Chapter 4 She Knows The Truth

• It was nearly one in the morning.
• The crystal chandelier in the suite had been dimmed, leaving only the soft glow of the corner lamp and faint moonlight filtering through the thin curtains by the balcony. The ticking clock echoed in the silence, each second loud and deliberate, like a countdown synced with Elena’s erratic heartbeat.
• Dominic was asleep on the bed beside her. His chest rose and fell slowly. His head tilted to the side, breath heavy but steady.
• Elena sat at the edge of the bed, still in the same thin dress—now wrinkled and clinging to her skin. Her eyes stared blankly at the shadow on the floor… before shifting to the man beside her.
• Now.
• The voice in her head was clear.
• If you don’t do this tonight, you might never get another chance.
• Carefully, her fingers crept toward Dominic’s pants, hanging from the chair next to the bed. It wasn’t far, but every step felt like walking across a minefield.
• Her hand trembled slightly as she reached into the pocket—fingertips brushing against something flat and warm: his phone.
• Slowly, almost soundlessly, she pulled it out. She turned away, crouched under the dim light, and tapped the screen.
• Locked.
• Her face tightened. But then she glanced at Dominic.
• Holding her breath, she brought the phone up to his face.
• Click.
• The screen lit up.
• Elena’s heart nearly stopped.
• Quickly, but with trembling fingers, she opened the browser and typed:
• “Benjamin Palvin.”
• Hundreds of results flooded the screen. News articles. Business interviews. Photos of a silver-haired man, head of Palvin Group—a real estate and investment empire in Las Vegas.
• Then she searched again:
• “Rosalia Palvin.”
• A headline jumped out at her.
• “Tragic Princess Palvin: After Just Two Months Missing, the Family Halts Search, But Still Funds Private Agents to Locate Her.”
• There was a photo—an entire family standing in mourning. In the center, a man and woman held up a picture of a young girl.
• Elena leaned closer.
• That face… that smile… that was her.
• Her hair had been long and wavy then, not straight like now. Her eyes sparkled, not empty. Her lips smiled, not trembling with fear.
• Elena covered her mouth. Tears fell in silence. Her head swam with questions she’d buried for weeks.
• "Who am I… ?"
• A soft noise behind her made her freeze.
• She turned slowly.
• Dominic was still lying there. But…
• His eyes were half open. Staring at her with an unreadable expression—part disappointment, part anger… and part sorrow?
• Without a word, Dominic reached out and took the phone from her trembling hands.
• They stared at each other in silence.
• “I knew you’d try to remember,” he said, voice heavy and low.
• “But I warned you… knowing too much would destroy you.”
• Elena bit her lip. Her eyes stayed locked on him. “What do you mean?” she whispered.
• Dominic sat up and rose from the bed. His figure loomed in the shadows, casting a much larger silhouette on the wall.
• “What you saw… isn’t the whole truth,” he said. “I remember more about you than you’re ready to handle.”
• Elena stood slowly, her eyes gleaming with tears.
• “I’m not yours, Dominic. I have a family. They—”
• “—left you,” he cut her off, his tone sharp.
• Elena flinched.
• “Yes, they searched,” he continued. “But not out of love. They want you because you’re an asset. A name. A title. A piece of inheritance. A political pawn.”
• He stepped closer.
• “I’m the only one who saw you as more than a tool. I saw you as something… mine.”
• That word sliced through her.
• Elena lifted her chin. Her voice trembled, but her words were steel.
• “You don’t own me.”
• Dominic stared at her. Long. Cold. But said nothing.
• Then he turned toward the balcony and said without looking back:
• “Tomorrow… we’re going home.”
• Elena stood frozen, her legs weak. But her eyes burned with something fierce. For the first time, she knew:
• The truth about her past didn’t live in this room.
• It was out there.
• And she would find it.
• She stood at the door, hand gripping the cold knob. Her heart pounded in her chest, but her steps were sure. Her voice came out soft—barely a whisper—but each word sliced through the silence like a blade.
• “I’m going home,” she said, without turning back.
• The bed creaked behind her. Then Dominic’s voice exploded—rough, angry.
• “You’re a damn fool, Elena!”
• She froze. Her body tense.
