Page 38 of Fallen Empire (The Fallen Trilogy #2)

Millie

I hung up the phone, and every single nerve in my body felt like fire.

If Jaxson was leaving Savannah to head to the office, whatever the fuck was going on was not good. Not at all.

He didn’t leave her. Ever. Especially Not now. Not after everything she’s been through.

I shifted in place, my foot tapping against the scuffed tile floor of the café, trying to will the order to come quicker.

My eyes scanned the room, restless. Two people by the window.

A woman at the counter, reading a menu she’d clearly already decided on.

Some guy in a baseball cap, nursing a half-empty coffee like it owed him money.

Everyone looked normal. Relaxed. Like they had no idea my entire world might’ve just cracked wide open.

Behind the counter, the teenage barista laughed at something her coworker said. She leaned her elbows on the prep station, twirling a straw in her fingers like we weren’t all walking around with targets on our backs.

I wanted to scream at her to move faster.

Didn’t she know people were in danger? Didn’t she know I was in danger?

I stood straighter, crossing my arms to still the tremor in my hands. My mind raced, trying to rationalize. Trying to calm the storm Jaxson’s voice had stirred in my chest.

Maybe I was just being paranoid. Maybe the panic was just leftover adrenaline. I’d get the food, walk back to the Penthouse, and everything would be fine.

It had to be.

There was no other option.

The only way someone would get to Savannah now was if they broke into the fortress that made up Jaxson’s Penthouse.

And after what happened last time, he’d amplified security tenfold. He wouldn’t dare make the same mistake twice.

And Ben…

God, Ben was going to be so pissed that I left.

But he’d get over it. Eventually.

Maybe this would make us even—for him not telling me Aleksei was still a threat.

Was that it? Was that what I heard in Jaxson’s voice? The urgency. The way he said my name like he’d been holding his breath, waiting for me to answer.

Was it all because of Aleksei?

“Here you go, you’re all set,” the girl behind the counter said cheerfully, reaching across to hand me the bag of food with one hand while sliding the coffees forward with the other.

“Thank you,” I muttered, snatching the bag with more force than necessary. My nerves frayed, my hands trembling.

I turned toward the door, half-ready to leave the damn food and run back, when the bell above it jingled. Someone held it open for me from the other side.

A man stood by the door.

Tall, clean-cut, dressed in an expensive coat, but the cologne didn’t match. He stepped forward to hold the door open for me. I recognized him immediately.

The man from the hospital.

“Let me get that for you,” he said, his voice smooth, polite… too calm.

I hesitated but didn’t move. There was no immediate alarm. No gut punch warning me to run. Just the soft hum of nerves and a stranger with kind eyes.

“Hey… it’s you,” he said after a beat, like we were old acquaintances running into each other by accident.

And for a second, my chest loosened.

Recognition eased the tension that had been squeezing my spine since I hung up the phone. It felt good to breathe again, even if just for a moment.

“Hey!” I said, smiling back because I meant it. “I thought about you the other day. I never saw you again at the hospital. How’s your wife?”

“She’s at home resting,” he replied easily, the corner of his mouth lifting like the news was good.

“That sounds promising.”

“It is. But now that she’s home…” He looked past me, scanning the sidewalk. “People get in the way. You know what I mean.”

It was a strange comment, sure. But I brushed it off. Maybe he was talking about family. Visitors. Overprotective in-laws. I didn’t have the emotional energy to dig deeper.

Then his eyes flicked back to mine. “You out here by yourself?”

I paused. Something in his tone was different now—too casual.

“I—no. My boyfriend’s expecting me back. Just grabbed us some breakfast.” I lifted the bag and coffees in my hands, forcing a light laugh. “Didn’t think I’d be gone long.”

“Sure,” he said, like he didn’t believe a word of it. And he shouldn’t. It was a lie.

I nodded, offering a polite smile. “Well, I hope you have a great day.” I turned to walk past him, already thinking of how fast I could get back to the Penthouse.

But then he spoke.

And everything in me went still.

“You didn’t tell me how Savannah was doing, Ms. Pierman .”

Time didn’t just slow—it fractured.

Right before my eyes, the edges of reality began to blur. Pieces of the moment slipped sideways, like they were being peeled away from the rest of the world.

I heard everything and nothing all at once.

Car horns blared. A dog barked. Sirens wailed somewhere far off—but none of it felt real. The air turned thick, like it couldn’t reach my lungs fast enough. The world kept moving.

But the axis?

It was shattered.

I wasn’t standing outside a café anymore. I was standing in a different dimension. One where the rules had changed, and nothing was safe.

Because I never told him my last name, but he knew.

He knew me .

People think keeping secrets is for someone else's protection. That withholding the truth somehow shields you from fear, from pain, from having to carry the weight of knowing.

But that’s a lie.

Secrets aren’t about protection.

They’re about control .

Because when someone decides what you can and can’t handle—what you do or don’t deserve to know—they're not protecting you. They're managing you.

And right now, I was living the consequences of their silence.

At least Savannah knew who was coming for her. She’d sat across the dinner table. Slept beside him. Memorized every inch of her predator’s face over the years. She had time to brace for the war that found her. She’d been prepared.

But me?

They’d told me everything I needed to know, without saying anything at all.

They left me blind.

I could’ve helped. I could’ve connected the dots. I could’ve told them everything I knew… if they’d just let me in. If they hadn’t made the decision for me .

But they did. He did.

How would I ever trust him again?

Ben didn’t want to protect me—he wanted to control the outcome.

He chose silence, not safety.

And now I was the one paying for it.

He never showed me a picture. Never gave me a description. Not a hair color. Not a height. Not a voice. Not a face. Only a name.

Aleksei Koslov.

And because of that. Because he chose to keep me in the dark…

He handed me to him on a silver fucking platter.

The paper bag slipped from my fingers. The coffees tilted, foam seeping through the lids before they hit the sidewalk.

For a split second, I stood frozen.

I didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink. Didn’t move.

My brain screamed at me to run. My body didn’t listen. It lagged behind, caught in the space between logic and panic.

This wasn’t happening.

Not in broad daylight. Not on a busy street.

Not to me .

I took a shaky step backward. Then another.

“I do intend to have a great day, Ms. Pierman.” He said behind me, casual as ever, throwing the words I’d said to him moments ago back at me.

Then I saw it. My life flash before my eyes.

A second man, one I hadn’t even noticed, stood beside the sleek black SUV.

I took a step back. Then another. I turned to run, but it was already too late.

He moved fast. Too fast.

His arms locked around my waist like steel, lifting me off the ground and dragging me back.

I tried to scream, but it caught in my throat.

I kicked. Fought. Like a child throwing a tantrum in the arms of someone three times their size.

Then came the cloth.

Pressed hard over my mouth.

Soaked. Sharp. Smothering.

I held my breath, desperate to stop the fumes from settling in. But it was useless.

The world was already tilting.

The sky spun sideways.

And then—

Nothing.

I woke to darkness.

Not the natural kind that settled with dusk or dim lighting, but the kind that felt deliberate.

My mouth was dry, like cotton had been packed inside it. My head throbbed, dull and heavy behind my eyes, and my limbs ached with the weighted sluggishness of something unnatural.

I’d been drugged. I knew it instinctively. The way my skin tingled, how the world tilted slightly every time I blinked. My stomach churned with every breath.

The room was cold. Not freezing, but industrial. Uncomfortable in a way that felt intentional. I shifted, slowly, trying to sit up, but my arms barely responded. My body felt like it belonged to someone else.

The floor and walls were concrete. Thick, gray, and unwelcoming. There were no windows. Just the flickering of a cheap floor lamp in the corner, casting long shadows.

And the smell…

It hit me slow at first, then all at once. Dust, old wood, and something sharp underneath it all. Bleach. Not overwhelming, but recent.

Whatever this place was used for, they’d cleaned it. Bleached it. Covered the scent of whatever came before me. This wasn’t like Bruce’s chaos. This was Aleksei’s version of control.

Sterile. Clinical.

Prepared.

I wasn’t in a hospital. I wasn’t in someone’s home. I was in a holding space.

A place meant to contain someone, not comfort them.

The realization settled hard in my chest, knocking loose the last of the fog in my head. I forced myself to sit up fully, my movements clumsy but focused now.

There were no restraints. Not yet. But that didn’t mean I was free. He didn’t bring me here to kill me, at least not immediately. That meant he wanted something.

From me. From Jaxson. From Savannah.

God, Savannah.

If he got to her—if this was some sick extension of whatever the hell Bruce started—

No. I couldn’t go there. Not yet.

I pressed a hand to the floor, grounding myself. I wasn’t screaming. I wasn’t begging. I was still breathing, and that meant I had time. Not much, but enough. Enough to figure out why I was here… and maybe—just maybe—how to survive it.

That’s when a man’s voice broke the silence. Smooth. Unbothered.