Elena's POV
"Your family is demanding an investigation into fraud?" I stare at the news article on Marcus's laptop. "What does that mean?"
Vincent's face has gone pale, his jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping. "It means the relatives who murdered my mother just declared war."
The words hang in the air like poison.
"What?" I breathe.
Vincent runs a hand through his platinum hair, looking more shaken than I've seen him. "I told you my mother was killed by her lover. What I didn't tell you was that my uncle—my father's brother—helped plan it. They wanted control of the Rothwell fortune. When I was sixteen, they killed my mother and tried to kill me too."
Marcus closes his laptop quietly, his face grim. He's heard this story before.
"The car accident that supposedly killed me five years ago wasn't an accident," Vincent continues, his voice hollow. "They sabotaged the brakes. I survived, but just barely. I spent months in a hospital under a fake name, and when I recovered, I decided to stay dead. I let the world think old Uncle Vincent—who died of a heart attack around the same time—was still alive and running the company. I became his 'assistant,' working behind the scenes where my family couldn't find me."
I sink back onto the couch, processing this. "So you've been hiding for five years?"
"Hiding and building evidence," Vincent says. "I've been working with investigators, gathering proof of what they did. But I needed time—time to become powerful enough that they couldn't touch me even if they knew I was alive." His gray eyes meet mine. "I was almost ready to expose them. And now someone's forced my hand."
"Who would leak this story?" Marcus asks, but I already know the answer.
"The Castellanos," I say quietly. "Adrian's last text—he warned me that Vincent wasn't who I thought he was. This is their revenge for us threatening them."
Vincent's expression turns murderous. "They exposed me to protect themselves. They knew that once my identity went public, my family would crawl out of the shadows. Now I'm fighting a war on two fronts."
"What will your family do?" I ask, fear creeping into my voice.
"They'll claim I faked my death to steal the inheritance," Vincent says. "They'll say I've been committing fraud, that the company belongs to them. They'll tie everything up in legal battles for years. And if they get desperate..." He trails off, but the implication is clear.
"They'll try to kill you again," I finish.
Vincent nods grimly.
The office door bursts open and two security guards rush in. "Mr. Rothwell, we have a situation. There are reporters surrounding the building and three cars just pulled up with people claiming to be your relatives. They're demanding to see you."
"How did they get here so fast?" Marcus demands.
"They were waiting," Vincent says quietly. "This article didn't just happen. Someone coordinated this—timed the leak, alerted my family, brought in the press. This is an orchestrated attack."
The Castellanos. They're more dangerous than I thought.
My phone buzzes. A text from an unknown number: Feeling overwhelmed yet? Drop everything against us and we'll call off the dogs. Keep fighting and watch your boyfriend get destroyed by his own family. Your choice. -A
Adrian. Still trying to control me.
I show the text to Vincent. His jaw tightens further.
"They think they've won," I say, anger replacing my fear. "They think we'll back down now that you're exposed."
"Will we?" Vincent asks quietly, and there's something vulnerable in his eyes. "Elena, this isn't your fight. You can walk away right now. Take the settlement Rebecca's getting you, start your fashion career, leave all this mess behind. You don't owe me anything."
I look at this man who's been protecting me since we met this morning. This stranger who gave me proof of Vivian's theft, who stood up to the Castellanos, who shared his own painful secrets to make me feel less alone.
"You could have stayed hidden," I say. "You could have sent me the evidence about Vivian anonymously and kept your cover. But you didn't. You revealed yourself to help me, and now you're exposed because of it."
"That wasn't your fault—"
"It doesn't matter whose fault it is," I interrupt. "What matters is that you're in danger because you helped me. So no, I'm not walking away. We're in this together now."
Vincent stares at me for a long moment. "You're sure? My family is dangerous, Elena. The Castellanos are amateurs compared to the Rothwells."
"Then we'd better be smarter than all of them," I say, trying to sound braver than I feel.
A small smile tugs at Vincent's lips—the first real smile I've seen from him. "Marcus, what's our security status?"
"Building's locked down," Marcus reports, typing rapidly. "But boss, we can't stay here forever. Your family has lawyers on the way. They'll get access eventually."
"Then we leave," Vincent decides. "We go somewhere they can't find us while we plan our next move."
"Where?" I ask.
Vincent's smile turns sharp. "My mother's property in Paris. It's in a trust under a name my family doesn't know about. We'll be safe there while we figure out how to fight back."
"Paris?" My heart races. "But that's—"
"Where your stolen property is," Vincent finishes. "The thirty-million-dollar property Margaret tried to transfer to Vivian. Rebecca's team has already frozen the transfer, which means legally, it's still yours. We can stay there while we sort this mess out."
