Elara's POV,

He pushes in slowly, inch by inch, breaking my hymen with a sharp sting that faded into fullness. I cry out softly, but kiss him deeper, loving the way he's filling me.

He starts to thrust, steady and deep, his cock sliding in and out of my pussy. The library's quiet amplified every wet slap and gasp. I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him nonstop, our tongues tangling as pleasure rebuilt. My second orgasm hit suddenly, my walls squeezing his cock, milking him as I tremble against him.

He doesn't stop, pounding harder now, one hand gripping my ass and the other fondling my breasts. "Cara, come for me again." He growls. 

And I do, the third climax ripping through me, my pussy pulsing wildly around him. He groans, thrusting deep one last time before pulling out and cumming inside me. 

He rests his forehead on mine and I reach up to kiss him again. But he chuckles and kiss my cheek, "When you leave, ensure to take birth control" 

I promise him. For the first time, I feel chosen and wanted. He dresses up quietly, arranges my hair and asks me to wait.

But immediately he leaves, I dress quickly, heart pounding, and leave without looking back. 

~~

By morning, I create a new identity, buy a ticket and fly to Spain.

I cut my red hair short and dye it blonde, buy thick glasses, an apartment and clothes that belong to me.

The next day, I walk into my new college, pulse as steady as ever in my life.

"Name?" the administrator asks.

I smile.

"Elara Solis."

And just like that-I am free.

~~

The old woman smells faintly of dust. She squints at the book in her hands, fingers trembling as she flips the pages too quickly, missing the words she's trying to read.

"Take your time," I say softly, even though I was already frustrated. "There's no rush."

She smiles at me like I'm a blessing and then the doors burst open.

"Noemi," I mutter under my breath.

She storms in like a hurricane, phone pressed to her ear, and voice booming. She's yelling about something, gesturing wildly as if the person on the other end of the call can see her.

"I told you already, I am NOT doing this again-"

I close my eyes, exasperated. All eyes were on her, irritated, but she didn't even care. The peace and silence was ruined.

I gently guide the old woman toward the desk and whisper that I'll be right back, then march straight toward my very loud friend.

I grab her wrist and drag her outside as she keeps talking the entire time. When she finally hangs up, she beams.

"Elara! Baby!"

She pulls me into a hug and I shrink away instantly.

"Oh. Right." She laughs. "Forgot that you're highly allergic to hugs."

"Yes," I say dryly. "And noise. Which begs the question-why are you disturbing the peace of my library?"

She scoffs. "It's my boyfriend again. He's being an asshole."

I roll my eyes. It's always her boyfriend.

"Why not dump him?"

She grins. "Only because he has the most delicious ass. And oh...best sex ever."

I cringe but my mind betrays me, drifting to a blurred memory from five years ago. Suddenly my neck was hot. 

Noemi clicks her tongue. "Too bad your husband's dead and you've sworn off men. You'd understand me."

I give her a tight-lipped smile and pull out my phone.

"How's the project coming along?" I ask.

She shrugs and plops onto the bench. 

"You've done your part. Let me do mine. I promise it'll be the best among the best."

"If only you'd focus on the actual project instead of how legendary it'll be"

We both turn as a familiar irritated voice cuts in.

"If you spent half as much time working as you do yelling, you'd be top of the class," Camilla says.

The black-haired menace stands there with a Birkin bag in one hand and three phones in the other, looking like the absolute Queen of whatever world she lived in. 

"Fuck you, Camilla," Noemi snaps. "And get lost. I'm talking to my coursemate."

"Elara would've done so much better in law with me," Camilla mutters, with an eye roll. 

They start bickering immediately and I tune them out to look around instinctively.

Camilla notices and thrusts her car keys in my face. "He's sleeping in the car."

Without a word, I run to her car. 

~~

I open the car door to see my baby boy is curled up in the back seat, lashes resting against his cheeks, breathing soft and even. My heart melts like it does every time.

I kiss his forehead and his eyes flutter open.

