch, Elena. Not a date. Not a game.
Just you, me, and food. You have my word. And if it makes it easier, think of it as my… fee. Payment. You give me one hour, I keep helping. Simple as that."
Her heart thudded. Damian's face flashed in her mind again. His fury. His possessiveness. His threats. If he knew…
But Alex's voice came again, calmer, hopeful. "Please."
She bit her lip hard, pacing in her room. This was insane. She shouldn't. She couldn't.
And yet… he was helping her. He was the only person risking something real for her aunt.
He'd already uncovered things she never would've found alone. And maybe… just maybe… Damian would never know.
Elena swallowed. "Fine."
Alex sat up straight in his chair, a small smile curving on his lips for the first time in days. "Fine?"
"Don't make me repeat myself," she muttered.
"Alright," he said softly. Just come hungry."
When the call ended, Elena sat frozen on her bed, phone in hand, staring at the ceiling.
Her heart raced. Her chest felt tight. She knew she was walking on dangerous ground.
***
Damian was in his office when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening when he saw the name.
"Isabel."
Her voice came quick, urgent, too sweet.
"Damian, you need to come. Your mother isn't okay. She needs you."
Without another word, he stood, grabbing his jacket.
Viktor tried to ask something, but Damian only raised his hand, eyes dark, and walked out.
Minutes later, his car pulled into the family mansion.
He stepped out, his movements fast, sharp, his expression hard as stone. He stormed into the living room, his voice echoing.
"Mother!"
Irina came out, calm but tired. She smiled faintly, as if to soothe him.
"I'm fine, Damian."
"You didn't have to call him Isabel"
She said glaring at isabel.
But Damian saw it—the redness in his mother's eyes, the faint trail where tears had been.
That was enough to ignite the rage in him. His fists clenched at his side. He turned, his gaze falling on Isabel.
She was standing there, perfectly dressed, her lips curved into a soft smile.
"She's telling the truth Damian.
She's fine now. I was there. I handled it."
His stare was cold, unreadable, but he said nothing. Irina touched his arm lightly, whispering,
"Don't worry, son. I'll rest now." Then she turned and walked back toward her room, Damian held her hands leading her gently to her room.
Then his mother asked. "When did Isabel get back? I really don't want you to hurt Elena's feelings" Irina said holding his hands as she laid on her bed.
"Take a nap mother" he placed a kiss on her forehead nd walked out of her room and headed downstairs. Isabel was still there.
The silence was thick. Isabel's heart raced—waiting, hoping. Then his voice came low, deep, almost a growl.
"Thank you… Bel."
The old name. The one he hadn't used in years.
Isabel's eyes widened, shock flashing across her face before a smile spread, slow and victorious.
She didn't waste a second. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself tight against his chest making sure her mounds pressed on him.
But he didn't move. He didn't hug her back. His body was stiff, his face expressionless, his eyes already far away.
After a moment, he pulled back, leaving her arms empty.
Without looking back at her, he walked out, his phone already in his hand. His voice was sharp, merciless.
"Listen carefully. I want every woman who made my mother shed a single tear to regret it. Make sure they suffer. Every. Single. One. Of them."
"Yes, sir," his PA answered quickly.
Damian ended the call, his eyes hard as steel, the image of his mother's tears burning in his chest.
He didn't care who they were, what position they held, or how much they begged later. They would pay.
Behind him, Isabel stood in the hallway, her smile small but curling with satisfaction. He had called her Bel. That was enough for now.
***
Elena stood in front of her mirror, hands smoothing down the light dress she had chosen.
She had curled her hair just slightly, her lips painted with the faintest shade of pink.
She looked at herself, drawing in a breath. I just need air. Just a little freedom, just for once, she told herself.
Taking her small purse, she walked out of her room. Her steps were fast, determined, like someone running away from a cage even if only for a few hours.
When she reached the grand hallway, she saw the butler, standing tall and strict near the door, as if he had been expecting her.
His hands were neatly folded in front of him, his posture rigid, his eyes watchful.
"Miss Elena," he said, bowing his head slightly. "Where are you headed?"
Elena swallowed, her heart thumping, but her face showed no hesitation. "I'm going out," she said simply, taking another step forward.
But the butler shifted, moving smoothly to block the doorway.
"I'm sorry, Miss, but I wasn't given permission to let you leave. Master Damian's orders are clear." His voice was polite, but firm.
Her brows shot up. "Excuse me?" she asked sharply. "You're telling me I need his permission to breathe now?"
The butler's gaze didn't falter. "I am only following orders, Miss Elena."
Elena bit her lip. Anger curled in her chest, but so did panic. If Damian came back and found her trying to sneak out, it would only lead to disaster.
She tilted her head, letting her voice drip with sarcasm.
"Orders? Right. Because Damian Volkov is the king of the world and we all must bow, hm?
Tell me, do you also report when I sneeze, or is that not in your job description?"
The butler's lips twitched as though he was fighting not to smile, but his stance remained firm.
"I take care of this household and I obey the master's instructions."
"Good for you," Elena shot back. She took one step closer, her eyes narrowing.
"But you'll also obey mine right now. Damian's mother just called me. She wants me to come to her.
Are you really going to stand here and stop his mother's guest from stepping out when she's been summoned?"
The butler's eyes flickered, his composure wavering for just a second. He cleared his throat. "Madam Irina called you?"
"Yes," Elena lied smoothly, her tongue quick, her chin lifted high. "Do you want me to call her in front of you?
Maybe ask if I should tell Damian that his loyal butler refused to let me visit his mother when she requested my company?"
The butler's shoulders straightened, his jaw tightening. He could already imagine Damian's fury if he truly prevented Elena from seeing Irina.
After a long pause, he finally stepped aside, bowing his head again. "Very well, Miss Elena. Please… be safe."
Elena smiled sweetly, victorious, though her heart was still pounding in her chest. "Thank you," she said lightly, brushing past him with her head held high.