The soft morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a golden hue over the room. Eliana stirred slowly, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks as consciousness crept in. The sheets were tangled around her, the scent of Damon still lingering in the air—warm, musky, intoxicating.
Her body ached pleasantly from the night before, every inch of her skin tingling with memories of Damon's touch. She rolled over, expecting to find him beside her, but the space was empty, the sheets cool.
Just as a pang of disappointment stirred within her, a soft knock came at the door.
"Eliana?" Damon's voice, low and husky, filtered through.
Before she could respond, the door creaked open, and there he stood, dressed in a crisp dark shirt and slacks, holding a tray with breakfast.
Her breath caught at the sight of him.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," he teased, stepping inside.
She sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest, cheeks flushing. "You didn't have to do that."
He smirked, setting the tray down on the bedside table. "I wanted to. Consider it my peace offering for keeping you up all night."
She laughed softly, her heart warming at his playful tone.
He leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against her lips before whispering, "Breakfast first. Then you can punish me however you like."
Her cheeks turned crimson, but she giggled, easing into the comfort of the moment.
They ate together, sharing quiet smiles and stolen glances, the tension from the previous night softened by their closeness. Yet Eliana couldn't shake the lingering worry etched into Damon's eyes.
"You seem distracted," she murmured, watching him carefully.
Damon hesitated, then masked it with a charming smile. "Just work matters. Nothing for you to worry about."
She wasn't fully convinced but decided not to press further.
As they finished their meal, Damon set the tray aside and pulled her into his lap.
"I have a meeting with Jimmy later," he said, tracing circles along her back. "But I'll be back early."
"I have plans too," Eliana replied, smiling softly. "I'm meeting Tilda for coffee."
Damon tensed subtly but didn't argue. "Alright. But Martins will drive you, and you won't go anywhere without him."
"Damon—"
"No room for negotiation," he cut in gently but firmly.
Seeing the concern in his eyes, she relented. "Fine. But don't think you can control every move I make."
He kissed her deeply, his lips lingering against hers.
"I'm just trying to keep you safe," he whispered.
Afterward, they dressed for the day, Damon stealing kisses as she got ready. Before leaving, he cupped her face, his thumb grazing her cheek.
"Stay safe, alright?"
"I will," she promised.
They parted ways with a kiss, Damon heading to his meeting while Eliana left with Martins.
---
Jimmy's office had always been a quiet place, lined with shelves of law books and the faint scent of aged leather and coffee. But today, Damon couldn't sit still. He stood by the window, his hands deep in his pockets, his gaze distant.
Jimmy watched him from behind his desk, a knowing look in his eyes. He let Damon stew in silence for a moment before breaking it.
"You've been pacing for ten minutes, Damon. If you wear a hole in that rug, I'm sending you the bill."
Damon let out a low, humorless chuckle but didn't stop. "I can't help it."
Jimmy leaned back, folding his arms. "Still no news on the threats?"
Damon turned, his expression tight. "No. And it's driving me mad."
Jimmy nodded slowly but didn't press further. Instead, his tone softened, more personal. "This isn't just about the threats, is it?"
Damon's jaw clenched, but something in Jimmy's calm gaze made him drop the pretense. He exhaled heavily and sank into the chair across from his friend.
"It's her," Damon admitted, his voice quieter now. "Eliana."
Jimmy's brows lifted slightly, though not in surprise. He'd suspected as much. "Go on."
Damon ran a hand through his hair, frustration and raw emotion mixing in his voice. "I thought… I thought I could handle everything. Keep her safe, keep everything under control. But the truth is—I'm terrified."
Jimmy's face softened, his voice steady. "Because you're in love with her."
Damon didn't deny it. He simply let the weight of the words linger before giving a quiet, almost broken laugh.
"She's not just my wife anymore, Jimmy," Damon said, his eyes dark with sincerity. "She's… everything. And I didn't even see it happening. One minute, we're strangers bound by a contract, and now—now the thought of losing her feels like it would kill me."
Jimmy let out a long breath, absorbing Damon's words. "That's the thing about love, Damon. It doesn't announce itself. It just… takes over."
Damon's throat tightened, but he pushed on. "She trusts me, Jimmy. She looks at me like I can fix everything, like I can keep her safe. And I want to—but I'm failing."
Jimmy's voice was steady but firm. "You're not failing. You're being human. You can't control everything. But you can fight for her, and that's exactly what you're doing."
Damon's voice grew rougher, more urgent. "It's not enough. They're watching her. They know where she goes, who she's with. I don't even know who I'm up against. And the worst part?" He leaned forward, his voice a harsh whisper. "I hate myself for dragging her into this."
Jimmy's gaze softened, but his voice remained grounded. "Damon, she chose to be with you too, whether she remembers the past or not. You're not dragging her anywhere she isn't willing to stand."
Damon fell silent for a moment, the weight of those words settling on him.
Then Jimmy's tone shifted, practical but calm. "Look. I'm still digging. No leads yet, but I have people working on it. And tomorrow, we'll sit down, and I'll walk you through everything we've found."
Damon nodded, though his posture remained tense.
Jimmy added, with a half-smile, "In the meantime, don't shut her out, Damon. She needs you to be there, not just guard her."
Damon's lips twitched faintly, though his eyes still burned with intensity. "You sound like a marriage counselor."
Jimmy chuckled. "Maybe I missed my calling."
Despite himself, Damon let out a low laugh. For a moment, the tension eased—but the undercurrent of fear remained.
"I'll stop by tomorrow," Damon finally said, standing again, though his voice was steadier now. "Thanks, Jimmy."
Jimmy's expression was warm, but firm. "Go home. Hold onto her. And keep fighting."
Damon gave a tight nod before leaving the office, his heart still heavy—but just a little more anchored.
---
Meanwhile, Eliana sat in a cozy corner of the café, sipping tea as she waited for Tilda. The café was bright, filled with soft chatter and the scent of fresh pastries.
Tilda arrived soon, her face lighting up with excitement.
"Eliana! You look amazing!" Tilda exclaimed, pulling her into a warm hug.
They spent the next hour catching up, reminiscing about university days, old professors, and silly memories.
Tilda smiled warmly. "So, married life?"
Eliana chuckled softly, stirring her drink. "It's... complicated but good."
Tilda laughed. "That vague answer tells me everything and nothing at all."
Eliana smiled, keeping her words light. "Let's just say life has been full of surprises."
They shared another laugh, but beneath Eliana's smile was a whirlwind of thoughts.
After finishing their drinks, they hugged goodbye, promising to meet again soon.
Eliana stepped outside, the sun dipping lower in the sky. Martins stood by the car, ready to escort her home.
She walked toward him, distracted by her swirling thoughts.
But she never made it to the car.
A dark van screeched to a stop at the curb. The doors flung open, and masked men lunged out.
"Eliana, run!" Martins shouted, drawing attention.
Before she could react, one of the men struck Martins with a brutal blow to the head, sending him collapsing to the ground.
Eliana gasped, frozen in horror.
Strong arms grabbed her from behind, dragging her toward the van. She struggled, kicked, and screamed, her voice echoing down the street.
"Help! Let me go!"
A hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her desperate cries.
Her heart pounded wildly as she fought, but it was no use. They were too strong.
Within seconds, she was shoved into the van, the doors slamming shut.
Tires screeched again as the vehicle sped away, leaving the street eerily silent.
Martins lay unconscious, blood trickling from his temple.
And Eliana's terrified eyes were the last thing anyone saw before the van disappeared into the night.
The nightmare had begun.