Elena's POV
I can't stop staring at the photos on my phone. Me at the grocery store. Me walking to my car. Me sleeping in my bed.
Someone has been watching me for weeks. Maybe months. And I never knew.
"We need to leave," Adrian says, his doctor voice gone, replaced by something raw and scared. "Right now. All of us. This house isn't safe anymore."
"Where would we go?" I whisper. My voice sounds broken. I feel broken. "He knows where I am. He's been following me everywhere."
"A hotel," Marcus suggests. "Under fake names. Somewhere he can't—"
"He'll find us," Daniel interrupts. His face is hard, determined. Different from the distant man I've been living with. "If he's been watching this long, he has resources. Money. Connections. Running won't help."
"So what do we do?" I ask, and I hate how small my voice sounds. "Pay him? Give him a million dollars we don't have?"
Daniel's jaw clenches. "We don't have a million dollars in cash. But even if we did, paying won't stop him. Men like this? They always come back for more."
"How do you know?" Adrian challenges.
"Because I've met men like him," Daniel says quietly. "In business. The ones who see weakness and exploit it. The ones who take and take until there's nothing left. If we pay him, he'll just demand more. And then more. Until we're bled dry."
"Or until he takes me anyway," I finish, my stomach twisting with nausea.
The silence that follows confirms what I already know. This man—Jenna's brother, whoever he is—doesn't just want money. He wants to own me. To control me. And nothing we do will stop him unless we stop him first.
"I'm calling the police," Marcus says, pulling out his phone.
"No!" I grab his arm. "He said if we involve the police—"
"I don't care what he said," Marcus growls. "This is kidnapping. Stalking. We have evidence—"
"Evidence that also exposes us," Daniel reminds him grimly. "The moment we go to the police, they'll ask questions. They'll want to hear those recordings. They'll want to know why someone's blackmailing us. And then our whole arrangement comes out anyway."
He's right. We're trapped. If we go to the police, we expose ourselves. If we don't, this psycho takes me.
My phone buzzes again. My hands shake so badly I almost drop it.
A new message: Stop planning and start packing, Elena. You have 12 hours to bring me the money. Midnight. I'll text you the location. Come alone, or the recordings go to everyone you know. And trust me—what I have planned for you is so much worse than embarrassment. —C
Twelve hours. Midnight. That's when my life ends.
"We need to find out who he is," Adrian says. "His real name. Where he lives. Something we can use against him."
"How?" I ask desperately. "We don't even know his last name. Just that he's Jenna's brother."
Marcus's eyes light up. "Jenna. We can make her tell us."
"She's working with him," Daniel points out. "She's not going to just give him up."
"Maybe she doesn't know how far he's planning to take this," Marcus argues. "Maybe she thinks it's just about scaring Elena. Not actually kidnapping her."
It's a thin hope. But it's something.
"I'll call her," I say, reaching for my phone.
"No," Daniel stops me. "If you call, she'll know we're scared. She'll have power. Let me call. From my phone. Make it seem like I'm still planning to meet her alone."
He dials before any of us can argue. The phone rings once. Twice. Three times.
Then Jenna answers, her voice tight. "I told you not to bring anyone—"
"Your brother contacted us," Daniel cuts her off. "Changed the deal. Now he wants money and my wife. Did you know about that, Jenna? Did you know he's been stalking Elena?"
Silence. Heavy. Shocked.
"What are you talking about?" Jenna finally asks, but her voice wavers. "Cameron wouldn't—"
"Cameron," Daniel repeats, locking eyes with me. Now we have a name. "Your brother Cameron sent us photos of Elena sleeping. Through her bedroom window. He's demanding a million dollars by midnight or he's taking her. Did you know about that?"
"No." Jenna's voice is barely a whisper. "No, that's not... we were just supposed to scare you. Make you stop the arrangement. He said—he promised it was just about protecting Elena—"
"He lied," Daniel says flatly. "And now your 'protection' has put my wife in real danger. So here's what's going to happen, Jenna. You're going to tell us everything about Cameron. Where he lives. What he does. How he got involved in this. And you're going to help us stop him."
