The black SUV sped down the pitch-black interstate. The rhythmic hum of the tires against the wet asphalt filled the silent cabin.

Two hours passed. Javier's right leg began to burn with a dull, heavy numbness from the weight of Ella's head.

He shifted his knee a fraction of an inch to relieve the pressure in his muscle.

The tiny movement disturbed Ella. Her eyebrows pulled together in a tight V, and a whimper slipped past her lips.

Her hands shot out in her sleep. Her fingers clamped down hard on the fabric of Javier's pants, her knuckles turning white.

A fresh tear leaked from the corner of her closed eye. It rolled down her cheek and soaked into his pants, leaving a dark, wet stain.

Javier stared down at the expanding wet spot. A heavy, uncomfortable tightness formed in the center of his chest.

He slowly lifted his right hand. His leather-clad fingers hovered an inch above her damp hair.

His jaw clenched. He did not remove his glove. Instead, he extended his hand, the stiff black leather of his index finger pressing almost roughly against her cold skin as he swiped the tear away. He immediately retracted his hand, his muscles coiling tight as if he had just touched a live wire.

The heat from his skin seemed to ground her. Her rapid breathing slowed, and the tight crease between her eyebrows smoothed out.

Javier flexed his fingers inside the leather glove and returned his arm to the armrest.

At three in the morning, the streetlights of the D.C. suburbs began to flash through the windows, casting moving shadows across the seats.

Cale pulled the SUV to a stop outside an unmarked, secure transit garage. He put the car in park.

He turned his head slightly. "Sir, should I wake her for the transfer?"

Javier looked at the exhausted girl. "Get out," he ordered coldly.

Cale nodded, opened his door, and stepped out into the damp night.

Javier pushed his door open and stepped out. He walked around the front of the vehicle and opened the driver's side door.

As he settled into the driver's seat, Ella, still asleep, slid sideways on the back seat—the angle of the parking garage ramp tilting her loose, limp body toward the floorboard.

Javier reached back instantly. His large hand gripped her shoulder, stopping her from hitting the floorboard.

He didn't wake her. Leaving his seatbelt unfastened, he leaned over the console, and pulled her limp body over the seats, settling her into the passenger side.

He leaned across her, pulling the seatbelt over her chest. The metal tongue clicked into the buckle right next to her hip.

Javier started the engine. He put the car in drive and headed toward the center of the city.

The first harsh beam of morning sunlight pierced the windshield, hitting Ella directly in the eyes.

She blinked rapidly. Her eyes opened, staring blankly at the massive glass skyscrapers towering above them.

She realized she was sitting in the front seat. She whipped her head to the left and saw Javier's hands on the steering wheel.

Panic seized her throat. She shot up straight, pressing her back hard into the seat. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

Javier didn't take his eyes off the road. "Regulate your breathing," he ordered. His voice was flat and steady.

The absolute calm in his tone acted like a physical weight on her chest. She forced herself to take a deep breath, her racing heart slowly decelerating.

She swallowed hard. "Where are we?" she whispered.

Javier turned the steering wheel with one hand. The SUV descended into the private, brightly lit underground parking garage of a high-rise building.

He pressed the brake, bringing the car to a halt. He turned his head and looked directly into her eyes.

"This is your home now."

Javier unbuckled his seatbelt. He pushed the heavy door open and stepped out, his leather shoes echoing sharply against the concrete floor of the empty garage.

Ella fumbled with her seatbelt. Her fingers shook as she pressed the red button. She practically fell out of the car, scrambling to keep up with his long strides.

Javier walked up to a set of brushed steel elevator doors. He pressed his thumb against a glowing biometric scanner. The doors slid open in total silence.

They stepped inside. Javier hit the button for the top floor. The elevator shot upward with a force that made Ella's stomach drop.

The doors chimed and parted. They stepped directly into a massive penthouse. The walls were floor-to-ceiling glass, the furniture sharp, modern, and completely devoid of warmth.

A middle-aged woman in a crisp uniform stood waiting in the foyer. Brenda Doyle.

Brenda's face stretched into a wide, overly eager smile the second she saw Javier. She hurried forward.

Javier shrugged off his overcoat and shoved it into Brenda's hands. He pointed a long finger at Ella. "She is your responsibility now."

He fired off a rapid list of instructions. He listed Ella's dietary restrictions and sleep schedule with the cold efficiency of a military briefing.

Javier pulled his leather wallet from his inner jacket pocket. He slid out a solid black metal credit card and tossed it onto the silver tray on the console table. It landed with a heavy clink.

He checked the heavy silver watch on his left wrist. His jaw tightened.

He turned back to Ella. "I am leaving for an overseas assignment. I will be gone for fifteen days."

The air left Ella's lungs. Her eyes widened in pure panic, and she took a desperate step toward him.

Javier ignored her movement. He turned on his heel and walked straight back into the elevator. The steel doors snapped shut, cutting off her view of his face.

The numbers on the digital display rapidly decreased. The penthouse fell into a suffocating silence. Ella stood completely alone in the center of the massive room.

