Chapter 11 Shadows In The Dark

• The night was thick with silence, but Amara couldn’t sleep.
• She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and stared at the ceiling. Damian’s words echoed in her ears—You’re under my protection. No one touches you without my permission.
• the anonymous call lingered in her mind, twisting into something darker the longer she thought about it.
• Someone was watching her.
• The way he said it unsettled her. Was it a promise or a warning?"Not yet," he murmured.
• A chill raced down her spine.
• A vibration from her nightstand jolted her out of her thoughts. Her phone screen glowed in the darkness. Unknown Number.
• Her pulse pounded.
• For a moment, she considered ignoring it, just like Damian had told her. But fear and curiosity tangled together, making it impossible to resist.
• She picked up. "Hello?"
• A low chuckle. "I see you don’t listen to good advice."
• Her breath caught in her throat. It was the same voice from earlier.
• "Who are you?" she demanded, forcing strength into her voice.
• "Someone who knows exactly what Volkov is capable of," the voice replied smoothly. "And trust me, you don’t want to be around when he decides you’re no longer useful."
• A chill ran down her spine. "You don’t know anything about me."
• "Don’t I?" The voice was taunting now. "You think you’re different? Special? That he actually cares? You’re just another piece on his board, Amara. And pieces get sacrificed."
• Her grip tightened on the phone. "Why should I believe you?"
• A pause. Then, in a quieter voice, the caller said, "Because I was you once. And I barely made it out alive."
• The line went dead.
• Amara stared at her phone, her heart thudding like a drum in her chest.
• She was shaking. Not from the words—but from the way they felt true.
• Morning came too soon. Amara barely slept, but she didn’t have the luxury of staying in bed and thinking about the call. She had work to do—and a dangerous man waiting for answers.
• When she arrived at the office, Damian was already there, sitting behind his desk with the kind of stillness that made her uneasy. His sharp gaze locked onto her the moment she stepped inside.
• "Who called you?" His voice was calm, but there was a razor’s edge to it.
• Amara hesitated. She should tell him. But something in her gut told her that holding onto this information might be her only advantage.
• "Just a scam call," she lied, forcing a casual shrug. "Nothing important."
• Damian’s eyes darkened. He leaned back in his chair, tapping a pen against the desk. "You don’t lie very well, Amara."
• Her stomach clenched.
• "You’re not going to tell me, are you?"
• "I don’t see why I should," she shot back. "I’m not your prisoner, Damian."
• His expression didn’t change, but the air in the room grew heavy.
• Before she could respond, the office door swung open. Luka. One of Damian’s most trusted men, tall and built like a tank, stepped inside with a grim expression.
• "You need to see this," Luka said, tossing a folder onto the desk.
• Damian opened it. His jaw tensed. Amara leaned forward, but before she could glimpse the contents, he snapped it shut.
• "Where did you get this?"
• Luka crossed his arms. "It was left outside the club. Addressed to you."
• Damian’s expression darkened. "Someone’s playing games."
• Amara swallowed. "What was in there?"
• Damian exhaled sharply, then met her gaze. "A photo."
• Her brows furrowed. "Of what?"
• He hesitated for just a second too long. Then, finally, he answered.
• "You."
• Amara’s breath caught.
• It wasn’t just the phone call. Someone was watching her.