"Mama?" he murmurs. "Aunt Camilla fought another teacher today. It was so funny."

I chuckle quietly. "I'm going to have to restrict your relationship with Aunt Camilla."

He laughs and slips his small, chubby hand into mine.

And I close my eyes, remembering. 

FIVE YEARS AGO

Carla and I were in the kitchen, laughing about something stupid. It had been three weeks since I met Noemi, since she dragged me home and introduced me to her mother like she'd known me all her life.

Carla was warmth personified. A mother I never had but I made sure not to get attached.

Then I threw up.

Three times.

Carla frowned. "You should take a pregnancy test."

I laughed it off.

"Your husband just died," she said gently. "It's possible."

I didn't feel guilty for lying. They could never know because that life? It was gone.

We watched the test together. I prayed to every god I didn't believe in.

Two lines appeared.

I smiled and pretended joy. I pretended to be shocked and happy.

But that night, alone, I cried.

I cried and considered killing the baby and then claiming a miscarriage. 

I just wanted to erase the last tie to a past I ran from.

I placed my hand on my abdomen, whispering to the little creature, "I'm so sorry. I just can't do this..."

The memory fades, and I squeeze Asher's hand gently.

I don't know what made me keep him. Maybe I needed proof that I could survive.

And so I named him Asher. My light. The only thing I would die for. Second to none.

That night, after I put him to bed, I stepped into my room and exhaled.

Then I open my laptop, and I become someone else.

My father didn't teach me the dark side of the web for nothing. And so, I slip into the Virelli databases like a ghost.

Their numbers fall, and their accounts bleed.

And every time their financial status drops, I smile.

Oh, how victorious it feels.

How deserved.

Elara's POV,

The lobby is massive.

Glass walls stretch endlessly upward, marble floors polished, chandeliers hanging and blinding every eye. Everything about the building screams excess.

Noemi gasps beside me.

"Oh my God," she says, spinning in a slow circle. "Elara, this place is insane. INSANE. This is the kind of company people sell their souls to work in."

I glance around once, unimpressed.

"Really?" I murmur. "How nice."

She doesn't hear the sarcasm. Noemi rarely does.

I know exactly why this place exists. This building wasn't constructed for business. It was built for ego.

Anya's ego.

My sister always loved excess. Loved being seen and loved proving she belonged in rooms she had no business standing in. Of course the Kòrvacs would build something like this for her. A monument to power and possession.

But I applied anyway because it was perfect.

Before I left that life, and disappeared into another country, I knew one thing: the Kòrvacs wanted a marriage contract with the Virellis. And Anya - sweet, cruel Anya - had married the Don himself.

Lucien Kòrvac.

While Noemi gushes about floor-to-ceiling windows and executive elevators, I smile to myself.

"Indeed," I say. "It's perfect."

~ ~

The interview room is even colder than the lobby.

Four people sit across from me. Two women and two men.

One of them doesn't need an introduction.

Lucien Kòrvac.

Worldwide CEO. Billionaire. Visionary. Public icon. Privately, Don of a Mafia dynasty.

I recognize him instantly. I mean, he has the kind of presence that doesn't need to announce itself to dominate a room. And fucking hell, he is handsome.

He doesn't look at me, not really. His gaze skims me for barely three seconds before shifting away, as though I'm as interesting as a sock.

That infuriates me more than it should.

I straighten my spine.

I'm here for the Sales Manager position, and my résumé is flawless. The years of experience, metrics that speak louder than charm and results that can't be argued with.

All they needed now was my oral professionalism.

The questions come quickly.

Market expansion strategies. Client retention. Risk mitigation. Leadership philosophy.

I answer calmly, precisely and wisely. I watch the panel exchange glances and know they are impressed. Engaged, even.

Lucien just remains silent, detached and uninterested. Until the last question.

"All right," one of the women says, smiling politely. "One final question."

"Our European expansion is underperforming. Revenue is stable, but client retention dropped 17% in six months. Marketing says pricing and finance says logistics. But I don't care who's right. If I gave you ninety days, what would you fix first?"

