The corridor was a tunnel of shadow, the only light from a flickering sconce at the far end. Ella pressed herself against the wall, her heart hammering so loud she feared it would echo. Thorn's warning replayed in her head: "weakness gets people killed"—but what choice did she have? Her father was dying. Or was he?
A floorboard creaked.
Ella ducked into a recessed alcove, holding her breath. Two men in dark suits walked past, their voices low.
"East wing stairs. Lady Black says she'll head there—thinks the hospital's that way."
"Arthur wants the pendant intact. Don't damage it."
"Or the girl?"
A laugh. "He didn't say."
They rounded the corner, their footsteps fading.
Ella's blood ran cold. Cordelia wasn't just trying to scare her—she was sending her straight to Arthur's men, who wouldn't hesitate to hurt her for the pendant.
But where was Sebastian?
She pushed away from the wall, moving silently toward the west staircase—Sebastian's study was on that wing. If anyone could fix this, it was him. Even if he was hiding things, even if he'd started as her captor… he'd warned her to lock the door. He'd stood between her and Cordelia.
He cared. Maybe not enough, but enough.
The west wing was quieter, the air thick with the scent of Sebastian's cigars. She reached his study door, her hand hovering over the knob—then froze.
Voices inside. Sebastian and Cordelia.
"—think I didn't notice you sneaking around? You texted Arthur. Admit it." Sebastian's voice, cold as ice.
"Relax, brother. I'm just… helping him see reason. The girl's a liability. Get rid of her, and the pendant's yours. Ethan stays hidden. Everyone wins."
"Everyone but her."
"Since when do you care about 'her'? She's a pawn. A pretty one, sure, but still—"
"Get out."
The door flew open. Cordelia stalked out, nearly colliding with Ella. Her eyes widened, then narrowed. "Well, well. The mouse came out of its hole. Looking for your master?"
Ella didn't flinch. "My father. What did you do to him?"
Cordelia's smirk slipped. "He's fine. For now. But if you don't hand over the pendant by dawn—"
"Enough." Sebastian appeared in the doorway, his gaze burning into Cordelia. "Go to your room. Stay there. Or I'll have Thorn escort you to the gate."
Cordelia huffed, but she left—casting one last venomous look at Ella.
The study door closed. Sebastian turned to her, his shoulders slumping slightly, as if the fight had drained him. "You shouldn't be here."
"Your sister sent me a fake hospital letter. Arthur's men are in the east wing, waiting to grab me." Ella's voice shook, but she held his gaze. "Why? What does Arthur want with the pendant? With me?"
He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture she was starting to recognize as frustration. "He thinks it's the key to the vault. Not just the books—there's more. Bonds. Letters. Proof that our grandfather collaborated with the Nazis during the war. Clara found it, hid it there. If Arthur gets it, he can destroy the evidence. Cleanse the Black name—his way."
Ella's breath caught. Collaborated? It explained the secrecy, the violence—this wasn't just about money. It was about erasing a legacy of shame.
"And me?" she asked. "Why me?"
"Because you're the only one who can open the vault. The pendant… it responds to your bloodline. Eleanor's bloodline. Clara's last trick—only her nurse's family could unlock it. To keep it safe from the Blacks." He stepped closer, his voice softening. "I didn't know. Not until I found Clara's journal. That's why I needed you here. Not just for the pendant—for you."
For me. The words hung in the air, heavy and warm.
A loud crash echoed from the east wing—glass shattering.
Sebastian's head snapped up. "They're getting impatient." He grabbed her hand, his touch urgent. "We need to move. Now."
He led her through a hidden door behind his bookshelf, into a narrow passage lit by dim bulbs. "This leads to the garden. Thorn's waiting with the car."
"Why run?" Ella asked, her hand tight in his. "Fight them. You're Sebastian Black—you own this place."
"Arthur's men aren't here to fight. They're here to take you. And if they can't, they'll kill you. I won't let that happen." He stopped, turning to face her, his thumb brushing her cheek. "I won't."
The intensity in his eyes—raw, unguarded—made her chest ache.
They emerged from the passage into the garden, the night air cool on her skin. Thorn stood by a sleek black car, its engine running.
"Go," Sebastian said, opening the door. "Thorn will take you to the hospital. Check on your father. I'll handle Arthur."
Ella hesitated. "What if—"
"I'll find you. I promise." He leaned in, his lips brushing her forehead—a kiss, quick and fierce, before he stepped back. "Go."
She climbed into the car. Through the window, she watched him turn toward the house, his shoulders squared, his posture that of a man going to war.
Thorn pulled away, the garden shrinking behind them.
"Mr. Black cares about you, miss," Thorn said, breaking the silence. "More than he'll admit."
Ella touched her pendant, its metal warm as a heartbeat.
At the hospital, her father's room was empty.
Panic clawed at her throat. "Where is he?" she asked a nurse.
The nurse checked her clipboard. "Thomas White? He was discharged an hour ago. A man came for him—said he was your brother."
Ella's blood ran cold. Not a brother. Arthur's men.
"Which way did they go?"
The nurse pointed toward the parking garage.
Ella ran, her shoes slipping on the linoleum. Thorn was right behind her, his hand on his gun.
The garage was dim, the air reeking of exhaust. She spotted them—two men in suits, dragging her father toward a van. His head lolled, but his eyes were open, wide with fear.
"Dad!"
The men froze. One turned, reaching for his waistband—a gun.
Thorn moved faster, tackling him to the ground. The other man grabbed her father, pulling him toward the van.
Ella ran, throwing herself at him. He stumbled, releasing her father. She grabbed his arm, digging her nails into his skin. "Let him go!"
He swore, backhanding her. She fell, her head hitting the concrete. Stars exploded in her vision.
Through the haze, she saw Sebastian.
He appeared from nowhere, his fist connecting with the man's jaw. The man crumpled. Sebastian knelt, checking her father's pulse, then turned to her, his face white.
"Ella?"
She reached for him, her hand shaking. "I'm okay."
He lifted her, pulling her into his arms, his body trembling. "Don't you ever do that again. Don't ever run into danger like that."
"Like you did?" she whispered.
He laughed, a harsh, broken sound, and kissed her—properly, this time, his lips hard against hers, his hands tight in her hair. It was a kiss that said I'm scared and I'm sorry and I'm not letting go.
Thorn appeared, supporting her father. "He's alive, sir. Drugged, but alive."
Sebastian pulled back, his forehead resting against hers. "I told you I'd find you."
Ella nodded, her eyes closing.
When she opened them, they were in the car, her father lying across the backseat, Thorn driving. Sebastian sat beside her, his hand wrapped around hers.
"Where now?" she asked.
"Somewhere safe." He squeezed her hand. "Somewhere Arthur can't reach us."
She leaned her head on his shoulder, the pendant pressing into their joined hands.
Outside, the city lights blurred past. For the first time since she'd signed that contract, Ella didn't feel like a prisoner.
She felt like she was home.
Not in a house, but in the arms of a man who'd once been her captor—now her shield.
A dangerous man. A broken man.
Hers.
For better or worse.
And somewhere, in the dark, Arthur Black smiled.
He didn't need the pendant.
He had something better.
A hostage.