Chapter 140: Chapter 140
The phone buzzed once.
Elias sighed, and snatched it up before it could vibrate again. His nerves had been wired to its sound all along, since he told Amara he knew where she was.
He had been waiting for hours, maybe longer. Time meant little to him anymore. He’d been expecting Amara. He always expected Amara, even when he knew he shouldn’t. However, she doesn’t seem to give two fucks if he chased her to the hospital, or not.
Also, he couldn’t just wish down there without a good story. Dominic would be there, and he knew he’d immediately be an open book to Dominic to read, no matter what.
The name on his screen wasn’t hers. It wasn’t Amara. She visibly didn’t care. She blew him hot and cold at the same time, that most times, he wondered where he’d be on her list of priorities, or people she trusted.
Her voice could ground him in the middle of this storm, but he couldn’t say the same about himself to her. There were moments where she made him feel like he had earned a place in her and there were times where she let him know that he was nothing but a fucking useless footpath to her. To be honest, the moments when she made him feel useless were more than the moments he felt useful.
It wasn’t her calling, and this one was worse.
His pulse ticked in his throat like a clock with no patience. He inhaled once, and hard, before snapping the phone to his ear.
"What the fuck do you want from me right now?" he bit out. His voice was too sharp, and too loud, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t owe civility to the devil.
A scoff followed, dry and mocking, the kind that only came from someone who had the luxury of enjoying another man’s temper.
"Is that how you reply to the man who wants to help you avenge your parents and your sister?"
The words were barbed, and they landed in him like knives. They hit him in the right spot, and almost unraveled him.
Elias’s jaw locked until pain shot through his temple. His knuckles whitened against the plastic of the phone. He forced the words out slow, because if he spat them fast, he might choke.
"Don’t bring them up again," he said, his voice cold enough to freeze the city. "Never."
The bastard on the other end laughed. Cruel. Amused. Too amused.
"Still touchy about them, huh? Fine. We’ll move on. Let’s talk about something else. Something alive." He smiled, and paused deliberately. It was designed to stretch his nerves until they frayed. "Your girl. She’s at the hospital."
Elias froze. His spine straightened.
He hated the way his heart reacted and how one mention of her was enough to send it hammering into his ribs.
"I know," he snapped, too fast, and too defensive.
"You know," the man echoed, his tone thick with mockery. "Good. Then you also know she’s open. She’s open to being watched. And open to being touched.... by others. Even if Dominic moved them to a fucking protective suite."
The headache hit instantly. He felt a sudden headache like a hammer to his skull. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and his eyes squeezed shut, fighting the wave of panic clawing its way up his chest.
He could see it. He could see Amara’s figure bent over Celeste’s bed, and Dominic nearby. He could see the sterile walls of the ward, the way she would pace, and the way she would frown. She was currently vulnerable, unprotected, and exposed.
The man hummed through the silence. "Imagine this," he said, his tone light, and almost cheerful. "Imagine I blow up the hospital with her in it. That would save you a lot of trouble, wouldn’t it?"
Rage exploded so fast that Elias almost blacked out. His teeth clenched. His voice cracked out, venom-laced.
"Shut up."
"Oh?" The man chuckled. "Why so defensive? Unless..." His voice dropped lower, mocking, and deliberate. "You’re protecting her. Right now. Choosing her over your family?"
The line went dead quiet on Elias’s end. Only his breathing filled the space, heavy and jagged. He sat forward, one hand pressed to his thigh, gripping the fabric like a lifeline.
"It was the ambition and strategy of one man that caused this," Elias said finally, his voice low, and almost whispering, but forged with steel. "One man dragged us into this, and one man will pay. I swear in the name of my family, I will take revenge on Dominic Cross. No matter how many lies I have to tell. No matter who I have to give up."
He paused. His throat was tightened, and his jaw ached. He sucked in air.
"But you don’t get to touch her. Do you hear me?" His voice sharpened. "You don’t look her way. You don’t even breathe near her. The assignment was given to me. She’s mine to look after."
Silence dropped between them after Elias words.
The kind of silence showed how the other man hadn’t expected this. That he was leaning back, thinking, weighing, and testing the edges of Elias’s defiance.
Finally, a scrape of movement broke tge silence. A chair dragged against concrete from tge other end, and Elias heard a throat clearing.
"Interesting," the man said, voice shifted now, harder, and less amused. "Very interesting. Don’t worry. I’ll tell Carlos, you pimp. Let’s see how he takes it." He let out a laugh, sharp and humorless. "No matter what you do, remember to respect Carlos. That girl, she won’t be worth the consequences."
Something snapped inside Elias.
He stood abruptly, pacing the length of the small room, the phone pressed so tight to his ear it burned.
"There’s a very thin line," Elias said, his voice steady now, "between respect and fear."
He paused, and let the words hang, and sink in. "And there’s a very thin line between lying and pretending."
The silence that followed was different this time. It was heavy, and calculating. Not mocking.
The line immediately went dead.
Elias lowered the phone slowly, his hand trembling once before he forced it still. His reflection in the darkened window stared back at him. His eyes were sharp, his jaw clenched, and veins throbbed in his neck.
He dropped the phone on the table with a thud.
For a long time, he didn’t move. He just stood there, his chest rising and falling, replaying every word, every threat, and every dangerous promise.
He had said too much. He knew it. He had let her slip through in his words, amd let his weakness show.
But he didn’t regret it.
Because no matter what lines he crossed, no matter what lies he told, no matter what hell Carlos and his men thought they could bring, Amara wasn’t theirs to touch.
She was his to protect.
Even if she never knew it.
Even if she never wanted it.
And even if it destroyed him. She was his.