What They Took From Me
What They Took From Me
I couldn’t move.
For several seconds, I simply stood there with my back against the kitchen counter, staring at Damian as if looking at him long enough might somehow make his words disappear.
You were taken away from it.
The sentence kept repeating in my head.
Again.
And again.
“No.”
My voice sounded strangely small.
Damian didn’t move.
He stood several feet away from me, his expression unreadable, his dark eyes fixed on mine.
“No,” I repeated, louder this time. “That’s not what happened.”
“I know what you were told.”
“My parents told me I left because I wanted a normal life.”
“You did.”
I frowned.
“Then what’s the difference?”
“You wanted to leave,” he said quietly. “But you didn’t choose how.”
I shook my head.
“This doesn’t make any sense.”
“It will.”
“When?”
“When you remember.”
A bitter laugh escaped me.
“That’s convenient.”
His jaw tightened.
“I’m not asking you to trust me.”
“Good.”
“I’m asking you to listen.”
I looked away.
The photograph was still in my hand.
Me.
Damian.
The garden.
That smile.
I couldn’t understand how the girl in that photograph could possibly be me.
I had spent years believing I remembered my childhood.
I remembered my mother’s perfume.
My father’s office.
The long dining table.
The sound of my father’s voice whenever he was angry.
I remembered leaving.
I remembered packing a suitcase.
I remembered crying because I didn’t want to leave my friends.
But now I wasn’t sure if any of those memories were actually mine.
“What happened to me?” I whispered.
Damian’s expression changed.
Something softer appeared in his eyes.
“You were eight.”
“I know.”
“You saw something.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
I stared at him.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s the truth.”
“Then what do you know?”
He took a slow breath.
“I know that one morning you disappeared.”
My heart tightened.
“I know that your father told everyone you were going to Switzerland.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
“I don’t remember.”
“I know.”
He looked down for a moment.
“When you came back, you didn’t remember me.”
I swallowed.
“Maybe I just forgot.”
“You didn’t.”
His voice was certain.
“You forgot a lot more than me.”
The silence between us felt heavier.
“What exactly did I forget?”
Damian looked toward the photograph.
“That night.”
“What night?”
“The night everything changed.”
Before I could ask another question, a faint sound came from outside.
A car engine.
Damian immediately turned toward the window.
His entire posture changed.
The relaxed man I’d been arguing with disappeared.
In his place was someone colder.
More dangerous.
He walked toward the window and pulled the curtain aside just enough to look through.
“What?”
I followed him.
Across the street, underneath a streetlamp, sat a black sedan.
My stomach dropped.
“The same car,” I whispered.
Damian nodded.
“You saw it before?”
“On my way home.”
“Did it follow you?”
“I think so.”
He let the curtain fall.
“Then we’re out of time.”
“What does that mean?”
“You can’t stay here.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
His eyes met mine.
“Elena.”
“No.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly. You broke into my apartment, told me my entire childhood was a lie, and now you want me to follow you somewhere.”
“I didn’t break in.”
I stared at him.
He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small set of keys.
“I have a key.”
I blinked.
“Why do you have a key to my apartment?”
“I don’t.”
He held it up.
“These are my keys.”
I looked at them.
Then at him.
“Then how did you get inside?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
“You know someone who lives here.”
“I know someone who owns the building.”
My eyes widened.
“Of course you do.”
His mouth twitched slightly.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I crossed my arms.
“You really are exactly what I thought you’d become.”
“What’s that?”
“Dangerous.”
He stared at me.
“And yet you haven’t left.”
I hated that he was right.
I glanced toward the black car again.
“I can’t just disappear.”
“You can.”
“I have university.”
“We’ll deal with that.”
“My job.”
“We’ll deal with that too.”
“My life.”
His expression hardened.
“Your life is exactly what someone is trying to destroy.”
I went quiet.
He stepped closer.
“You need to come with me.”
I looked at him.
“Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn’t.”
That answer caught me off guard.
He continued.
“But you should trust the fact that someone came into your home while you were gone.”
I looked toward the envelope on the table.
He was right.
Someone had been inside.
Someone knew where I lived.
Someone had my childhood photograph.
And someone had warned me not to go back to my family.
“Fine,” I whispered.
Damian nodded.
“Take only what you need.”
“I can pack my own bag.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t.”
I walked into my bedroom.
For a moment, I simply stood there.
This was my life.
My books.
My clothes.
The little plant Luca had given me.
The mug I bought on my first week at university.
The framed photograph of Luca and me from our first year.
Everything looked normal.
And suddenly normal felt like the most fragile thing in the world.
I grabbed a small bag and started throwing clothes into it.
My hands were shaking.
I stopped when I saw the photograph on my desk.
Luca and me.
His arm around my shoulders.
That familiar smile.
I picked it up.
Then my phone buzzed.
I nearly dropped it.
Luca.
I answered immediately.
“Hey.”
Nothing.
“Luca?”
Only silence.
Then I heard breathing.
Heavy.
Uneven.