The moment the elevator reached the ground floor, the fake smile melted off Brenda's face. Her eyes narrowed into a look of pure disgust.

Brenda pointed a finger down the long, dark hallway. "The last room on the left. Don't make a mess."

Three days passed. Brenda took the black card and disappeared for hours. When she returned, she brought back cheap, frozen microwave meals.

Ella sat at the massive marble kitchen island. She stared down at the greasy, processed meat on her plate. Her stomach churned, but she forced herself to swallow it, terrified of causing trouble.

The cheap additives in the food began to build up in her system.

On the seventh night, Ella lay in the freezing guest bed. Her skin burned. Thick, angry red hives covered her arms and chest. She shivered violently under the thin blanket.

She forced herself out of bed. Her legs felt like lead. She stumbled down the hallway and knocked weakly on Brenda's locked door.

"Go to sleep and shut up!" Brenda yelled from inside. The volume of the television instantly blasted louder, drowning out any further noise.

Ella's knees buckled. She slid down the wall, hitting the hardwood floor. Her throat began to swell shut.

She gasped for air. A high-pitched wheezing sound tore from her chest. Black spots danced at the edges of her vision.

Whisper, the stray cat Cale had delivered in a sterile carrier two days prior under Javier's strict "pest control and asset pacification" directive, jumped out of the shadows. The cat paced around her legs, meowing frantically.

Ella's hand fell limp against the floorboards. Her eyes rolled back, and the world went completely dark.

The next morning, Brenda unlocked her door and stepped out, yawning. Her foot kicked something soft.

She looked down. Ella lay motionless on the floor, her face a terrifying shade of blue, her chest barely moving.

Brenda screamed.

Her hands shook violently as she pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed 911. Ten minutes later, the wail of ambulance sirens pierced the quiet morning air outside the building.

The elevator doors on the VIP floor of the private hospital slammed open. Javier stepped out, his dark suit radiating a freezing, lethal energy.

Cale walked a half-step behind him. His face was grim. He held a thick stack of freshly printed medical reports in his hand.

Javier's leather shoes hit the polished marble floor with heavy, aggressive thuds. The sound echoed down the empty corridor like a countdown.

Brenda sat on a plastic chair outside the room. When she heard the footsteps, she jumped to her feet, her entire body trembling.

Javier stopped directly in front of her. He didn't say a single word. He snatched the stack of papers from Cale's hand and slammed them hard against Brenda's chest.

The papers exploded out of the folder, fluttering to the floor like snow.

"What did you do?" Javier asked. His voice was a low, terrifying whisper that promised absolute destruction.

Brenda stuttered, taking a step back. "She-she's a picky eater! It was just a sudden allergy, I swear I didn't-"

Javier let out a short, dark laugh. He rattled off the exact dates and amounts of three designer handbags Brenda had purchased using the black card.

Brenda's knees gave out. She collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming down her face as she began to beg loudly.

Javier didn't look down at her. "Call the lawyers," he ordered Cale. "Make sure she rots in a cell."

Cale grabbed the collar of Brenda's uniform. He dragged her down the hallway, her shoes scraping against the marble until her crying faded away.

Javier stood alone outside the door. He took a deep breath, forcing the violent rage out of his muscles. He pushed the door open.

The room was dim. The only sound was the steady, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor.

Javier walked to the edge of the bed. He looked down at Ella. A clear oxygen mask covered her face. She looked incredibly small, her skin a translucent, sickly pale. An IV needle was taped to the back of her bruised hand.

The muscle in Javier's jaw locked. His hands dropped to his sides, his fingers curling into tight fists until his knuckles turned white.

Ella's eyelashes fluttered. She slowly opened her eyes.

She saw the tall, dark figure standing over her. Her pupils dilated, and tears instantly flooded her eyes.

She reached up with her free hand. She grabbed the edge of the oxygen mask and yanked it down. The sudden movement pulled the IV line tight, causing a streak of dark blood to back up into the clear tube.

Javier leaned over instantly. His large hand clamped down on her shoulder, pinning her flat against the mattress with undeniable force.

"Do not move," Javier ordered. His voice was harsh, but a faint tremor hid beneath the command.

Ella didn't fight him. Instead, her fingers shot out and grabbed the bottom edge of his suit jacket. She gripped the wool fabric so hard her joints ached.

She tilted her head back, looking up at him. Tears spilled over her bottom lashes, running down her pale cheeks and soaking into the pillow.

"Please," she rasped, her voice weak and broken. "Don't give me to anyone else."

She twisted the fabric in her fist. It was the only thing anchoring her to the earth.

"Let me live with you," she begged. "I'll sleep in the basement. Just don't leave me with strangers."

Javier stared down at her white-knuckled grip on his coat. His throat worked as he swallowed hard, a sudden, inexplicable tightness seizing his chest as if the oxygen had been completely sucked out of the room. He forced his face to freeze into a mask of total indifference. He reached down and grabbed her wrist.

One by one, he pried her cold, stiff fingers off his jacket.

He stood up straight, putting three feet of physical distance between them. He looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice.