Chapter 6

I was released three days later. Evertt had paid off the victim's family. They had gotten their revenge on me, so they agreed to the settlement.

The first thing I did was check my phone. There was a single, cold text message from him.

"Kylee's not feeling well. I'm taking her to the hospital. Get a cab home."

I saw them in the hospital lobby as I was leaving. Kylee was whining about something, and Evertt was patiently coaxing her, his voice full of tenderness. He never saw me.

"Helen?"

A familiar voice called my name. It was Daniel Campos.

"My God, Helen, what happened to you?" he asked, his eyes wide with concern as he took in my bruised face. "I heard about Evertt... I' m so sorry."

I managed a weak smile. "It's all in the past."

He looked at me, his expression softening. "You know," he started, a half-joking tone in his voice, "if you're ever ready to move on, my offer still stands."

Before I could respond, a large man-one of Evertt's bodyguards-materialized and shoved Daniel hard.

"Stay away from Mrs. Martin," the man growled.

I immediately stepped in front of Daniel. "What do you think you're doing?"

Evertt was there now, his eyes fixed on me, his jaw tight. "I'm protecting you, Helen. For Evertt's sake."

I helped Daniel up, my gaze locking with Evertt's. It was cold and hard. "You have no right to control my life."

He grabbed my wrist, his grip like a vise. "Let's go."

He dragged me away, ignoring my struggles, leaving Daniel standing there, stunned.

That night, he came to my room, drunk. The smell of whiskey was overpowering.

He stumbled, falling on top of me on the bed. "Helen," he slurred, his hands fumbling with my clothes.

I pushed him with all my might. "Get off me!"

"What's wrong with you?" he grumbled, trying to pull at my shirt.

I slapped his hand away, my voice like ice. "Do you even know who I am?"

He froze, his drunken haze momentarily clearing.

I used the moment to shove him off me and scramble to the other side of the bed.

The door flew open. Kylee stood there, her eyes narrowed. "What's going on in here?"

I took a deep breath, composing myself. "He came to the wrong room."

I looked at her, my expression calm. "You should probably take your fiancé back to bed."

She helped him up, her eyes full of suspicion as she led him away.

The next morning at breakfast, Kylee complained that her food was cold.

Evertt immediately took her plate and switched it with mine.

I said nothing, simply swapping the plates back.

"The servants must have mixed them up," he said, not meeting my eyes. "I'll have a word with them."

Kylee smiled, a sly, knowing look on her face. "Some people just can't stand to see others happy. Always trying to get attention."

Evertt continued eating his oatmeal, pretending not to hear.

I looked at his impassive face and felt a wave of disgust. This charade was pathetic.

I dropped my fork and walked out of the room.

I had barely reached my bedroom when the door was thrown open. Kylee stood there, a mocking smile on her face.

"Running away? Feeling guilty?" she taunted.

I turned to face her, my voice flat. "Why would I feel guilty?"

"I'm not going to take anything from you," I said. "You can have him."

She lunged at me, shoving me hard. My head slammed against the corner of a dresser. A sharp, searing pain shot through my skull.

Warm liquid trickled down my temple.

I pushed myself up, my vision swimming. "I'm leaving soon. You'll have this whole place to yourself."

She didn't believe me. I heard footsteps in the hall.

Her eyes darted towards the door, and her expression changed in an instant. She collapsed onto the floor, clutching her stomach and crying out in fake pain.

The door burst open and Evertt rushed in. He saw Kylee on the floor and me, with blood on my face, and his expression turned to fury.

"My baby," Kylee sobbed, tears streaming down her face. "Helen, the baby is innocent!"

I pressed a hand to my bleeding head, feeling dizzy. "I didn't touch her."

Evertt sneered. "Then why is she on the floor?"

He barked an order to his bodyguards. "Lock her in the basement."

My eyes widened in terror.

Darkness. The door slammed shut, plunging me into absolute black.

The walls felt like they were closing in. Old, terrifying memories from my childhood surfaced.

I have claustrophobia.

Evertt knew. He was the one who used to hold me through the panic attacks, whispering that I was safe.

I pounded on the door, my voice trembling. "Let me out! Please!"

Silence.

My breath came in ragged gasps. The darkness twisted and warped around me. I sank to the floor, digging my nails into my palms, trying to ground myself.

"Evertt," I whispered, a desperate, unconscious plea.

Then I laughed, a broken, hysterical sound. Tears streamed down my face.

What was I doing? Evertt was the one who locked me in here. My savior was my tormentor. He wasn't dead. He was just gone.