Chapter 8

Two bodyguards trailed Dylan, seizing all the photos from Elaine's hands.

"Give them back! Dylan! Give me back my things!"

Elaine lunged to reclaim them, but Dylan gripped her wrist.

He saw her tear-streaked face, a flicker of emotion in his eyes.

He quickly masked it, turning to the bodyguard. "Take these photos. Not a single one gets out."

"Yes, Mr. Andrews," the bodyguard replied respectfully, retreating swiftly.

"Why?" Elaine struggled hysterically, tears streaming. "Do you know what Tatiana..."

"I know," Dylan said, his voice calm. "But I can't let you ruin Alina."

Elaine froze, as if all strength had been drained from her.

After a long pause, she let out a low, desolate laugh.

She should have known.

He loved Alina so deeply he could overlook anything.

What was she to him?

"Burn the photos if you want," she said, her red-rimmed eyes piercing. "As long as I'm alive, I'll never let that mother and daughter off."

Dylan's gaze darkened. He dragged her out, took her to the suburban villa, and locked her in the attic.

"Stay here and think it over. I'll let you out when you're ready." He stood in the doorway, his tall figure cold and unyielding against the light.

"Dylan! Let me out! You have no right to lock me up!" Elaine pounded the heavy wooden door, but only fading footsteps answered.

She didn't know how long she endured in the darkness before the lock clicked again.

A young maid entered timidly, carrying a tray of food.

Faint strains of lively music drifted from downstairs.

Elaine's voice was hoarse. "What's... happening downstairs?"

"It's Mr. Andrews' birthday. They're throwing a party at the villa."

She hesitated, then added, "Miss Russell is here too. I heard her birthday gift tonight is accepting Mr. Andrews' proposal... and they're going public with their relationship."

The maid hurried out.

A cold glint flashed in Elaine's eyes. She grabbed the maid from behind, clamping a napkin over her mouth.

"I'm sorry..." Elaine whispered, binding the maid with rope found in the attic.

She stripped off the maid's uniform and put it on herself.

Head down, she slipped out of the attic, hurrying downstairs, avoiding the main hall and sneaking into the backyard.

The back door was within reach. Her hand grazed the handle when a low voice sounded behind her. "Stop."

It was Dylan.

Elaine froze.

"Who are you? Turn around." His tone held a trace of suspicion.

Her heart pounded so hard it might burst, her mind racing but finding no escape.

At that moment, a soft feminine voice cut in. "Dylan! What are you doing out here? Everyone's waiting for you to cut the cake!"

Alina approached, looping her arm through Dylan's with familiar ease.

She shot a jealous glance at the maid's beautiful figure. "Just a servant. What's so interesting? Let's go back!"

Dylan stared at the familiar silhouette, hesitating briefly before Alina pulled him away.

As their footsteps faded, Elaine shoved open the back door and fled into the dark night.

She ran until she reached a convenience store, borrowed a phone, and dialed a number. "Charlie, it's Elaine. Please, help me get out of here now... If I don't leave, I'm done for..."

A brief silence, then, "Don't worry. I'm sending a helicopter for you."

An hour later, Elaine, clutching Sunny, boarded a plane to Eldoria.

Through the window, she glanced back at the glowing lights of the Andrews estate.

Alina had finally said yes. Dylan got his wish. He must be thrilled.

Her life was about to start anew, in a world without Dylan.

She felt no lingering attachment, only a numb sense of release.

It felt right.

Perhaps she and Dylan were never meant to cross paths at all.