The darkness was thick, a heavy velvet shroud that seemed to swallow the very air in the penthouse. Elena froze, her lungs burning as she held her breath. The only light came from the city's distant skyline, casting long, skeletal shadows across the marble floor.
"Leo? Mia? Stay exactly where you are!" she hissed into the dark, her voice a desperate whisper.
A low, metallic click echoed from the front door. The sound of a professional bypass.
Elena's survival instincts, honed by five years of looking over her shoulder, surged to the surface. She didn't reach for her phone—the light would make her a target. Instead, she grabbed the heavy brass vase from the counter, her fingers slick with cold sweat.
"Sarah, get the kids into the safe room. Now!"
Footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, and muffled by the plush rugs. There was more than one person.
Elena moved toward the hallway, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She could see a silhouette near the door—a large man wearing a tactical vest. In the moonlight, the glint of a sedative needle caught her eye. They weren't here to kill; they were here to kidnap. Beatrice was trying to take the heirs to secure her leverage.
Just as the intruder stepped into the kitchen, a second shadow erupted from the balcony.
A tall, powerful figure collided with the intruder, the force of the impact sending both men crashing into the mahogany dining table. Elena gasped, raising her makeshift weapon, until a familiar, authoritative voice sliced through the chaos.
"Elena! Get back!"
Silas.
He fought with a brutal, unrefined grace. This wasn't the billionaire who sat in leather chairs; this was the man who had built an empire from nothing, a man who would tear the world apart to protect what was his. He disarmed the first intruder with a sickening crack of bone, then turned to face a second man emerging from the shadows.
"You picked the wrong house," Silas growled, his voice a low, lethal vibration.
The struggle was brief but violent. Within minutes, the intruders were forced back toward the door, realizing they had lost the element of surprise. As they fled into the hallway, Silas didn't chase them. He turned instantly toward Elena.
The lights flickered once, twice, and then hummed back to life.
Silas stood in the center of the room, his white dress shirt torn at the shoulder, blood—not his own—staining his cuff. His chest heaved, his eyes wide with a wild, desperate terror she had never seen before.
"Are they okay?" he gasped, stepping toward her. "The children. Are they safe?"
Elena let the vase slip from her fingers, the heavy metal thudding onto the rug. She looked at the man who had once discarded her, the man who was now standing between her and the shadows.
"They're in the safe room," she whispered, her voice trembling for the first time. "How did you get in here, Silas?"
"I never left," he admitted, his gaze scanning her for injuries. "I stayed in the garage. My security team flagged a suspicious vehicle following your SUV. When the building's power was cut from the basement, I knew."
He took another step, closing the distance between them. The air between them crackled with the same electric tension that had fueled their first love five years ago.
"I told you, Elena," he said, his voice dropping to a ragged whisper. "I am not that man anymore. I will not let them touch you. Not again."
Elena wanted to scream at him. She wanted to tell him that his protection was five years too late. But as the adrenaline faded, leaving her weak and shaking, she found herself leaning into him. For a fleeting second, his arms wrapped around her, a fortress of warmth and steel.
"This changes nothing," she murmured against his chest, even as she gripped the fabric of his shirt.
"It changes everything," Silas countered, his chin resting on the top of her head. "Because now I know exactly what Beatrice is capable of. And I'm going to help you burn her world to the ground."
The door to the safe room creaked open. Leo stood there, his small face pale, looking at the man holding his mother.
"Did you catch the bad guys?" the boy asked.
Silas pulled away from Elena, dropping to one knee so he was at eye level with his son. He didn't try to touch him this time. He just nodded, his expression solemn and respectful.
"I did," Silas promised. "And I'm going to make sure they never come back."
Leo studied him for a long moment, then did something that broke the last of the ice in the room. He walked forward and placed a small, LEGO-stained hand on Silas's shoulder.
"Good," Leo said. "Because I'm too little to fight them all by myself."
The innocence in the boy's voice was like a physical blow to Silas's chest. Silas reached out, his hand hovering over Leo's shoulder for a heartbeat before he finally pulled the boy into a brief, stiff embrace.
Elena watched them, her back against the kitchen counter. Her heart was a chaotic mess of gratitude and lingering fury.
"Sarah," Elena called out, her voice regaining its iron edge. "Take the children back to the safe room for a moment. I need to speak with... Mr. Vance."
As soon as the door clicked shut, the silence in the penthouse became suffocating. Silas stood up, his height filling the room, his eyes never leaving Elena's face.
"They were trying to take them, Elena," he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "They weren't looking for jewelry or money. They had sedatives. Professional-grade."
"I know what they were doing, Silas," she snapped, her composure finally cracking. She paced the kitchen, her heels clicking like gunfire on the marble. "Beatrice knows the boardroom audit will ruin her. She wanted leverage."
Silas stepped into her path, forcing her to stop. "I won't let that happen. My security team is already sweeping the building. The police won't be called—but my people will find out who leaked the code to your door."
"I don't need your 'people,' Silas. I need you to understand that this is your fault," she whispered, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "You gave Beatrice the power to destroy me, and now she's coming for them."
The guilt on Silas's face was palpable. "Then let me fix it. Not as the CEO of Vance International, but as... as their father."
Elena let out a harsh, brittle laugh. "A father? You think a few minutes of heroics makes you a father? You missed the teething. You missed the first steps."
Silas didn't flinch. He walked closer until he was just inches from her. The scent of woodsmoke and expensive cologne filled her lungs. "I can't change the past five years, Elena. If I could, I would spend every cent of the Vance fortune to go back to that night in the rain and tell Beatrice to go to hell."
He reached out, his thumb brushing a stray tear from her cheek.
"But I can control the next five years," he continued, his voice dropping to a ragged, intimate whisper. "Starting tonight. I'm not leaving this penthouse. I'll stay on the sofa, in the hallway, or outside the door. But I am not leaving you alone with her wolves again."
Elena looked up at him, searching for a lie in his storm-grey eyes.
"The sofa," she eventually murmured, pulling away. "And tomorrow, we go to the estate. If Beatrice thinks she can play dirty, we're going to show her what it looks like when the King and the Queen decide to burn the palace down."
Silas nodded, a grim, satisfied smile touching his lips. "I'll get the blankets. And Elena?"
She stopped at the edge of the hallway, looking back.
"I won't just burn it down," Silas promised. "I'll make sure there's nothing left for her to even remember."