Chapter 4 - Untouchable Under His Roof
The heavy glass doors of the penthouse private elevator hissed open.
A dozen federal agents in tactical gear poured into the foyer, weapons lowered but ready. At the front stood Special Agent Richard Vance—no relation to Elias, but a man who had spent five years trying to put Elias behind bars.
“Elias Vance!” Agent Richard announced, stepping into the massive living room. “We have an emergency warrant for the recovery of Ava Miller and two infant children!”
Elias didn't jump. He was sitting casually on the Italian leather sofa, a glass of scotch in his hand, looking entirely bored.
Beside him sat me.
I wore an elegant cream-colored silk gown provided by Elias’s staff. My hair was neatly styled, hiding the pale exhaustion of my face, though my heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. In my lap, I held legal documents stamped with an official city seal.
“Agent Richard,” Elias said coolly, taking a slow sip of his drink. “You’re breaking marble tiles with those boots. I suggest you tell your men to stand down before I bill the Justice Department for property damage.”
“Don't play games, Elias,” Richard snapped, stepping forward. “We received a verified lead that you abducted a woman in critical medical condition from Brooklyn three nights ago.”
Evelyn Reed stepped forward from the shadows, stepping cleanly between the agents and the sofa.
“Agent Richard, I suggest you review these before you take another step,” Evelyn said, handing him a thick blue binder.
Richard snatched the binder, frowning as he flipped through the pages. His eyes widened slightly as he read.
“What is this?”
“That is the certified marriage certificate of Elias and Ava Vance, filed electronically with the state supreme court one hour ago,” Evelyn stated smoothly. “Along with an official statement from Dr. Evans confirming that Mrs. Vance was brought to this private residence by her husband for emergency, high-level medical care following a severe domestic assault by her former spouse, Marcus Miller.”
Richard’s head snapped toward me. His eyes narrowed. “Mrs. Miller... is this true? Are you here of your own free will? Is this man holding you?”
I looked at the agent, then felt Elias’s firm, warm hand cover mine on the sofa. His touch gave me an anchor I had never possessed in my entire life. I sat up straight, lifting my chin.
“My name is Ava Vance,” I said, my voice ringing clear and strong through the vast room. “My former husband beat me, called my newborn daughters a curse, and left us to die in the snow. Elias saved our lives. He brought us here, hired private medical care, and gave my children a home. I am here because I choose to be here.”
Richard stared at me, visibly shocked. The federal raid had completely collapsed within thirty seconds.
“Your former husband, Marcus Miller, is currently wanted for attempted murder and child abandonment,” Richard muttered, adjusting his jacket as he realized he had been played by Moretti’s fake tip. “If you know where he is—”
“We don't,” Elias lied smoothly, standing up from the sofa. He loomed over the FBI agent, his presence instantly dominating the room. “But when you find him, Agent Richard, make sure you put him in a very secure cell. Because if he ever steps foot on the streets of New York again... my legal team will ensure he spends the rest of his life in maximum security.”
Richard held Elias’s gaze for a long, tense moment before realizing he had lost this round. He turned to his team.
“Fall back,” Richard ordered bitterly. “We’re done here.”
As the agents filed out of the penthouse, I collapsed back onto the cushions, letting out a long sigh of relief.
Elias turned to me, a rare, genuine smile touching his lips. “You played your part exceptionally well, Mrs. Vance.”
“It wasn't a play, Elias,” I said softly, looking up into his dark, intense eyes. “It was the truth.”
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Before he could respond, Antonio entered the room rapidly, holding a secured tablet.
“Boss. Moretti just sent a live feed,” Antonio whispered, his face grim. “He knows the FBI failed. He’s moving to Plan B.”