All of them look at me, expectant. I know they're testing my strategic thinking and forcing me to pick a side. I calmly inhale and answer,

"None of those."

Lucien looks up, they exchange looks. So I explain.

"You don't have a pricing problem. You have a trust gap. Your sales cycle is too short for your product value, and your representatives are closing deals before relationships form. Clients don't leave because it's expensive, they leave because they feel sold to, not partnered with."

A pause.

"I'd slow the process down."

They start murmuring. That's an insane answer but I and they knew it works.

"Slower means less revenue." I look Lucien who replied. His voice.

"Only short-term. In six months, your referrals double and your churn halves.

Right now, you're winning contracts but you're losing loyalty."

"If you're wrong, it's on you, Solis." Lucien leans forward, his eyes cold and indifferent.

I answer, "I wouldn't have answered if I wasn't so sure"

"Where did you learn that?" he asks and I roll my eyes inwardly.

"I study a lot," I say smoothly. "And I'm good at what I do. Not to brag."

"And yet," he replies flatly, "here you are, doing just that."

I bite my tongue, hard. How childish.

Instead of snapping, I laugh lightly, like he's made the funniest joke in the room. He narrows his eyes, studying me. Finally he says, dismissively.

"You'll do."

You'll do?!

Like I'm a chair or...or something he picked off a shelf to fill space in his palace.

Anya truly was his perfect match.

~ ~

I resume work the following week.

And immediately, I begin.

I move through the company like a quiet storm. Redirecting resources, reassigning budgets, and dissolving contracts under the guise of restructuring.

Their money disappears and information leaks. Partnerships crumble and no one suspects a thing.

Because I'm excellent at my job.

I lead flawlessly. My team respects me. And I deliver results just enough to keep the company standing while bleeding it.

I don't waste words and don't soften reprimands. I don't pretend to care because I didn't.

I was aware people called me stoic, controlled and upright. But I was efficient.

I let the company rot while ensuring it never fully collapses.

During one meeting, I pass by a group of coworkers whispering near the glass corridor.

"They say the CEO's furious," one of them murmurs.

"Someone's been leaking information," another adds. "Stealing. Big amounts."

I smile inwardly, but then stop and turn to them.

"How about instead of worrying about useless gossip, you work hard enough that the money being stolen is nothing but a speck of dust."

They scurry away without a word and I scoff.

If the CEO's running mad, he'd soon hold an investigation.

Except they can never catch me. I'm good at what I do, after all.

~ ~

Rain crashes against the glass and I frown. My car chose today of all days to betray me, sputtering once before dying completely in the parking lot. Camilla is out of town, unreachable, and so I stand by the window, phone pressed to my ear, watching the city blur under sheets of rain.

"Please," I tell Noemi, keeping my voice even. "Just pick Asher up from school. I'll owe you."

There's a dramatic sigh on the other end. "Elara, you'll owe me big time. BIG. It's raining like the heavens are angry."

"I'll buy you dinner for a month."

She replies almost immediately. "Say less. I'm on my way."

I end the call, exhaling softly.

The office is almost empty now so I'm surprised when I hear a voice too close.

"You don't look like someone who's married."

I turn slowly, forcing my expression into something neutral and polite. Lucien Kòrvac stands beside me, hands in his pockets and suit immaculate.

"You don't even act like a mother," he adds coolly.

I force a smile so tight it almost hurts.

"Season's greetings, boss."

He arches a brow. "It's the middle of May."

I lift two fingers in a lazy salute. "I am joyous and filled with festivities all year round."

For a second, I think I see something flicker across his face-amusement, maybe irritation. But then it's gone.

"I didn't see 'married' in your status," he says, eyes dropping briefly to my hand to see it bare. "Or 'widowed.'"

I follow his gaze before looking back up.

"My husband's dead," I lie easily. "Been dead for five years."

I don't know what to expect. Sympathy, discomfort, even an awkward apology.

But Lucien gives me none of that. He just grunts, unimpressed, and turns to leave.

