“Elias…”
Genevieve threw herself into Elias's arms, wrapping her own around his neck. Her voice trembled, as if she were only now recovering from the intense fear. “Elias, I’m so glad you came! If it weren’t for you, Victoria would have killed me.”
Elias’s lips were a thin, straight line. He used his uninjured left hand to pull her arms away.
Genevieve's tears streamed down her face. Before Elias could ask what had happened, she launched into her own version of the story.
“I was just lying in my room when Victoria burst in and slapped me several times. She started demanding to know what I said to her father. I had no idea what she was talking about, so I told her I hadn't seen Mr. Sanger. I don’t know what I said that set her off, but she suddenly grabbed my throat and shoved me against the wall.”
“I could barely breathe. She wouldn't listen to anything I said, so I had to knock over the IV stand to make her let go. I tried to run and call for help, but I only got two steps before Victoria grabbed a knife from somewhere and…”
Genevieve’s voice broke with a sob. She clutched her chest, her expression one of lingering terror. “...and she stabbed at me.”
“Elias, I almost died. I was so scared. I was afraid I’d never see you again.”
Elias was silent, his dark, bottomless eyes fixed on Victoria, who stood a short distance away. His throat moved.
In truth, he hadn't really been listening to Genevieve's tearful account. In his mind, the image of Victoria lunging at Genevieve with the knife was playing on a loop.
He could still clearly recall the feeling of his heart stopping in that instant.
No one could know how many possibilities and solutions had flashed through his mind in those few seconds.
He had thought, if he couldn't stop her, and Victoria stabbed Genevieve—if Genevieve survived, he would commit perjury or hire someone to take the fall, doing whatever it took to protect her.
If Genevieve died…
He would clean up the scene, have Hawk immediately take Victoria out of the country, liquidate all his assets and transfer them to her, and then turn himself in to take the blame for the murder.
Thank God he had stopped her.
He stood up and walked toward her.
He wanted to hold her.
But as he approached, Victoria instinctively took two steps back, as if deliberately putting distance between them.

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