Elara's POV
What did you just do? Adrian's voice went deadly quiet.
Vivienne stood frozen, her phone still raised, camera pointed directly at us. The red recording light blinked like a warning beacon.
I recorded everything, Vivienne said, backing toward the door. The knife. The threats. Your psychotic ultimatum. All of it.
Adrian released me so abruptly I stumbled. Delete it. Now.
No. Vivienne's hand shook, but her voice stayed firm. The world needs to see what you really are.
Vivienne, don't be stupid, Adrian said, moving toward her slowly. Like a predator stalking prey. Give me the phone.
Stay back! Vivienne held the phone behind her back. I'm sending this to the police. To the media. Everyone will know you're a monster.
You wouldn't dare.
Watch me!
Vivienne's thumb moved across her screen. Adrian lunged for her, but Dad grabbed his arm.
Let her go, Dad said firmly. Adrian, stop. Just stop.
She's going to ruin everything! Adrian tried to break free, but Dad held tight.
Mom rushed to Vivienne, gently taking the phone from her shaking hands. Sweetheart, let me see—oh God. Her face went pale as she watched the video. Adrian, what have you done?
What I had to do, Adrian said, still struggling against Dad's grip. She was going to leave! They were all trying to take her from me!
So you threatened to kill yourself? Mom's voice rose hysterically. In front of everyone? On camera?
I was desperate!
You were manipulating! Mira shouted. She'd moved to my side, her arm around my shoulders. That's what abusers do—they make their victims feel responsible for their actions. 'If you leave, I'll hurt myself.' Classic manipulation.
Adrian's eyes found mine across the room. Elara, you know that's not true. Tell them. Tell them you understand why I did it.
I couldn't speak. My voice was trapped somewhere between my chest and my throat.
She doesn't have to tell us anything, Dad said. His grip on Adrian tightened. You're going to walk downstairs, pack a bag, and leave this house. Today.
This is my home too—
Not anymore. Dad's voice was steel. You've crossed a line, Adrian. Multiple lines. You need help. Professional help. And you're not getting it here while terrorizing your sister—
She's NOT my sister!
SHE'S BEEN YOUR SISTER FOR TWENTY-FOUR YEARS! Dad roared. The sound echoed through the whole house. DNA doesn't erase that! You watched her grow up! You were supposed to protect her, not— His voice cracked. Not this. Never this.
Adrian stopped struggling. He stood there, breathing hard, and for a moment he looked lost. Like a little boy who didn't understand why everyone was angry at him.
I do protect her, he said quietly. Everything I've done has been to protect her. From people who would use her. Hurt her. Take advantage of her kindness.
You're the one hurting her, Mom said through tears. Can't you see that?
Adrian looked at each of them—Mom crying, Dad furious, Vivienne scared, Mira protective. Then his gaze landed on me.
Do you think I'm hurting you? he asked.
The question hung in the air.
Everyone waited for my answer.
Yes, I whispered. You are.
Something broke in Adrian's expression. Raw pain flashed across his face before the mask slammed back into place.
I see. His voice went flat. Emotionless. Then I suppose there's nothing left to discuss.
He shrugged off Dad's grip—Dad let him go, surprised by the sudden compliance.
Adrian straightened his shirt, ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and became the polished businessman again. The transformation was terrifying.
I'll pack my things, he said calmly. But before I go, there are some things you all need to understand.
Adrian— Mom started.
I own forty-five percent of Ashford Industries, he continued, as if she hadn't spoken. Dad owns thirty percent. The board controls the rest. Which means I have significant power over this company's future.
Dad's face went pale. You wouldn't.
Wouldn't what, Father? Use my legal rights as a shareholder? Exercise my voice in company decisions? Adrian's smile was cold. Or are you worried I might do something more drastic?
Adrian, don't, Mom begged.
I have documentation of every questionable deal this company has made in the last ten years. Adrian's voice stayed eerily calm. Tax loopholes. Environmental violations that were quietly settled. That bribery scandal in 2019 that we paid to bury. All of it.
The room went deathly silent.
If you release that information— Dad started.
The company will collapse, Adrian finished. Stock price will tank. Criminal investigations will be opened. Thousands of employees will lose their jobs. The Ashford name will be destroyed forever.
