His Private Hell - Chapter 75: Chapter 75

Eella’s fingers trembled as she pressed her ear against the steel door of the safe room. The distant chaos on the 33rd floor had become a muted roar—glass shattering, guards shouting, a single, sustained groan of metal bending under force. She slid down to sit on the cold concrete, legs pulled to her chest, clutching Garrison’s hand like a lifeline. The filtered air smelled of antiseptic and fear—yet when she dared a glance at Garrison, she saw in his eyes the same wild spark she felt blazing inside herself: they were not victims. They were predators in their own right.
He knelt beside her, breath steadying. “They’ll break through soon,” he whispered. “We need a plan.”
She nodded, hair falling across her face. “We fight back—here, now.” The word tumbled out with trembling conviction. “No more hiding.”
A low grinding began as the hinges of the hidden door outside screamed under pressure. Garrison’s jaw clenched. He pressed a button on the wall—an override for the lock. The steel door slid open, cracking like an earthquake, and they sprang out together, hearts pounding. The main chamber had been transformed into a war zone.
The bed lay overturned, chains snarled. Mirrors shattered—hundreds of fragments glittered like malevolent stars against the red velvet walls. Smoke curled from broken vents; the scanner lights flickered between red and white. Their pursuers—two men in black tactical gear—took them in with a glance, weapons raised, but paused. Recognition flashed in their eyes.
“Stand down,” Garrison said, voice low but authoritative.
The taller guard hesitated, fingers on the trigger. He stepped forward, removed his helmet—revealing Walter, one of Garrison’s own executive board members. His uniform bore the company crest, but his eyes were cold. “Boss,” Walter greeted, voice clipped. “Your orders, sir?”
Garrison exhaled, shock slicing Eella’s chest. “Leave.”
Walter’s gaze flicked to her. “She’s not authorized.”
“Authorized by me,” Garrison said. “We end this now.”
Walter glanced at his partner—Astrid, Eella’s former mentor, eyes a storm of loyalty torn in two—then at the broken shards scattered at Eella’s feet. He holstered his rifle. “As you wish.”
The two men melted back into the shadows, disappearing through the corridor. Silence reclaimed the room, thick and expectant. Eella exhaled a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.
Garrison crossed to the shattered mirror wall and picked up a jagged shard. He held it like a sacred relic. “This room… was my creation. My confession. My curse. I thought I could hide everything here—and then I lost control.”
Eella stepped close. “They came for me,” she said softly. “But they answered to you.”
He met her gaze in the fractured reflections all around them. “They answer to the company. And I answer to you.”
Her pulse thundered. She reached for his hand, pressing it against her heart. “Then tell me everything.”
He sank to the floor, glass crunching beneath his knees. “I’ve never been more afraid.”
She knelt beside him. “Of what?”
He closed his eyes. “That by saving you, I lose myself.”
She cupped his face. “Then hold on to me.”
His breath caught, lips brushing hers in a vow neither needed. Then, abruptly, the screens mounted on the wall flickered to life—hundreds of live video feeds from security cameras all over the city: boardrooms, alleys, penthouses. Each one bore a single target marker—Eella Hart. A countdown timer had begun: 02:59:47…
She gulped. “They’re not just after me. They’ve boxed us in.”
Garrison rose, pulling her up. He pressed a small device into her hand—an EMP pulse remote. “This will shut down the building’s electronics. We get one shot.”
Eella’s grip tightened. “When the lights go out?”
“They’re trapped in the dark,” Garrison said. “We slip out.”
A fresh roar echoed as the outer door burst open. Walter and Astrid flanked a phalanx of corporate security, weapons raised.
Garrison nodded to Walter. “Now.”
Walter hit a button on his radio. Immediately, monitors went black. The scanner lights died. The hum of machines ceased. The furnace below went silent, leaving a cold, eerie stillness.
In the darkness, Eella slipped her hand into Garrison’s. He kissed her palm, then drew her close. Their breaths mingled as footsteps pounded down the corridor.
They bolted through the side door—past broken chains, melted fixtures, stained velvet. Through the corridor, the safe elevator doors yawned open—a single car waiting.
As they stepped in, Garrison pressed the EMP remote. The elevator lights flickered, then shut. The car lurched downward.
Behind them, the 33rd floor erupted in chaos: yells, gunshots, the thunder of boots on concrete.
They held each other as the elevator streamed down. The city lights regained power above them, unaware of the inferno now silenced below.
When the doors opened on the lobby, Eella’s phone lit up: Location uploaded. Extraction in 45 minutes.
She looked at Garrison—fear and determination locked in his gaze. “We’ve got to move.”
He nodded. “One more stop.”
They sprinted out into the rain-slicked streets. The world felt alive again, but also toxic—drivers honking, sirens wailing, flashing lights in the distance. They wove through the chaos to a matte-black SUV idling under a streetlamp.
Ollie slid into the driver’s seat, nodding grimly. “Heard you’d need a ride.”
“Thank you,” Eella panted, climbing in beside him. Garrison followed, slamming the door.
As the SUV peeled away, Eella pressed her face against the cool window, watching the penthouse tower recede.
Garrison reached into his coat, placed something in her hand: a single mirror shard, embossed with one letter: G.
“It’s all in pieces now,” he murmured. “We gather them. Rebuild.”
She turned it in her palm—sharp, reflective, dangerous. “Then let’s start digging.”
He started the engine. “First stop: the archives.”
She exhaled, steeling herself for another descent. “This time,” she said, “we burn them first.”
And with that vow, they sped into the heart of the city, rain masking their trail, darkness their shield—and the inferno of their lives left smoldering in the night.