Chapter 278: The call

My words had barely left my mouth when he suddenly went still.

The cigarette continued to smolder between his fingers, its glowing tip slowly burning away, but he no longer seemed to care about it.

Then, with a sharp flick of his wrist, he tossed it into the corner.

The bastard lunged at me like a predator closing in on its prey. His hand clamped around my throat, and he slammed me against the concrete wall with such force that the back of my head struck it.

Pain exploded through my skull. Stars burst behind my eyes, bright and blinding. I struggled to draw breath, but his fingers tightened around my neck.

"You’re getting far too mouthy for your own good!" he roared, his voice reverberating through the tiny room. Spittle sprayed across my face. "One more word, and I’ll make sure this week becomes the most miserable experience of your pathetic life! Believe me, there’s very little I wouldn’t do to you. And afterward, I can bring in my own doctor to patch you up. No one will ever have to know about our little secret."

"So that’s what you wanted to prove."

Despite the pain, I forced the words out through his grip.

"No one would willingly touch you, would they? But you’d better think twice before threatening me. I have a mate, and when he finds you..." I struggled to swallow. "You’ll regret ever laying a hand on me."

"If only I were afraid of some pathetic little breeder’s boyfriend!"

His grip tightened, and he gave me a disgusted shove, sending me sideways.

"You’ll find out soon enough what happens when he finally gets his hands on you."

"When he finds you and destroys you," I corrected, struggling to get the words out.

My head was throbbing so violently that each syllable felt like a knife twisting behind my eyes. Nausea rolled through me in suffocating waves, but somehow, I managed to look straight at the bastard and give him a defiant, almost reckless smile.

His expression changed instantly. Ugly red blotches crept up his neck. He spat a string of curses through clenched teeth before storming out of the room.

The heavy metal door slammed shut with such force that another bolt of pain shot through my temple.

I released a shaky breath and lowered my blurred gaze to the phone still clutched in my hand. I wasn’t sure I’d ever dare provoke that bastard again. I’d already been extraordinarily lucky.

The screen was still glowing faintly in the dim room... And the phone was unlocked.

I froze, barely able to focus or make sense of my surroundings through the deafening roar of blood rushing in my ears.

It seemed quiet enough.

Lowering my eyes to the phone, I began frantically scrolling through the apps, searching for maps or anything that might reveal my location. Anything that could give me a clue about where I was being held.

Nothing.

But there was a signal.

With trembling fingers, I typed in a number I’d memorized by heart.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips as I remembered how many times I’d wanted to call him. Back when he’d stood beneath my bedroom window, I’d often thought about picking up the phone and asking him to take me away.

But I’d never made that call. Perhaps some part of me hadn’t really wanted him to leave.

Now, I wouldn’t have hesitated for a second.

I wanted to see him. Desperately. I wanted to breathe in his familiar scent, to study every sharp line of his face until I could remember it perfectly. I wanted to know everything about him. How had he lived all those years without me? How had he ended up with the Rainn family?

I pressed the call button and held the phone against my ear.

My breath caught.

The tension was almost unbearable, stretching through my body like a wire pulled to its breaking point. My mind seemed to split in two. One part was painfully aware of every sound beyond the door, while the other clung desperately to the hope that Damian would answer.

My head was throbbing. Even the faintest movement made me dizzy. I could feel the strange, metallic taste of blood creeping up the back of my throat, and my stomach twisted with nausea.

But none of that mattered.

Not compared to the overwhelming happiness that surged through me when the call finally connected.

"Hello?"

"Damian!" I whispered, pressing my free hand over my mouth. I leaned forward, straining to hear him. I was so afraid someone outside might overhear me.

"Amelie? Where are you? Who’s holding you? What do they want?"

His voice was low and tense, each question coming faster than the last.

For a moment, my chest tightened with an almost unbearable warmth. I could hear him. After all these years, after everything that had happened, I could finally hear his voice again.

It was as though some protective part of him had reached across the distance and wrapped itself around me.

He wasn’t here, but I could almost feel his presence.

"They want to sell me. I don’t know where they’re keeping me. I somehow managed to steal a phone, but I think he’ll be back for it soon."

"Wait. Don’t hang up. We still have time. Talk to me. What did they do to you?"

In the background, I heard muffled voices, followed by a series of clicks. Someone else was clearly nearby. Damian barked an impatient order at them, demanding that they hurry up, but he never stopped listening to me.

"They hit me over the head when I was going up to my apartment. That same man was there when I was leaving to meet you at the cinema. He must have known where I lived. He was waiting for me."

I swallowed painfully.

"But now I know who ordered the kidnapping."

"There was so much blood..." The young man let out a harsh breath. "Who the hell is this bastard who ordered you?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but before I could utter a word, heavy footsteps echoed through the corridor.

My stomach dropped.

A key scraped against the lock.

My heart lurched into my throat.

"He’s here..."