From Chains to Forever

Evelyn's heart pounded as she stared at Damian's phone, the security footage frozen on the figure outside his penthouse. The red glow of their phone screen lit up a face she didn't recognize—sharp features, dark eyes, a stranger who somehow knew her, knew Damian, knew *everything*. The text—"You can't hide her forever, Blackwood"—felt like a blade at her throat. She was trapped in a game she didn't understand, and the pieces were slipping through her fingers.

"Rewind it," she said, her voice sharp, cutting through the tense silence of Damian's penthouse. Tommy sat slumped on the couch, his face buried in his hands, while Lila hovered near the bar, pouring herself a drink to steady her nerves. Damian stood beside Evelyn, too close, his presence a mix of comfort and chaos that made her head spin.

He tapped the screen, replaying the footage. The figure moved with purpose, snapping the photo, their phone's glow casting eerie shadows. "No clear ID yet," Damian said, his voice low, controlled, but his eyes burned with something fierce, protective. "My team's running facial recognition, but whoever this is, they're good at covering their tracks."

"Of course they are," Evelyn muttered, crossing her arms to hide the tremor in her hands. "They've been one step ahead this whole time. The photos, the videos, that call—" She glanced at Tommy, her childhood friend, whose betrayal still stung. "You said there's someone above Vincent. Who is it, Tommy? No more dodging."

Tommy's head snapped up, his eyes red-rimmed, haunted. "I don't know, Evie. I swear. They contact me through burner phones, encrypted messages. All I know is they're powerful, and they're obsessed with you. More than Vincent."

Her stomach twisted, the memory of the call—*"You're still that scared little girl from the trailer park"*—cutting deep. She turned away, her gaze landing on the city lights beyond the penthouse's glass walls, trying to anchor herself. But Damian's hand brushed her arm, a possessive gesture that sent a jolt through her, making her heart race in a way she hated.

"Stop," she said, stepping back, her voice shaky but firm. "You don't get to touch me like I'm already yours."

His eyes darkened, not with anger but with something hotter, more dangerous. "I'm not trying to own you, Evelyn," he said, his voice a low growl that made her skin prickle. "But you're in danger, and I'm not letting you face it alone. You're too important."

"Important to who?" she shot back, her voice rising, though her body leaned toward him, betraying her. "To you? To your ego? Why do you care so much, Damian? What's this really about?"

He stepped closer, closing the distance, his breath warm against her cheek. "You want the truth?" he said, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. "I saw you in that film, Evelyn. Before I ever met you. You lit up the screen, and I couldn't look away. I've been watching you ever since, not because I want to control you, but because I can't stop. You're in my head, in my blood. And I'll burn this city down before I let Vincent or anyone else hurt you."

Her breath caught, her chest tight with a mix of fear and desire. She wanted to push him away, to cling to her independence, but his words, his intensity, were unraveling her. She felt like she was drowning in him, losing the control she'd fought so hard to keep. And the worst part? Part of her didn't want to fight it.

Lila cleared her throat, shattering the moment. "Okay, you two, maybe save the heart-eyes for after we figure out who's stalking Evie," she said, her tone sharp but her eyes soft with worry. "Tommy, spill. What do they have on you? Why are you so scared?"

Tommy ran a hand through his hair, his voice barely above a whisper. "They know about my debts—gambling, bad deals back home. But it's more than that. They know about… your mom, Evie. What happened to her."

Evelyn froze, her blood turning to ice. Her mother—dead for five years, lost to pills and liquor, a ghost Evelyn had buried deep. "What about her?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

Tommy hesitated, his eyes flicking to Damian, then back to her. "They know how she died. The truth. Not the story you told everyone."

Her knees buckled, and she gripped the back of a chair, her world tilting. She'd told the world her mom died in a car accident, a clean lie to avoid the shame, the questions. But the truth—her mother's overdose, the fight they'd had, the guilt Evelyn carried—was a secret she'd never shared. Not with Lila, not with anyone.

"How?" she whispered, her voice breaking. "How do they know?"

Tommy shook his head, tears in his eyes. "I don't know. But they've got proof—photos, medical records. They said if I didn't help them, they'd leak it. Ruin you."

Damian's hand was on her shoulder now, steadying her, his touch both a lifeline and a chain. "They won't," he said, his voice fierce, possessive. "I won't let them. Say yes, Evelyn. Marry me, and I'll bury this. All of it."

She pulled away, her heart pounding, her mind a mess of fear and longing. "You can't just fix this with a ring," she said, her voice trembling. "You're asking me to give up everything—my freedom, my life—for a man I barely know."

"I'm asking you to trust me," he said, his eyes locked on hers, burning with a need that made her chest ache. "I know I don't deserve it. But I'll protect you, Evelyn. Not because I own you, but because I—" He stopped, his jaw tight, like he was afraid to finish the sentence.

Her breath hitched, her body betraying her again, leaning toward him, drawn to the unspoken words. She wanted to hate him, to push him away, but the way he looked at her—like she was his entire world—was breaking her down. She was losing control, and it terrified her, thrilled her, all at once.

Lila stepped between them, her hands on her hips. "Okay, enough with the romance novel vibes. Evie, you don't have to decide anything tonight. But we need a plan, because whoever's out there isn't stopping."

Evelyn nodded, forcing herself to focus. "Tommy, you're staying here," she said, her voice steadier now. "No more running. We're figuring this out together."

Tommy nodded, his shoulders sagging with relief. But Damian's eyes were still on her, intense, unyielding, like he was waiting for her to break, to say yes.

---

They spent the next hour combing through the security footage, Damian's team sending updates via encrypted messages. The figure outside hadn't been identified, but they'd traced the car to a rental agency tied to Vincent Kane's company. No surprise there. But the mention of someone above Vincent, someone with dirt on her mother, gnawed at Evelyn. Who could know that much? And why?

Damian stayed close, his presence a constant pull, his hand brushing hers as he showed her the latest update on his tablet. Each touch sent a spark through her, and she hated how much she craved it, how much she wanted to lean into him, let him take the weight of this nightmare. But she couldn't. Not yet.

"I'm not saying yes," she said suddenly, breaking the silence. "But… I'm not saying no either. If I do this—*if*—it's on my terms. No controlling me. No owning me. I'm still Evelyn Hart, and I'm not giving that up."

Damian's eyes softened, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "I wouldn't want you any other way," he said, his voice low, almost reverent. And there it was again—that pull, that need to close the distance between them, to let herself fall.

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed, a new email notification. Her heart sank as she opened it, Damian and Lila crowding close. It was a photo, grainy but clear: her mother's trailer, the door ajar, a figure standing inside. Not Tommy. Not Vincent. A woman, her face half-hidden, holding a bottle of pills—Evelyn's mother's pills. And scrawled across the bottom in red: *The truth comes out tomorrow.*

Evelyn's breath stopped, her world narrowing to that image. Her mother's death, her darkest secret, was about to be exposed. And as she looked up, her eyes locking with Damian's, she saw something new in his gaze—fear, not for himself, but for her.

The door to the penthouse buzzed, sharp and insistent. Damian's security team. "Sir," a voice crackled through the intercom. "We've got a problem. Someone's in the building. They just breached the lobby."

Evelyn's heart pounded, her eyes darting to the photo, then to Damian. The woman in the trailer, the figure outside, the truth about her mother—it was all coming for her. And as Damian grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the door, his voice was a fierce whisper: "Stay with me, Evelyn. No matter what."

But as they moved, the lights in the penthouse flickered, then went out, plunging them into darkness.