Something in me snaps.

"How's your wife?" I ask instinctively.

He pauses and slowly turns back.

"What do you mean?"

I shrug, light and careless. "As handsome as you are, boss, you don't expect me to believe you aren't married."

I grin so wide and outrageous. He visibly recoils, making me want to laugh at the ridiculousness.

"I'm not," he says flatly. "Solis."

Then he walks away.

I stare after him, my jaw tightening. Liar.

That night, his words won't leave me alone.

I tuck Asher into bed, kiss his forehead, wait until his breathing evens out and open my laptop.

Lucien Kòrvac might've lied. Hell, everyone lies.

But the computer never lies.

And when the truth finally loads onto my screen, my breath catches.

"What the actual fuck...?"?

Elara's POV,

"...the boss is agitated. I heard he's wondering about the hacker's next plan." One of my co-workers says. I think he's the logistics manager, I can't remember his name.

"Yeah. I heard he went on a rampage in his office yesterday because the person he'd hired to find the hacker didn't do the job." Another chimes in and I inwardly roll my eyes. These people never come to work to...well, work.

"Shh, he's passing." One of them says in hushed tones and we all stand up as Lucien Kòrvac passes without a glance at us. From my seat, I can see the frustration and anger on his face. Pfft, he should be happy I've stopped.

It's been a week since that night I found out the truth. Lucien never married Anya. So I'd been just tormenting an innocent company. I stopped only to find out that it made Lucien angrier. Apparently, he'd been so close to finding the person and when the person suddenly stopped, leaving no traces, he'd gone on a rampage.

He finally passes into the elevator and everyone heaves a huge sigh. They start whispering, "I heard he fired Monica yesterday because she looked at him."

"What do you mean 'looked at him'? You mean wrongly?"

"No, he just looked at him."

I guess I've tickled the tail of the Dragon. How sweet.

~ ~

I work harder than usual after that day to replace every stolen dollar and every rerouted transaction.

One afternoon, I'm in my study, fingers flying over my keyboard, when the door burst open.

"Mama!"

Asher crashes into me with the force of pure joy, small arms wrapping around my waist. I laugh despite myself, instinctively closing my laptop halfway and Camilla leans against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"You're welcome," she says dryly.

"For what?" I ask, kissing the top of Asher's head.

"For keeping your son alive. My credit card declined and some kind sir bought him a cake."

I blink. "A what?"

"A man," she says, rolling her eyes. "Tall, expensive shoes, perfume and ridiculously handsome."

I raise a brow. "Camilla."

She scoffs. "Relax. If I liked men, I'd let him ruin my life. I almost asked for his number."

I laugh it off, shaking my head and Asher pulls back, grinning.

"He was nice, Mama. He bought me chocolate cake."

"That's good," I say softly. "As a good boy, I hope you said thank you."

Two weeks later, Asher comes home with a flier clutched proudly in his hands.

"My new principal gave me this!" he announces.

I frown, taking it. Inter-school spelling competition.

"He's five," I mutter.

Camilla shrugs as she sets her bag down. "Apparently he's a genius."

When she leaves, Asher crawls onto the couch beside me.

"Mama," he says. "The principal did something weird."

I freeze for a moment. "What kind of weird?"

"She made us all spit in cups."

I blink. "...What?"

"All of us," he insists. "She said it was for something important."

I force a laugh. "Schools do strange things these days, baby."

But something cold slides down my spine.

The next day, Lucien Kòrvac calls me into his office.

Now here's the thing: the boss never called me.

My hands shake on their own as I walk down the hallway. They know, my mind screams. They've finally caught you.

When I enter, he is on a call, looking angry, sharp, and dangerous. He doesn't even look at me. He just slams a document onto his desk and gestures for me to open it.

I do.

And my heart stops.

My vision is blurred. My lungs forget how to work.

The world tilts.

Lucien Kòrvac is the masked man from six years ago.

I look up slowly to see he is already staring at me, eyes burning.