"I can't," Jenna says, and now she's crying. "He's my brother. He's all I have left after our parents died. If I betray him—"
"Then Elena gets kidnapped," Marcus snarls, grabbing the phone from Daniel. "And that'll be on you, Jenna. Every single thing that happens to her will be your fault. Can you live with that?"
More crying. Then: "He's staying at the Morrison Hotel. Room 412. He's been there for three weeks, watching the house. Planning everything."
"What does he want with Elena?" Adrian demands. "The truth, Jenna."
A long pause. Then Jenna's voice comes out broken and terrified: "He runs an underground club. For wealthy men. Where they... where they pay to be with women who don't have a choice. He's been looking for someone new. Someone beautiful and innocent. When I told him about Elena, about the arrangement, he saw an opportunity. He said if he could prove she was already willing to be shared, he could command a higher price for her."
The room spins. My legs give out and Marcus catches me before I hit the floor.
"He's going to sell me," I whisper. "To multiple men. Like I'm property."
"Over my dead body," Daniel says, and his voice is pure steel.
"He won't let her go easy," Jenna warns. "Cameron has connections. Dangerous people. If you try to stop him—"
"We'll deal with it," Marcus interrupts. "What room did you say?"
"412. But he's not there now. He left an hour ago. Said he had to check on something."
My blood runs cold. "Check on what?"
Jenna's next words freeze my heart: "He said he was going to visit my apartment. To make sure everything was ready for Elena's arrival. He's... he's been preparing a room there. With chains."
The phone slips from Marcus's hand.
We all stare at each other, horror dawning on our faces.
"He's at Jenna's apartment," Adrian breathes. "Right now. Setting up a prison."
"Which means her apartment is empty," Daniel says slowly. "We could go there. Find evidence. Something to use against him."
"Or walk right into a trap," I point out, my voice shaking.
Marcus picks up the phone. "Jenna. Does Cameron have cameras in your apartment?"
"Yes," she admits. "In every room. He insisted on it. Said it was for security."
"So he'll see us coming," Adrian says.
"Not if we cut the power first," Marcus counters. "I'm an architect. I know how to kill electricity to a specific apartment without touching the breakers. Give me ten minutes and I can get us in dark."
"This is insane," I say. "We should call the police—"
"And tell them what?" Daniel challenges. "That a man we can't prove has done anything illegal might be planning to kidnap you? With no evidence except our word? They'll think we're crazy."
"We need proof," Adrian agrees. "Real proof. And if Cameron's apartment has chains, cameras, evidence of his trafficking operation—that's proof."
"If we get caught—" I start.
"We won't," Marcus promises, but his eyes tell a different story. He's terrified. We all are.
My phone buzzes one more time. A video file this time. My hands shake as I open it.
The screen shows a small room. Concrete walls. A mattress on the floor. And chains bolted to the wall.
Cameron's voice plays over the video: "Your new home, Elena. I hope you like it. You'll be spending a lot of time here. Unless, of course, you bring me my money. See you at midnight, beautiful."
The video ends with him blowing a kiss at the camera.
I'm going to be sick.
"We're going to Jenna's apartment," Daniel says, and his voice leaves no room for argument. "We're finding evidence. And we're ending this tonight."
"What if he comes back while we're there?" I whisper.
Daniel's eyes meet mine, and for the first time in two years, I see the man I married. The fighter. The protector.
"Then we end him instead," he says simply.
My phone buzzes again. But this time, it's not from Cameron.
It's from an unknown number—a different one: You're not the only one Cameron's targeting. He has three other women locked up already. If you want to save them and yourself, meet me at Sal's Diner on 5th Street. 30 minutes. Come alone. I have information that can destroy him. —A friend who actually cares