“Luca, can you hear me?”
A voice came through.
Not his.
A man’s voice.
“Elena.”
Every muscle in my body froze.
“Who is this?”
A low laugh.
“You should have stayed away from your family.”
“Where is Luca?”
Another laugh.
“You always were stubborn.”
My blood turned cold.
“Where is he?”
“Ask Damian.”
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Damian appeared in the doorway.
“What happened?”
I looked at him.
“Someone has Luca.”
His expression changed instantly.
“What did they say?”
I repeated the conversation.
When I finished, Damian was already reaching for his phone.
“Who was it?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did they say exactly?”
“They told me to ask you.”
His eyes darkened.
“They know you’re with me.”
I swallowed.
“Does that mean Luca was taken because of you?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
He didn’t answer.
“Damian.”
He looked at me.
“I don’t know yet.”
I wanted to believe him.
But something in his face told me there was more.
Much more.
We left through the back stairs.
The night air was freezing.
Damian walked slightly ahead of me, constantly scanning the street.
I noticed the way his hand remained close to his jacket.
“You have a gun.”
It wasn’t a question.
He looked at me.
“Yes.”
I should have been frightened.
Instead, I felt strangely safe.
That realization scared me more than the gun.
We reached his car.
He opened the passenger door.
I hesitated.
“You really expect me to get into a car with an armed stranger?”
His eyebrow lifted.
“Stranger?”
I looked at him.
“Don’t.”
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
“You used to sit beside me exactly like this.”
“When I was eight.”
“Still counts.”
I rolled my eyes and got inside.
He closed the door.
A few seconds later, he was behind the wheel.
The city moved past us in silence.
I stared out the window.
There were so many questions.
Too many.
Eventually, I couldn’t stand the silence anymore.
“Did you know my family would bring me back?”
Damian didn’t look at me.
“Yes.”
My stomach dropped.
“When?”
“Months ago.”
“You knew they were looking for me?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I couldn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t know who I could trust.”
I turned toward him.
“Not even me?”
He glanced at me.
“Especially not you.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“Because if someone wanted to get to me, you would have been the easiest way.”
The words hurt more than I expected.
“So that’s all I was?”
“No.”
His answer was immediate.
“You were never that.”
I looked away.
“What was I?”
He was silent.
Then he said,
“Someone I couldn’t afford to lose.”
My heart skipped.
I hated it.
I hated the way one sentence from him could make my entire body react.
The car entered an underground garage.
The gates closed behind us.
“Where are we?”
“My apartment.”
I looked around.
“This doesn’t look like an apartment building.”
“It isn’t.”
“Then what is it?”
“My home.”
He parked.
We stepped into the elevator.
The doors closed.
For the first time since leaving my apartment, there was complete silence.
Damian stood beside me.
Close.
Too close.
I could smell his cologne.
Something dark and warm.
I stared at the numbers above the doors.
“Why do I remember you?”
He looked at me.
“You don’t.”
“I remember pieces.”
His expression softened.
“That’s enough.”
“What happened between us?”
He didn’t answer.
“Damian.”
The elevator stopped.
The doors opened.
He stepped out.
Then turned back toward me.
“You were my best friend.”
I stared at him.
“And then?”
His eyes held mine.
“And then they took you away.”
I followed him.
We entered his apartment.
It was nothing like I expected.
It wasn’t cold.
It wasn’t filled with expensive decorations or things meant to impress people.
It was dark, elegant and strangely quiet.
Almost like him.
I placed my bag on the sofa.
Damian walked toward the kitchen.
“Do you want something to drink?”
“Water.”
He poured me a glass.
I took it from him.
Our fingers touched.
For one brief second, neither of us moved.
Then he pulled his hand away.
My heart beat faster.
I hated that too.
I drank the water and looked around.
“Do you live here alone?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Four years.”
“Why?”
He looked at me.
“I prefer quiet.”
“Funny.”
“What?”
“I remember you being loud.”
A real smile appeared on his face.
“You remember.”
“Only that.”
“It’s a start.”
Before I could respond, his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
Something changed in his expression.
He answered.
“Speak.”
I couldn’t hear the other person.
Damian listened.
His face became completely still.
“What?”
Silence.
“Are you sure?”
Another pause.
“How long?”
He ended the call.
I stared at him.
“What happened?”
He didn’t answer.
“Damian.”
He slowly put his phone away.
His eyes met mine.
“They found Luca.”
My heart stopped.
“What do you mean?”
“He was taken.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“When?”
“About an hour ago.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“No, I just spoke to him.”
Damian’s expression darkened.
“You didn’t speak to Luca.”
I stared at him.
“The call...”
“That wasn’t him.”
The glass slipped from my hand.
It shattered against the floor.
Damian stepped toward me.
I barely noticed.
Because suddenly I understood.
Someone hadn’t just taken Luca.
They had used him to reach me.
And if Damian was right...
then this had nothing to do with my family simply wanting me home.
Someone had been waiting for me to return.
And they had known exactly which person to take first.
