Chelsea’s POV

They forced me to my knees in front of him, my heart racing as they sneered. One wrong move, and I knew I’d be a goner. “Please, Nicolo. Just let me go. I can’t live like this anymore.”

“You made your choice when you married me. Now you’re mine to keep or toss aside as I see it.”

He took a step toward me, his eyes dark and dangerous. Then, he placed his hand on my head, as if to remind me he held all the control, and there was nothing I could do about it.

“Remember, Chelsea,” he said, his voice a low whisper, “you’re nothing without me.”

Nicolo turned sharply, addressing Britney and his goons gathered around us. “Get her out of my sight,” he commanded, dismissing me like an unwanted object. “Take her back to her room. I don’t want to see her again until she remembers her place.”

I felt a mix of relief and despair wash over me. The soldiers closed in, their eyes scrutinizing me as I stood up, trying to maintain some dignity. Britney smirked, a cruel satisfaction etched across her face. “Enjoy your time in isolation, Chelsea,” she taunted, following the soldiers as they escorted me away.

As I walked through the dimly lit halls of the mansion, I felt trapped within its walls. The soldiers grabbed me, their expressions unreadable.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows, and I recognized it’s Tristan.

“I’ll take care of this,” he said, stepping forward. The soldiers exchanged glances, and to my surprise, they hesitated.

“Are you sure?” one of them asked, his tone skeptical.

“Yes,” Tristan replied firmly, his eyes darting to me with a flicker of something unrecognizable. “Just do as I say.”

Reluctantly, the soldiers backed off, allowing Tristan to approach me. “Come on,” he said, lowering his voice. “We need to move.”

“What are you talking about?” I whispered, confusion swirling in my mind.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he assured me, glancing back to ensure no one was watching. “I’m here to help.”

Before I could process his words, he grabbed my arm and led me down a narrow hallway, away from the prying eyes of Nicolo’s men. My heart raced as I followed him, adrenaline coursing through my veins. Was this a trap, or was he really here to help me escape?

“Where are we going?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“You will know,” he said simply. I don’t why but somehow I trust him.

Tristan guided me through hidden corridors, moving quickly but cautiously. The mansion felt like a maze, but he seemed to know every twist and turn. Finally, we reached a back exit, where a sleek car waited under the cover of darkness.

“Get in,” he urged, glancing over his shoulder. “We don’t have much time.”

I hesitated for a moment, but I could see the determination in his eyes. I climbed into the car, and Tristan slid in beside me, starting the engine with a low growl. As we sped away from the mansion, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders.

“What about the soldiers?” I asked, glancing back nervously.

“I distracted them,” Tristan replied, keeping his eyes on the road. “They’ll think I’m dealing with you, but I won’t let them get you back.”

“Why are you helping me?” I asked, my voice filled with uncertainty.

“Because I know what it’s like to be trapped,” he admitted, his tone serious. “I’ve seen what he does to those who cross him. He killed my family when I made one mistake.”

I didn’t have time to process his words before he turned onto a dimly lit street, pulling up in front of a mansion. “This is where The Phantom is,” he said, his expression tense. “I need you to trust me.”

My eyes widened. H-how? I remember I messaged him before but he didn’t respond to me.

Turns out, it was an inside job…

Before I could respond, he jumped out of the car and gestured for me to follow. My heart raced as I stepped out, glancing around to ensure we weren’t being followed. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation as we entered the grand mansion.

Inside, the atmosphere was tense, the air thick.

The men and women moved with purpose, but there was an underlying caution in their eyes.

At the center of it all stood him, his cold gaze sweeping over the room. His presence was overwhelming, almost stifling, a shadow that dared anyone to defy him. When his eyes landed on us, a flicker of recognition crossed his face, but no warmth followed.

"Chelsea," he said, his voice low and dangerous, sending a chill down my spine. "You're here."

I froze, the relief I’d felt only seconds ago quickly dissolving.

The intensity in his stare was formidable, as if he could see through every lie, every truth, and he was weighing each one carefully. I barely managed a nod before Tristan, sensing the growing tension, interrupted.

"Let me talk to him," Tristan said, his voice strained. "Nicolo's going to figure this out soon. We don't have time."

Elijah’s gaze shifted to him, unblinking. "Then don’t waste it,” he said coolly, his tone making it clear he expected obedience.

I swallowed, my pulse quickening. When Elijah turned back to me, he stepped forward, his presence suffocating. "You have a choice," he said, his voice a quiet threat rather than a reassurance. "You can stay here and accept my protection, or go back to Nicolo. But be warned—once you're in, there’s no turning back."

