Bella's heart pounded as Damien grabbed her wrist, his grip firm but careful. His touch sent a shiver through her—whether from fear or something deeper, she wasn't sure.
"There's no time for questions," he murmured, his voice edged with urgency. "You need to come with me. Now."
She hesitated. "Where are we going?"
"Somewhere safe." His dark gaze burned into hers. "I won't let them take you, Bella."
The weight of his words settled in her chest. Whoever they were—Victor Morelli's men, the ones hunting Damien—were close. Dangerously close.
Before she could protest, Damien led her through a hidden passage behind the bookshelf. The moment they stepped inside, the walls seemed to close in around her.
A secret escape route.
Of course, a man like Damien had a plan for everything.
They moved quickly through the dimly lit corridor, the air thick with tension. Damien's body was tense, his every movement calculated.
Bella stole a glance at him, the sharp angles of his face cast in shadows. He was always in control, always a step ahead.
Except for that moment in her room.
When his lips had claimed hers, when his hands had branded her skin, there had been no strategy—only raw, unfiltered need.
And she had wanted more.
"This way," Damien whispered, pulling her out of her thoughts.
They emerged into an underground garage. A sleek black car waited, engine humming. Leo stood by the driver's side, his expression grim.
"They're closing in fast," Leo said. "We need to move."
Damien opened the door for her, his fingers brushing against hers.
"Get in."
Bella hesitated.
She knew the moment she stepped into that car, there was no turning back.
This wasn't just about survival.
It was about him.
About the way he made her feel—trapped between danger and desire.
She met his gaze one last time.
Then, without another word, she slid inside.