Logan tapped something on his screen while sitting behind therge desk in his study. Emery sat across from him, arms crossed. She hadn’t said a word for the past ten minutes, but her eyes hadn’t left his face.


    He nced up. “Why are you staring at me? Is there something on my face?”


    Emery looked away. The walls were lined with bookshelves, but everything was too clean-too precise. Even his desk had everything in order. There wasn’t a single piece of clutter. Whatever this man did for a living, it required control.


    “You’re making it sound like I have a choice,” she muttered.


    “I didn’t say you did. I said you’re staying here. I want to keep an eye on you.”


    She stood up. “I don’t like this dynamic.”


    He raised a brow. “What dynamic?”


    “The one where I’m kidnapped by someone with a private militia and told it’s for my own good.”


    Logan leaned back. “I’m not a militia.”


    “You’re close enough. I didn’t ask to be guarded like some mafia princess. This isn’t how I nned to spend my pregnancy.”


    He shrugged. “I am not a member of the Mafia, and this is about keeping your body safe. You’re carrying something important now.”


    She shook her head and stepped toward the door. “I’m going back to my room.” The only good thing about this is that he hadn’t tied her up yet. Emery sighed.


    She had been begging him to let her go, but soon quickly realized that this doesn’t work. Now, it’s time to do something about her situation on her own.


    Logan didn’t try to stop her. She didn’t wait for a response, either.


    When she opened the door, someone was already standing there.


    He nodded once.


    She stopped briefly. The man was enormous-taller than Logan, broader too. His neck was thicker than her leg. He looked like he belonged in a wrestling ring, not outside a study door. She blinked once, then remembered the maids she saw earlier that morning. They were tall, too. Not one of them looked under six feet.


    What was this ce? A sanctuary for giants?


    The man didn’t say anything. Just waited. She gave him a short nod and walked past him. She doesn’t need someone to guide her back to her room, as it was just next door. Logan designed it like that. Apparently, he spent most of his time in his study and letting her stay nearby was the most efficient thing to do in case of emergencies.


    She stepped inside and shut the door quickly. Then she locked it.


    She dropped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Her mind wouldn’t stop.


    Earlier, Logan told her everything was “handled.” That Nina thought she had gone to her parents’ house. That her family believed she needed time away. He said it like it was simple. Like he just rewrote the narrative of her life.


    She had snorted in response. “Someone will find me.”


    Logan had leaned forward then. “You mean the ex-boyfriend who’s about to marry someone else?”


    She had mumbled something-nothing in particr, just noise. She told him her grandmother will find her. He shrugged then and tells her that her grandmother was already on her way to India.


    Emery let out another sighed before she quietly mumbled, “What’s the point of being sad, anyway? Emotions never fix anything.”


    Now, lying in this unfamiliar bed, Emery stared at the ceiling again. It was high. in. White.


    After a few minutes, she sat up, crossed the room, and unlocked the window.


    She pulled it open.


    The view was the same-forest, trees, green everywhere.


    But no guards. No patrols. No visible cameras.


    She leaned out slightly, looking to both sides. Nothing.


    Not even a sound.


    It was quiet. Too quiet.


    Emery grabbed her phone from the nightstand and stared at the screen. Still no signal. The bars were gone, and the Wi-Fi never connected in the first ce. She slid it into her pocket and stepped back toward the open window.


    She studied the exterior wall. The stone looked smooth from afar, but up close, it had rough patches-just enough ledges and grooves to possibly support her weight. It didn’t look like modern brickwork. More like something pulled out of an old fortress. It was too clean, too well-maintained, but still had the uneven texture of something ancient.


    She leaned out again and eyed theyout. Her room was on the second floor. A little too high forfort, but not impossible. The vines running along one edge of the building looked real, not decorative, so she could use it.


    No one expected someone to try to escape in the middle of the day. That was the point. This was the element of surprise.


    She hoisted herself up onto the window ledge, gripping the frame with both hands. Her legs slid out after, slow and controlled. The stone was warm from the sun. She pressed her shoe into a shallow groove and shifted her weight forward.


    The wind hit her face. She kept one hand firmly on the edge as she stretched the other toward a lower part of the stone. She climbed down slowly, her breath steady.


    Her foot slipped once, but she caught herself on a jutting rock. Her palms scraped slightly, but she didn’t stop. Her eyes kept checking her descent. Every foot counted.


    Halfway down, she paused. Her foot found another edge. She leaned into the wall and adjusted her grip. She didn’t speak. Didn’t look up. Only down.


    Sadly, this confidence didn’tst that long. Her fingers were starting to burn. The stone looked manageable from above, but it was nothing like what she expected.


    The grooves were shallow, uneven, and further apart than she realized. Every move took more strength than she nned for. Her palms were already scraped raw, her thighs tight from bracing her weight.


    She adjusted her foot, trying to press it into a narrow edge. Her shoe slipped again. She gasped and ttened herself against


    the wall. Her shoulder scraped hard against the stone, and her heel banged against the edge of a lower rock.


    “Damn it,” she muttered.


    She nced down. Still a good eight to ten feet to the ground. It looked farther now. Too far to jump without risking a twisted ankle-or worse. Besides, she’s pregnant. She didn’t want to risk it.


    She tried to lower herself again. Her grip faltered.


    Her arms shook. Her confidence drained fast.


    She paused and looked up.


    5


    Going back wasn’t impossible, but it wasn’t simple either. Her muscles were already straining. One misstep and she could fall.


    Her hand slipped.


    Her body jolted down a few inches. She clung to the stone, heart pounding. Her fingers were starting to numb.


    Her chest rose and fell faster.


    She blinked through the sunlight, searching for another hold, anything that would give her leverage. Her legs were locked in ce. If she moved now, she’d drop.


    She clenched her jaw. Maybe she should just-


    “Need help?”


    The voice came from above and behind her. Clear. Calm.


    She froze.


    Slowly, she turned her head over her shoulder.


    A shadow blocked part of the sun.


    She squinted.


    Someone was leaning out of the window. A hand rested on the frame. The other dangled over the ledge.


    Logan.


    Emery’s throat dried up. Her fingers were slipping again, but she couldn’t focus on that anymore.


    Logan didn’t wait for her to speak.


    He climbed onto the window ledge in one smooth movement.


    “What are you-”


    Before she could finish, he jumped.


    She gasped.


    Her eyes followed him as he dropped straight down. Her heart thudded.


    Hended with both feet nted, knees bent. No stumble. No roll. Just a cleannding, like he had done a thousand times. He stood up like it was nothing, brushed his hands against his sides, and looked up at her.


    What the hell was this man?


    He didn’t move right away. Just held his arms up slightly.


    “You can drop now. Don’t worry, I’ll catch you.”