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But his body suddenly went limp.

His knees buckled, and he slid down the wall, then collapsed onto the ground—paralyzed.

Krystal stood over him with a smug look. “You really thought you could control me?” She kicked his thigh. “In your dreams, asshole.”

Lorenzo’s eyes blazed. Rage flickered across his face, but he couldn’t move or speak.

Krystal grinned, pulling out her phone. “The mighty CEO of Velare Hotels, brought down to his knees like this. This deserves to go in the record books.” She snapped a few photos. “I should frame it.”

Lorenzo twitched, making her jump back, startled. “Damn—he can still move after that pill?”

Footsteps echoed down the hall.

“Shit,” she hissed and darted away.

Xander rushed around the corner, spotted Lorenzo, and helped him up. Lorenzo’s limbs were slowly responding again, and he pushed off the wall with fury burning through him.

“I’ll make her pay for this,” he snarled. “CHASE HER!”

Krystal sprinted out onto the street, her lungs burning. But she could hear Lorenzo behind her—closing in fast.

“Shit!” she gasped, forcing her legs to move faster. Her heart pounded in her chest. ‘I can’t let him find out where I live. No matter what.’

At the last moment, Krystal veered off and sprinted toward a different address. She managed to lose him—just for a second. Taking full advantage, she ducked into a familiar house and rushed inside, breath ragged.

"I'm so damn tired,” Krystal panted under her breath, slamming the heavy entry gate behind her with a sharp thud. “Two damn kilometers, and I still couldn’t ditch these bastards.”

Sweat clung to her brow, her legs ached, and every breath burned her lungs. Her fingers trembled as she pushed herself forward, heels scraping against the stone path of the front garden. Behind her, Lorenzo and Xander were closing in fast—she could hear the crunch of gravel under their shoes, growing louder with each desperate step she took.

Clutching her side, she pushed her aching body harder, half stumbling through the front yard. Her heart pounded like a war drum. When she reached the porch, she slammed her fist against the door, gasping for air.

It swung open, and Damion stood there in a loose T-shirt and sweats, clearly not expecting anyone—least of all her. His brows shot up at the sight of Krystal on his doorstep, hair wild, eyes wide with panic.

Kara appeared behind him, her eyes widening in alarm at the sudden commotion.

Krystal didn’t wait for questions. She shoved past them both, her shoulder brushing Damion’s, and slammed the door shut with a loudthudthat echoed through the hallway. She leaned back against it, chest heaving, as she stared at them.

“It’s an emergency,” she gasped, holding her stomach. “Really urgent. Kara, can you hide? Anywhere—attic, basement—I don’t care. Just make sure no one is able to find you.”

Kara nodded quickly, caught between confusion and fear, and turned on her heel, rushing up the stairs without another word.

Krystal turned to Damion, eyes wild. “There’s no time to explain. Lorenzo’s right behind me. If he comes, don’t tell him I’m here.”

Damion blinked. “Wait—didn’t you two already get divorced? Why the hell is he still chasing you like a lunatic?”

Before she could answer, the doorbell rang.

Krystal’s breath caught. Her pulse spiked.

She didn’t speak. Just spun around and darted deeper into the house, disappearing into the shadows of the hallway like a hunted animal.

Damion stared after her for a split second, then sighed and opened the door cautiously.

There stood Lorenzo, tall and furious, chest rising with controlled breaths. His black coat was half-open, wind tugging at the hem. His eyes narrowed the second he saw Damion.

At once Lorenzo’s body went rigid. His eyes narrowed in surprise. “You? What are you doing here?” Lorenzo asked coldly.

Damion raised an eyebrow, arms folding across his chest with a calmness that bordered on smug. “I should be asking you that. This is my house. Why are you knocking on my door in the middle of the night?”