"So," he says coldly, ending the call, "why did you hide him from me?"

I can't speak.

He slams the desk hard, and I can't even flinch.

"Speak now, Solis," he says, voice low and lethal, "and I'll consider letting you remain his parent."

"What...?" My lips tremble.

"I don't know how it happened," he continues, pacing. "I remember every woman I've slept with. Maybe I was drunk. Maybe you drugged me. But hiding my child under my nose?"

He walks closer, backing me into the wall. "That's arrogance."

He doesn't recognize me.

The realization steadies me.

Good.

I lift my chin. "So now you want to claim him? You can't just waltz in and-"

"Unfortunately," he interrupts, "I can do whatever the fuck I want. You have twenty-four hours. Bring my child to me."

Something in me snaps,, and my eyes flare.

"And who the fuck do you think you are?"

As soon as the word leaves my lips, his hand comes up and wraps around my neck.

Fear claws up my throat. I know exactly who Lucien Kòrvac is, but he doesn't know I do.

His hand tightens around my neck.

"If I don't see my boy tomorrow," he whispers, "you won't have this pretty mouth anymore."

I see that he isn't bluffing, so I do the unthinkable.

I spit in his face and slap him.

The sound echoes.

Shock flickers across his features as I bolt from the office. Everyone sees me running, but I don't care.

I go straight home and throw essentials into a bag, hands shaking. I drive to Noemi's place and lie without blinking about my mother in Canada falling sick, about urgency, and about leaving tonight.

They believe me, of course, and Carla gives me snacks for the trip.

I don't even have time to feel guilty.

I call Camilla and tell her not to pick Asher up. That I'll do it myself.

Just close to the school gate, I don't see the bike.

Just metal, impact, and finally... Darkness.

~ ~

I wake up upside down.

I'm tied and gagged. My breathing becomes shallow in the dark, suffocating room.

My mind spirals. Asher.

The metal door creaks open, and the light stabs my eyes.

"I can't believe you tried to escape," a familiar voice says coldly. "Just who do you take me for?"

Lucien emerges from the shadows looking furious as hell and somehow completely calm.

That's what terrifies me most.

I buck violently, throwing my body around in the air, screaming through the gag until my throat burns. I don't care how unhinged I look. His face twists in disgust.

He gestures once.

In seconds, hands are on me. The ropes fall away, and the gag is yanked out of my mouth.

I don't hesitate.

I launch myself at him, nails raking blindly.

"You monster!"

His men catch me before I can reach his throat, but I kick, thrash, and scream like a wounded animal.

"Where is my child?" I shriek. "Give me back my child!"

Lucien steps forward and grips my jaw so tightly my teeth ache. He forces my face up until our lips are a breath apart.

"You don't scare me," I spit. "So go on, kill me."

It's a bluff, and we both know it.

He studies my face for a long moment, then smirks.

"At least smile, Solis," he murmurs. "It's the longest moment you have."

My heart slams against my ribs. Oh God. He really might.

I refuse to flinch and instead scoff in his face.

His lips twitch, and he nods to his men. I'm tied upside down again.

"You won't get away with this," I snarl, and they put on the gag.

"I already have."

They leave, and silence swallows the room.

Hours pass. Or minutes. I don't really know.

Then I hear laughter.

My son.

My breath catches painfully as I hear his tiny footsteps.

He's close.

"Asher!" I scream through the gag, my whole body shaking, and Lucien chooses to return, unhurried.

"Relax," he says calmly. "He's having fun."

Fun?!!

My entire body shakes violently.

"How ironic," he continues. "You ran. You hid him from me. And still, you end up right here."

His fingers slide through my hanging hair like he owns it, and a chair is brought in.

He sits and opens a document.

"I don't need a wife, but I won't leave my son unprotected." A pause. "I'll give you that. You're strong."

I say nothing.

He signals, and the gag is removed again.

"You think I'd sign myself into a cage?" I hiss, and he nods once, clearly rage-baiting me.

"No. You'll sign because you have no choice. You're going to die, Solis."