The tires kicked up gravel as the sleek black SUV curved down the old forest road, headlights slicing through mist and moonlight.
Liana clutched her seatbelt, her heartbeat still thundering from the moment they'd fled the clinic. She hadn't even had time to lock the medical cabinets. One of the stray cats was probably curled up on the examination table by now.
"What is this place you're taking me to?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
Alexander didn't look away from the road. "Somewhere no one knows about. Not even my board."
She raised an eyebrow. "That's oddly specific."
He allowed himself the smallest smirk. "I own over seventy properties. Ten are for show, twenty for business, and a few… for disappearing."
"So this is your vanishing trick."
His tone darkened. "It's more than that. It's where I go when I need to become someone else."
Liana sat back, watching him silently. Every mile they drove, she felt the layers peeling off him. He wasn't just a CEO anymore. He was a man built on secrets, and maybe just maybe she was one of them.
Two hours later, they pulled through a wrought iron gate covered in vines. On the other side stood a mansion—but not the kind in magazine spreads or corporate retreats.
This house was old. Gothic architecture. Stone walls laced with ivy. A soft glow seeped from a single window above the front porch.
Liana blinked. "You live here?"
"Sometimes," Alexander said, stepping out and reaching for her bag. "It was my mother's. She called it her sanctuary. No cameras. No staff. No traceable power grid."
He pushed open the creaking front door. Dust shimmered in the air like glitter caught in starlight.
Inside, bookshelves lined the walls. A piano sat untouched in one corner. Paintings of stormy seas and glass ships decorated the hall. It was beautiful but it felt… haunted.
"Haunted, isn't it?" he said quietly, catching her expression.
"Just a little."
He led her to a side wing. "You'll stay here. It's safe. I'll make sure of it."
She watched him walk away this man with iron in his voice and ghosts in his eyes and for the first time in years, she felt safe enough to fall apart.
Liana wandered the west wing of the estate that night, fingers trailing the dark wood railings and faded wallpaper. She found herself drawn to a glass conservatory filled with plants that had somehow survived years of abandonment ferns, orchids, wild ivy reclaiming its place among cracked tile.
She curled up on a couch, blanket over her shoulders, watching the rain beat softly against the panes. For a moment, everything was still.
Then she heard the soft notes of piano.
Not rehearsed.
Not practiced.
Just… mourning.
She followed the sound to the music room and found Alexander at the grand piano, his back to her, sleeves rolled up, head bowed.
"You play," she whispered.
He didn't look at her. "Only here."
There was something in the way his hands moved over the keys. Not the confidence of a CEO, but the hesitation of a boy who had lost something and didn't know how to say it.
She stood quietly beside him.
He stopped playing but didn't look up.
"She died here," he finally said. "My mother. She didn't want hospitals. Said she didn't trust white walls or silver instruments."
Liana's chest tightened. "I'm sorry."
"She was a doctor once, like you. But she left it all behind. Said the system eats the good ones first."
That landed hard.
That landed hard.
"She left me this place so I'd never forget who I was. Or who I could be."
Then—a knock at the front door.
They both stiffened.
No one was supposed to know this place existed.
Alexander rose immediately, his expression hardening as he moved for the entryway. Liana stayed behind but close enough to hear.
He opened the door.
Rain swept in with the wind and standing beneath the old porchlight was a tall woman in a black coat, dripping wet, face pale but regal.
Elena.
His executive assistant.
"Alexander," she said urgently, brushing wet hair from her eyes. "You need to hear what Julian's planning. And it's worse than we thought."
Behind her, headlights appeared in the far distance—slow, creeping.
Not headlights.
A surveillance drone. Silent. Watching.
Liana stepped forward. Alexander pulled her behind him instinctively.
He turned to Elena. "You weren't followed?"
"I was careful. But Julian's moving fast."
Then she glanced at Liana.
"So this is her."
Liana stood tall. "Yes. And I'm not going anywhere."
Elena's gaze was unreadable. "Good. Because the war's already started."