• Dominic stood in the middle of the room, chest heaving. His face a mixture of rage, fear… and desperation.
• “You don’t even remember who you are!” he shouted. “You think that house will welcome someone who can’t even recall her own birthday? Someone who can’t tell the difference between a butler and her own father?!”
• Elena didn’t move. Her hands clenched at her sides.
• Dominic stepped forward, his voice dropping but turning ice-cold. “They might not even want you back. They want your legacy. Your name. Just like they always did.”
• Elena slowly turned her head, meeting his gaze.
• But now her eyes didn’t flicker.
• They burned.
• “I don’t trust you,” she said, voice calm but laced with venom. “And I will never trust a man who says he saved me—then locked me away.”
• Dominic looked like she had just slapped him. His mouth opened… but no words came. He stared at her like she had become a stranger he couldn’t control.
• Elena turned the knob. Cool night air touched her skin like the kiss of freedom.
• “I’ll find my answers myself,” she whispered, stepping through the doorway without a second glance.
• And the door closed with a click louder than a gunshot.
• “Go, then!” Dominic roared behind her. “But if I find you again, you’ll never leave me!”
• His voice cracked with fury. He stormed toward the table, grabbed the nearest bottle, and shattered it against the wall.
• Breathing hard, he snatched his phone and called a number labeled Lukas.
• “Follow Elena. Don’t lose her,” he growled.
• “Yes, Sir.”
• Elena walked fast and light, despite the knot in her chest.
• The night air chilled her bare skin. Her dress clung with cold sweat, and she realized just how exposed she was. No underwear. No protection. Nothing. Her eyes darted left and right—panic rising. She didn’t recognize anything. Just towering buildings, empty streets, and the wary glances of strangers.
• But she kept moving.
• Because even if she had nothing… she had one thing Dominic never would.
• The will to be free.
• Then she heard it—coarse laughter echoing from a dark alley.
• “Well, look what we got here… a movie star lost in the wrong neighborhood.”
• Three men stepped from the shadows. Dirty clothes. Scarred faces. Hungry eyes.
• “You out here all alone, sweetheart?”
• “That dress is asking for trouble. You looking for a good time?”
• Elena backed away, pulling her dress tighter across her chest.
• “Don’t touch me… I just want to pass,” she said, voice barely steady.
• “You don’t look like you’re just passing,” one sneered. “You look like a runaway slut.”
• Before she could react, one of them grabbed her arm. She screamed.
• “Let go of me! Help, someone!”
• They shoved her into the alley, pinning her to the wall. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her voice cracked.
• “Please, someone help me!”
• “DON’T. TOUCH. HER.”
• The voice boomed like thunder, cold and furious.
• The men turned. At the mouth of the alley stood a figure—eyes blazing like fire.
• Dominic.
• Without a word, he charged.
• One man pulled a knife. Dominic caught his wrist mid-swing and slammed him to the ground with a sickening crack.
• “ARGHH!!”
• The other two tried to run—but Dominic moved faster. A kick to the chest sent one flying into the trash. The last was yanked by the collar, slammed against the wall, and dropped limp.
• Silence.
• Dominic stood before Elena, chest heaving, face locked in fury.
• She trembled, hugging herself. Their eyes met—electric and raw.
• “You’re insane,” Dominic growled. “I told you—this world doesn’t care about you.”
• Elena lowered her gaze, tears falling again. But before she could speak, Dominic draped his jacket over her shoulders.
• “Don’t act like you care,” she muttered. “You’re just scared I’ll actually get away.”
• Dominic stared at her for a long time. “I care… in my own way.”
• “Your way? Locking me up? Hiding my past?!”
• “My way of keeping you from dying in some filthy alley!”
• Their voices clashed like knives. But their eyes… both bled.
• Elena looked up, soaked in tears. “I hate you.”
• Dominic exhaled deeply. His eyes fell to the ground.
• “I don’t care. Because even if you hate me… I won’t let anyone else touch you.”
• For a moment, only their breathing filled the silence.
• Dominic reached for her arm—gently, not forcing… but firm enough to show he wouldn’t lose her again.
• “Let’s go home,” he whispered.
• Elena said nothing. No yes. No no.
• But she didn’t resist when Dominic led her out of the alley.
• The one place where fear and safety had just collided.