Days passed, and silence became Eliora's refuge.
She didn't ignore Alexander because she no longer cared.
She ignored him because caring had begun to terrify her.
Every morning, she woke with his name already on her lips and guilt heavy in her chest. Every night, she lay awake questioning herself questioning him, questioning love itself.
What if he leaves after he's taken what he wants?
What if I'm only something beautiful to pass the time?
What if I'm wrong about him?
Her mother's worry echoed louder with every unanswered call. Emilia's insinuations lingered like poison she hadn't realized she was swallowing.
"You don't really know men like that," Emilia had said once, casually.
"They know how to say everything you want to hear."
Eliora told herself Alexander was different.
But fear is louder than logic when love grows too fast.
So she stopped replying.
One missed call became two.
Two became days.
And every time her phone lit up with his name, her heart shattered a little more.
Alexander unraveled quietly at first.
He tried patience. He tried understanding. He told himself she needed space. He told himself not to pressure her.
But the silence gnawed at him.
He stopped sleeping. Food tasted like nothing. Work became a blur of meetings he barely registered. He replayed every conversation, every pause, every hesitation, wondering where he had failed her.
He drank more than he should have.
One glass of whiskey turned into several. Then another bottle. The burn in his throat did nothing to numb the ache in his chest.
When the alcohol didn't help, he reached for cigarettes—something he rarely did, something he hated about himself. Smoke curled around him as he stared out over the city from his penthouse, jaw clenched tight.
Nothing worked.
The distance was driving him mad.
Not because he wanted to control her—but because the thought of losing her felt unbearable.
Like someone had taken something that already belonged to his soul.
That night, he sent the message.
My love, why have you been ignoring me for days now?
I've tried calling and texting so many times.
I love you so much, my Eliora.
I will show you more love than you could ever ask for.
My words, my actions, my thoughts about you are genuine.
Your smile brings light into my life.
Please talk to me.
When her phone chimed, Eliora was sitting alone at the bar
She read every word.
Tears blurred her vision, her chest tight with emotion she couldn't control. She pressed the phone to her heart, shaking, then placed it face down beside her.
She didn't reply.
And that silence broke something inside Alexander completely.
He got into his car without thinking.
The drive that usually took an hour blurred into flashing lights and roaring speed. His mind was too consumed by one thought:
I need to see her.
Not to accuse.
Not to demand.
Just to know she was okay.
He didn't realize how reckless he was being until it was too late.
What Alexander didn't know was that Emilia had already moved.
She had been watching closely Eliora's withdrawal, Alexander's desperation. Distance had cracked the door open.
Emilia pushed it wider.
She had paid someone. Someone who blended into the background, someone Eliora would never suspect. She orchestrated the moment carefully, disguising concern as kindness.
When she brought food to Eliora's workplace, she smiled warmly.
"You've barely eaten lately," she said. "I thought you might like this."
Eliora accepted it without suspicion.
Trust is dangerous when it's misplaced.
Within minutes, her body betrayed her. Her limbs felt heavy. Her thoughts blurred. The room tilted.
She whispered Alexander's name without realizing it.
From across the street, Alexander watched.
He had just arrived too late to stop what was unfolding, but not too late to follow.
Across the street, Alexander's heart dropped.
He had arrived moments earlier, his car barely settled when he saw her sway, saw her reach for balance that never came. Panic ripped through him instantly, sharp and unforgiving.
Then he saw the man.
Calm. Too calm.
The stranger moved with practiced ease, slipping an arm around Eliora's shoulders as though this was familiar, acceptable. As though she had asked for help.
She hadn't.
Alexander knew it.
Eliora's lips parted, and through the glass and distance, he saw her whisper something her face crumpling slightly as tears welled.
"Alex…" she murmured.
The name hit him like a gunshot.
The man leaned close, murmured something Alexander couldn't hear, and guided her toward a waiting car.
Alexander's body moved before thought caught up.
He followed.
The streets blurred.
Traffic lights meant nothing. Distance meant nothing. All Alexander could see was the car ahead, the fragile life inside it, slipping farther from his reach with every second.
Don't lose her.
The car stopped at a hotel anonymous, quiet, forgettable. The kind of place secrets disappeared into.
Alexander parked across the street, chest heaving, every instinct screaming danger.
He watched the man support Eliora inside.
Watched her stumble.
Watched her head fall against the stranger's shoulder as if she had no strength left to hold herself upright.
That was when fear turned into fury.
Inside the hotel, Eliora's awareness flickered in and out.
The lights were too bright. The hallway too long. The floor beneath her feet felt unstable, as if it were moving. She clutched weakly at the sleeve beside her.
"Alex?" she whispered again.
The man didn't answer.
He only tightened his grip and kept walking.
Somewhere deep inside her, instinct screamed that something was wrong—but her body wouldn't listen.
The door opened.
The room smelled unfamiliar.
Cold.
She was lowered onto the edge of the bed, her vision swimming, panic finally piercing through the haze. Her heart raced, fear cutting through the fog.
"No…" she breathed, trying to push herself back.
That was when the door exploded open.
The sound was thunder.
The man turned just as Alexander stormed in, his presence filling the room like a force of nature unleashed. His eyes were dark, wild not drunk, not reckless but driven by something primal and absolute.
"Step away from her."
The command wasn't shouted.
It didn't need to be.
The stranger froze.
Eliora lifted her head weakly, tears spilling as she saw him.
"Alex…"
He was at her side in an instant, one arm around her shoulders, grounding her, anchoring her to reality. Her body sagged into his chest as if it had been waiting for him all along.
Alexander didn't look away from the man.
"Now."
What happened next was fast.
Controlled.
Decisive.
When Alexander turned back to Eliora, his hands were gentle again, brushing her hair from her face, checking her breathing, whispering reassurance she barely registered.
"You're safe," he murmured. "I've got you. I won't let anything happen to you."
She clung to him, fingers curling weakly into his shirt.
"I thought I lost you," he whispered, voice breaking despite his control.
He carried her out himself.
Past the front desk.
Past curious glances.
Out into the night air that felt too cold and too real.
He laid her carefully in the car, fastening the seatbelt with hands that trembled despite his efforts to stay calm.
As he drove, his jaw clenched tight.
Questions burned through him.
But answers could wait.
Right now, only one thing mattered.
Eliora.
Her hair fanned across the pillow like spilled ink. Her face—soft, vulnerable, untouched by the cruelty meant for her.
Alexander brushed a strand from her cheek, his voice breaking as he whispered:
"I'm here. I've got you. Nothing will ever touch you again."
He didn't sleep.
He watched her breathe. Watched her chest rise and fall. Watched the fragile line between safety and disaster she had almost crossed.
His fists clenched every time he imagined how close he had come to losing her.
"How could someone want to hurt you?" he whispered into the quiet room.
As dawn crept in, painting her face with pale light, Alexander made a silent vow:
Whoever orchestrated this would answer for it.
And Eliora would never be left unprotected again.