Marcus grins. "That's actually brilliant. Elena has legal right to the property, which means the Rothwell family can't touch you there, boss."
My phone rings. Rebecca Chen's name flashes on the screen. I answer quickly. "Rebecca?"
"Elena, thank God. I just saw the news about Vincent Rothwell." Rebecca sounds stressed. "Are you with him right now?"
"Yes, why?"
"Get away from him immediately," Rebecca says urgently. "I just got a call from the Rothwell family's lawyers. They're claiming Vincent kidnapped you, that he's been manipulating you to get access to your Paris property. They've filed for a restraining order and they're trying to freeze all his assets."
My blood runs cold. "That's insane. He didn't kidnap me—"
"I know that and you know that, but they have resources, Elena. Serious resources. They're painting him as unstable, dangerous, obsessed with you because of your property. The judge is reviewing their petition right now."
Vincent can hear every word. His face has gone hard and cold.
"How long do we have?" he asks loudly enough for Rebecca to hear.
"Mr. Rothwell?" Rebecca sounds surprised he's listening. "Maybe an hour before the restraining order goes through. After that, if you're within a hundred feet of Elena, you'll be arrested."
"Then we have fifty-nine minutes," Vincent says calmly. "Elena, are you coming to Paris with me or not?"
It's a crazy question. I've known this man for less than twelve hours. His family is trying to destroy him. The Castellanos are trying to destroy both of us. Running away to Paris sounds like something from a movie, not real life.
But staying here means facing Adrian, Margaret, Vivian, and now the Rothwell family. Staying here means fighting alone.
"I'm coming," I say.
"Elena, wait—" Rebecca starts, but I hang up.
Vincent's already moving, grabbing his phone and wallet. "Marcus, activate Protocol Seven. Wipe the office computers and destroy any physical evidence of where we're going. Meet us in Paris in three days."
"On it, boss." Marcus is already pulling hard drives from computers.
Vincent takes my hand. "We need to move. Now. My private jet is fueled and ready at the airport, but we have maybe forty minutes before someone thinks to ground it."
We run for the elevator. My heart pounds so hard I can barely breathe. This is insane. I'm running away to Paris with a man I barely know, hiding from both our families, with no plan beyond "survive."
The elevator doors close. Vincent squeezes my hand. "Thank you for trusting me."
"Thank you for giving me someone to trust," I reply.
My phone buzzes one more time. A text from Vivian:
Running away won't save you, sis. I know about Paris. I know about Mom's property. And I know about the real reason you can never go back there. See you soon. -V
The real reason I can never go back to Paris?
Ice floods my veins. I haven't been to my mother's Paris property since I was seven years old. Since the summer before she died. Since the summer something happened that I've spent twenty years trying to forget.
"Elena?" Vincent notices my face. "What's wrong?"
I show him the text with shaking hands.
"What does she mean?" Vincent asks. "What happened in Paris?"
The elevator doors open to the parking garage. Vincent's car waits, engine running, driver ready.
"I don't know," I whisper, but that's a lie.
I do know. Deep down, buried under years of trying to forget, I know exactly what Vivian's talking about.
The summer I was seven, something terrible happened at that Paris property. Something involving my mother. Something that ended with screaming and blood and my mother sending me away, telling me to never speak about it, to forget it ever happened.
I did forget. I forced myself to forget.
But Vivian remembers. Or worse—she found proof.
And now I'm running toward the one place I swore I'd never return to, with secrets waiting that might destroy me more thoroughly than any of my enemies ever could.
Vincent opens the car door for me. "Elena? We need to go. Now."
I look back at the building—at my old life, my old fears, everything I'm leaving behind.
Then I look at Vincent—at this dangerous, damaged man who's somehow become my only ally in a war I never asked to fight.
"Let's go," I say, climbing into the car.
As we speed toward the airport, my phone buzzes with one final message from an unknown number:
The past always catches up, Elena. Paris remembers what you've forgotten. And this time, there's nowhere left to run. -Someone Who Was There
Someone who was there. Twenty years ago. At the Paris property. When whatever happened... happened.
I turn off my phone with shaking hands.
Vincent notices but doesn't ask. He just takes my hand and holds it as we race toward a future I can't predict and a past I can't escape.
Behind us, sirens wail. Someone's already trying to stop us.
Ahead of us, Paris waits with secrets I buried so deep I almost believed they didn't exist.
And somewhere in the middle, I have to figure out who I really am beneath all the lies everyone's told about me—including the lies I've told myself.