Submitting to my Ex Uncle-Chapter 246

The door shut behind him with a heavy click that echoed far too long.

Elias didn’t move.

For a long time, he just stood there in the hallway with his hand still on the door handle, and his reflection faint in the steel surface. His knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping it.

He released it slowly, letting out the sound of his exhale trembling, quiet and broken.

The corridor was dim, lit by a single bulb that flickered every few seconds. He stared at the floor until his vision blurred. His pulse thudded against his throat, unsteady, uneven.

She hadn’t screamed.

Not once.

He told himself that was good, and that it meant she was strong. But it didn’t feel good. It felt like punishment.

He started walking.

His boots echoed down the corridor, and every step was heavy with a silence that scraped at his skull. He could still hear her breath. He could still hear that tiny, choked inhale she made when she first saw him.

She had looked at him like salvation. And then like a stranger. And then like heartbreak itself.

He ran a hand over his face, the sound of his palm dragging across his stubble harsh in the quiet. He wanted to smash something. To hit a wall. And to rip Theresa’s hand away from her the moment that knife touched Amara’s skin.

But he hadn’t.

He couldn’t.

He was too deep in it now.

Carlos had eyes everywhere. The moment he slipped, and the moment he showed a single sign of loyalty that wasn’t theirs, Amara would be dead before he could reach her again.

He reached the far end of the corridor and leaned against the wall. The concrete was cold against his back. His chest rose and fell slowly, like he was teaching himself how to breathe again.

The knife mark. Her blood. Her eyes. The tears in them, before he turned his back, and walked away.

They wouldn’t leave his head.

He had told himself this was temporary, that he could play the monster if it meant keeping her alive. But watching Theresa hurt her... and standing there doing nothing, that wasn’t pretending anymore. That was becoming.

He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening.

"Sir?"

He didn’t turn. He knew it was one of Carlos’s men.

"Boss wants you in the control room."

Elias straightened. The expression on his face wiped clean in an instant, and became cold, calm, and unreadable again. "Tell him I’m on my way."

Carlos was supposed to be with Dominic. Why the change of plans?

The man nodded and left.

Elias stayed there for another moment, his hands curling into fists. His throat felt dry. His pulse was uneven.

He turned and looked once more at the door behind him.

If he closed his eyes, he could still see her face from the exact second she realized he wasn’t there to save her. The light that went out of her eyes. The disbelief that morphed into something quieter... something that shattered him from the inside.

That was the moment she stopped believing in him.

He could survive bullets. Torture. Lies. But not that.

He pressed a hand over his mouth, stifling a low, guttural sound that threatened to escape. It was a sound that was too close to grief.

He stayed like that until he could breathe again.

Then, with one last look toward the locked room, Elias straightened, his face going blank again, and walked toward the control room.

Every step he took felt heavier. Every echo sounded like betrayal.

........

Inside the control room

Carlos was waiting. He had a cigarette smoke curled in the air, faint and bitter.

"Theresa tells me she gave our guest a little reminder of her place," Carlos said without looking up from the monitors.

Elias didn’t answer.

Carlos finally glanced at him. "You look pale."

"Long day," Elias said evenly.

Carlos smiled faintly, like a man who saw through everything and enjoyed it. "She means something to you, doesn’t she?"

Elias’s jaw twitched, but his expression stayed smooth. "She means something to Dominic."

"Mm." Carlos nodded slowly, clearly entertained. "And that doesn’t answer anything. She means something to you, right?"

Elias said nothing.

Carlos turned back to the screens where a live feed showed two rooms. One was with Celeste in it, and one with Amara. Both tied. Both bleeding in different ways.

Carlos chuckled. "You know, I almost feel sorry for the Cross boy. He never learn to separate the heart from the job."

Elias’s voice was low. "Maybe that’s what makes him human."

Carlos’s eyes lifted. "Careful," he said softly. "You start talking like that, and I might think you’ve gone soft."

Elias didn’t flinch. "You’d know if I did."

They stared at each other. The air was thick, humming with quiet tension.

Carlos smiled again, slow and sharp. "I like you, Elias. You know how to pretend."

Elias forced a faint smile in return, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

He looked once more at the screen. He stared at Amara’s still figure, with her head bowed, and the faint trickle of blood down her arm.

He wanted to punch through the glass, but stayed calm.

Instead, he said, "What’s next?"

Carlos leaned back in his chair. "Next, we see how far Dominic will go when we show him she now has blood in her lips."

Elias nodded once, masking the rage rising in his chest.

When he left the room, his hands were trembling again, but his face was calm. He was always calm. Always the perfect soldier.

Until he reached the far hallway and the cameras no longer followed. Then, and only then, he allowed his composure to break.

He pressed his hand against the wall, his head bowed, and his breath ragged. His shoulders shook once, violently, before he forced himself still again.

He whispered it under his breath. It was a promise meant for no one to hear. A promise he meant

"I’ll get you out. Even if it kills me." He choked on his breath. "I love you, I’m sorry."