A shiver ran through me as his words sunk in. I glanced at Tristan, then back at Elijah, feeling the walls close in. My voice barely held steady. "I don’t want to go back. I want to be free."

Elijah’s expression remained unreadable, but he nodded, a dark satisfaction flashing in his eyes. "Then you’re ours now."

Chelsea’s POV

I first met the Phantom, Elijah, through Nicolo, back when the two of them were nearly inseparable.

Nicolo had introduced him like he was family, an extension of the life I’d found myself a part of when I got involved with Nicolo. Back then, I was naive enough to think that if Nicolo trusted Elijah, then I could, too.

“Chelsea,” Nicolo had said, his arm draped over my shoulders, “this is Elijah. He’s like a brother to me, so you can trust him like you trust me.” Nicolo’s words had seemed like a stamp of approval, a seal that made Elijah safe in my eyes.

Elijah barely spoke that day; he’d just given me a nod, his gaze sharp and piercing. Even then, his stare had felt intense, like he was sizing me up, figuring out what value I might hold in the world he shared with Nicolo. But I ignored the strange feeling, letting Nicolo’s word be enough.

As time went on, the bond between Nicolo and Elijah began to fracture. Their friendship, which had once seemed unbreakable, slowly started to crack. Small arguments would erupt during their late-night talks about business deals, and there was a simmering tension that even I couldn’t ignore.

Then, one night, Nicolo stormed out after a particularly heated argument I don’t know, leaving me behind. That night, it was Elijah who showed up unexpectedly, catching me off guard.

“Nicolo left?” he’d asked, his eyes colder than usual.

“Yes,” I’d said hesitantly, still reeling from the argument. “I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

Elijah’s gaze lingered on me, studying my expression. I should have been more cautious, but back then, I was tired, frustrated, and feeling abandoned by Nicolo, who become more interested in his empire than me.

“If you’re serious about wanting something better, Chelsea,” Elijah had said, his voice almost hypnotic, “you don’t have to stay under Nicolo’s control. You can always call whenever you needed me.”

I was snapped out of my thoughts as Tristan led me to a heavy door. He glanced back at me, his face tense.

“The Phantom’s inside. He said he wanted to talk to you privately.”

I nodded, heart racing as I tried to steady myself. Tristan opened the door, and there he was—Elijah, standing in the middle of the room, his hands clasped behind his back, his cold gaze already fixed on me. In this dim light, his presence was darker, sharper, and his expression was far from the friendly, welcoming look I’d foolishly hoped for.

“Chelsea,” he greeted me, his voice low, almost amused, as if he could sense the turmoil inside me. Tristan lingered in the doorway, but Elijah’s quick, cutting look dismissed him, leaving me alone with him.

“Thank you, Elijah,” I managed, forcing myself to speak. “Thank you for helping me get away from Nicolo. I don’t know what I would’ve done—”

Elijah raised a hand, silencing me instantly. He stepped forward, his presence commanding and suffocating all at once. The small bit of relief I’d felt quickly vanished, replaced by a growing unease as I met his icy gaze.

“Nicolo was careless with you,” he said, his voice calm, his tone holding no warmth. “I won’t be.”

A chill ran down my spine. I took a small step back, the weight of his words heavy in the air. “What… what do you mean by that?”

He closed the gap between us with a single, measured step, eyes locked on mine. “You said you wanted out of Nicolo’s control. Wanted to be free from him, right?”

I nodded, unsure of where he was going with this. “Yes, but…”

He tilted his head, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “You’re free from Nicolo, but freedom in this world doesn’t mean you’re safe. If you’re not his, then you’re mine.”

“Elijah,” I said, voice trembling as I took a step back.

His smile grew colder, his eyes glinting with a darkness that was worse than anything I’d ever seen in Nicolo. “You came to me, Chelsea. You wanted help, and this is it. You think I would go up against Nicolo for nothing?”

I felt a surge of panic, my heart racing as I backed up against the wall. “I thought… I thought you were different from him.”

He laughed softly, a chilling sound that made my stomach twist. “You thought wrong.” In a flash, his hand went to his side, drawing a gun and pointing it directly at me. The cold barrel was mere inches from my face, and my breath caught in my throat.

“You’re useful to me, but don’t mistake that for trust. You don’t get to just walk away from this life.” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

I stared at him, frozen with terror, barely able to breathe. Every hope I’d clung to, every shred of safety I thought I’d found, crumbled in that moment. Elijah wasn’t my savior—he was my new captor, and his grip was even tighter than Nicolo’s.

“As long as you’re in my world, you belong to me. Dare to disobey, I will kill you.”