You're bluffing, Vivienne said, but she sounded uncertain.
Am I? Adrian pulled out his phone. I have copies stored in multiple secure locations. One email to the right journalists, and it's all over.
Mom grabbed Dad's arm. He wouldn't. Tell me he wouldn't do that to his own family.
But Dad's expression said he wasn't sure anymore.
Adrian looked at me. Here's my offer, Elara. Come with me willingly. Let me take you somewhere we can talk, just the two of us, away from all this chaos. Give me one week to prove that what we have is real. And if, at the end of that week, you still want to leave, I'll let you go. No threats. No manipulation. Just freedom.
And if she refuses? Mira demanded.
Then I send the email, Adrian said simply. And the Ashford empire burns. Thousands of people lose their livelihoods. The family name becomes synonymous with corruption and scandal. All because you all tried to keep me from the one person I love more than anything.
That's extortion, Dad said.
That's negotiation, Adrian corrected. And it's a limited-time offer. Elara has sixty seconds to decide.
You can't be serious— Mom started.
Fifty-five seconds.
Mira grabbed my hand. Don't do it. He's bluffing. He has to be.
But I looked at Adrian's face—at the cold determination there—and I knew he wasn't.
Fifty seconds.
Dad stepped forward. Son, please. Don't do this. We can work something out—
Forty-five seconds. Elara?
Everyone was looking at me. Waiting for my answer.
One week with Adrian, or thousands of innocent people destroyed.
One week of his obsession, or my family's legacy in ruins.
One week of captivity, or a lifetime of guilt.
Thirty seconds.
Elara, don't, Mira whispered. Please don't.
Twenty seconds.
Mom was crying. Dad looked broken. Vivienne stared at me with something like pity.
And Adrian watched with patient certainty, like he already knew what I'd choose.
Ten seconds.
I opened my mouth
My phone rang.
Everyone jumped. The shrill sound cut through the tension like a knife.
I pulled it out with shaking hands. Unknown number.
Don't answer it, Adrian said. Five seconds.
But something made me swipe to answer.
Hello?
A man's voice, smooth and professional: Elara Ashford? This is Detective James Morrison with Silvercrest PD. We've received some concerning information about your safety. Are you currently in danger?
My eyes flew to Vivienne. She was smiling through her tears.
She hadn't just recorded the video.
She'd already sent it to the police.
Adrian saw my expression and understood immediately. His face went from calm to furious in an instant.
What did you do? he said to Vivienne.
What someone should have done years ago, Vivienne replied. I called the cops.
Adrian's hand clenched around his phone. You stupid—
Officers are en route to your location, the detective said in my ear. Stay on the line with me. Don't hang up.
Sirens wailed in the distance, getting closer.
Adrian stood frozen, his carefully constructed plan falling apart.
And for the first time since this nightmare began, I felt something like hope.
Until Adrian smiled—cold and terrible and full of promise.
You think the police will stop me? he said quietly. You have no idea what I'm capable of.
He turned and walked out of the room.
The sirens grew louder.
And I heard the sound of Adrian's car engine starting in the driveway.
He's running! Dad shouted.
We all rushed to the window. Adrian's black sports car peeled out of the driveway, tires screeching.
Police cars turned onto our street, lights flashing.
But Adrian was already gone.
The detective's voice crackled through my phone: Ms. Ashford, can you describe the suspect's vehicle?
I described it while watching the police cars give chase.
We'll find him, the detective promised. Stay where you are. Officers will be there shortly to take your statement.
He hung up.
I lowered the phone and looked at Mira, Mom, Dad, and Vivienne.
Is it over? I whispered.
It's over, Dad said firmly, pulling me into a hug.
But even as he said it, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.
This isn't over, Elara. I'll come back for you. I always will. You're mine, and I don't give up what's mine. Run. Hide. Involve the police. It doesn't matter. I'll find you. And when I do, nothing will keep us apart ever again. I love you. - A
The text was followed by a photo.
It was me, taken from outside my bedroom window.
Taken five minutes ago, while we were all standing in this room.
Adrian hadn't run far.
He was still watching.
And he wasn't done with me yet.