The city blurred into a streak of neon lights as the SUV roared out of the garage. Isabella sat huddled in the seat, her heart hammering against her ribs so hard it felt bruised. She watched Elias out of the corner of her eye. He was focused, his jaw tight, navigating the narrow backstreets with the precision of a man who had memorized every inch of the city's underbelly.
"Where are we going?" she finally asked, her voice trembling. "Take me to the police station. Or my father's office."
"The police are compromised, and your father's office is the first place they'll look," Elias replied. He didn't look at her. He was busy checking his mirrors, watching for a tail. "We're going to a safe house. Somewhere off the grid."
"A safe house? You mean a hideout." Isabella wrapped her arms around herself, shivering as the adrenaline began to fade, leaving her cold. "I have a life, Elias. I have meetings. I have a gala tomorrow night—"
"You have a target on your back," he interrupted, his voice cutting through her panic like a knife. "The men back there weren't just kidnappers. They were professionals. That means someone gave them your schedule, your security codes, and a reason to take you alive."
The weight of his words hit her like a physical blow. A mole. Someone in her father's inner circle—someone she likely knew—had sold her out.
"Who?" she whispered.
"That's what I'm going to find out. But until I do, your life belongs to me."
He pulled the SUV into a dilapidated warehouse district, eventually stopping in front of a rusted rolling door. With a remote, he opened it and drove inside. The door hissed shut behind them, plunging the car into darkness.
When Elias killed the engine, the silence was deafening. He turned to her, his silhouette tall and imposing in the dim interior light.
"I have three rules, Isabella. One: You don't leave this building without me. Two: You don't use any electronic devices. No phones, no tablets, no social media. They can be tracked."
"And the third rule?" she asked, her voice barely a breath.
Elias leaned across the center console, his hand reaching out. For a second, she thought he was going to touch her cheek, but he simply reached for her seatbelt, unclicking it with a sharp snap.
"Three: You don't fall in love with me. I'm the help, Princess. And I'm not here to be your hero. I'm here to be your shield."
Isabella stared into his cold, gray eyes, her defiance flaring up one last time. "Don't flatter yourself, Mr. Thorne. I don't fall for men who rip my clothes and kidnap me in the middle of the night."
Elias gave a ghost of a smirk—the first sign of humanity she'd seen on his face. "Good. Let's keep it that way."