Oh to be loved

7

Amara lay awake in the darkened room, her mind churning with everything she had discovered. The image of Cillian standing in that basement office, the photographs of her spread out on the desk, haunted her. He had been watching her for years, and that knowledge gnawed at her, making her feel exposed, vulnerable, like a pawn in his game.

But she wasn't going to play by his rules anymore.

She stared at the ceiling, listening to the quiet of the mansion. The silence felt heavy, as if the house itself held its breath, waiting for something to break. Her thoughts kept drifting back to what Declan had said-someone connected to Malik had breached the perimeter. That meant Malik was close. It meant he was trying to find her.

Her chest tightened with hope, but also fear. If Malik was caught, there was no telling what Cillian would do to him. She had seen glimpses of the ruthlessness that lay beneath his calm exterior, and she knew he wouldn't hesitate to eliminate anyone he deemed a threat.

She needed to act. She couldn't sit here and wait for Cillian to tighten his hold on her any further. Malik was her way out, but finding him without alerting Cillian was going to be dangerous. She had to be smart, had to think ahead-because this might be her last chance to escape.

---

The next morning, Amara kept her routine as normal as possible. She dressed, ate breakfast in the grand dining room, and pretended like she hadn't been to the basement or discovered the truth about Cillian's obsession with her. But her mind was racing, planning, searching for any opportunity to slip away and find Malik.

Cillian had been absent at breakfast, which gave her some relief. His presence always felt like a shadow looming over her, and without him around, she could think more clearly. But she knew his absence wasn't a good sign. He was probably dealing with the breach Declan had mentioned, tightening security, ensuring that no one got in-or out.

She spent most of the morning wandering the estate, Declan's watchful eyes on her from a distance. He was always close, always present, and it made her skin crawl. He wasn't as cold as Cillian, but he was just as dangerous. She knew that if she made one wrong move, he would stop her without hesitation.

By mid-afternoon, Amara found herself in the garden, sitting on a stone bench beneath a massive oak tree. The flowers were in full bloom, the air fragrant with their scent, but she felt no peace. She was waiting-waiting for a moment, for something to shift.

And then it happened.

She saw Declan speaking with another one of Cillian's men near the far end of the garden. Their conversation seemed intense, urgent. Whatever was happening, it was pulling Declan's attention away from her.

This was it.

Her heart raced as she stood, casually walking toward the path that led toward the eastern edge of the estate. It was the most secluded part of the property, with fewer guards. She had seen it before, but until now, she hadn't dared to approach it. She couldn't appear too eager, too hasty. Cillian's men would be watching, and any sudden movement would set off alarms.

But now, with Declan distracted, she saw her chance.

Amara quickened her pace once she was out of sight, her pulse thundering in her ears as she reached the tall hedges that bordered the estate. Beyond them, the thick forest stretched out for miles-dark, unknown, but her only possible route of escape.

She glanced back, her heart pounding, expecting to see one of Cillian's men following her. But the path was empty. Declan and the other guard were still engrossed in their conversation at the far end of the garden. It was now or never.