Page 41 of Under His Protection

“Well, well, well,” Cole says, his voice making my blood freeze to ice. “Look at what the cat dragged in.”

“Why?” I scream, the word ripped from my throat. “Why are you doing this?”

Cole’s smile widens, his eyes gleaming with an icy amusement. “So many questions, little Ava. You’re fiercer than I remember. During all those hours working with you, leaning up against you, and showing you ideas on the drawing board. I didn’t know you had this power in you. I wonder what else you can do with that—”

“Screw you, Cole,” I hiss, my voice tight with fury.

“We almost did that, didn’t we?” he says with a glint in his eyes. “But that was a while ago. Hadn’t we been—interrupted.”

The chilling memory of his assault flashes in my mind. How could I have been so stupid? To trust him, to even think for a moment that he could be anything but a creep?

“You’re sick in the head, Cole,” I say, my voice shaking. “Doing this for nothing but sadistic pleasure.”

“Oh, well,” he says, a smug smile on his face. “There, you might be wrong, sweetheart. Don’t you remember my brother? My poor, dead brother?”

I refuse to look at him, to give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear.

“The Bournes killed him, Ava,” Cole continues, his voice a soft hiss. “Or rather, Alexander’s father did. It was all very—tragic. A drug deal gone wrong.” His words are flat and emotionless, like a robot reciting a script. “And now, Alexander gets to suffer the consequences.”

“This is all for revenge?” I say, my throat tightening and my eyes welling up. The world suddenly feels different, colder.

“Partially,” Cole says, his gaze shifting to Alexander. “But there’s much more to this, Ava. You’ll see. You’ll feel it.”

“You bastard!” Michelle screams, her voice raw. “Let him go!”

Cole chuckles a strange, cold, humorless sound. “Temper, temper, Michelle. You know I don’t like it when you get all worked up.” He turns to me, his eyes narrowing. “As for you, Ava, I’d advise you to keep your little friend in check. Wouldn’t want anything to—happen to her, would we?”

I glare at him, my body trembling with rage, but I know I am powerless. We are trapped, at his mercy.

“You-you’re a monster,” I hiss.

“Perhaps,” Cole says. “But monsters tend to win, Ava. Remember that.”

He looks at Alexander. “Isn’t that right, Alexander? You understand monsters, don’t you?”

Alexander lifts his head, a glint in his bruised eye. He spits a mouthful of blood at Cole’s feet. “Go to hell,” he growls. But even in his weakened state, there is a strength in his gaze, a fire that refuses to be extinguished.

“Always the charmer, Alexander. But your charm won’t save you this time.” He turns to his men. “Take him to the other room. Make him—- comfortable.”

As they drag Alexander away, his eyes meet mine. In that brief moment, I see a flicker, a spark of defiance that refuses to be extinguished. But I see something else, too. I see fear, the sheer terror in his gaze. And that scares me more than anything.

The door slams shut behind them, the heavy clang echoing in the room. My gaze sweeps the room, searching for anything, anything at all. It’s like a desperate prayer, a plea for a sign that this nightmare isn’t real.

But it is.

My eyes land on a small, framed photograph perched on the bedside table. It’s a picture of Cole, his smile a chilling, perfect facade. His arm is wrapped around a young woman, her eyes wide, and her face a mask.

My breath catches in my throat. I recognize her instantly.

It’s Emily.

Emily was a talented intern from Spectrum Designs who vanished without a trace a few years ago. Rumors swirled about her disappearance, including whispers of foul play, but nothing was ever confirmed.

Michelle follows my gaze.

“No one knows what happened to her,” I say, pointing at the frame.

But I know. Deep inside, my gut twists with a chilling certainty as I look around the room. She was here. At some point, at least. The subtle signs, the whispers of her presence, are undeniable. What happened to her?

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