The chains binding Ella to the wall clanked as she ran her hands through her brown barely curls. Her brown eyes which were formerly vibrant were dull and lost their touch with life. Dark circles ruled under her eyes and her cheekbones sunken. It had been over a week and she had refused to eat anything she was given for fear it may be poisoned.

With each day that flew by, she began to wonder if she'll ever be found. She pitied all her loved ones. What were they going to do if she died in here? She couldn't give up now. Even if Robert didn't come to save her, she had to hatch an escape plan.

She had read somewhere that a human could only survive two weeks without food and water. Her weak bones and rumbling stomach were signs that she was running out of time.

She curled herself and lay on the cold concrete floor. A tiny ray of sunlight hit the metallic door, forming a small golden halo in the middle of the door. Ella watched the halo, everything around her fading into nothingness.

The din of voices came from outside the door and she sat up, ready for whatever they had planned for her. Her dry throat tightened as the door creaked open, and a tall dark man walked in. He was Victor Hastings; Gerrard claimed he was her father's replacement. He held a man whose head was covered by a brown bag. The man's hand was in chains and as they stepped into the room, she realised who owned that body.

"Robert," she said, standing up and holding the wall for support. Her legs were vibrating which made it difficult to find a good stance.

"Eughya," Robert muffled under the bag. What was he doing here? She had hoped he was going to save her. But now they were both in the same jail cell, those hopes had vanished. Victor locked Robert to the wall, the chains clinking as they fell to the floor. Ella crawled over to him. She was too weak to walk.

Victor took off the bag swallowing Robert's head, his blonde hair standing like tendrils of a golden flame. His blue eyes widened when he saw Ella next to him. He didn't give her time to breathe before he hugged her tightly. She buried her head into his shoulder, his familiar rose scent lulling her nerves.

"Ella," he pulled out of the hug and inspected her face. "Did Gerrard touch you? I swear if he did I'll—"

"I'm fine. He didn't do anything to me," Ella said, holding his hard face.

His blue eyes were full of sympathy as he touched every inch of her round face. "My goodness, have you eaten anything?"

"She refused to eat anything. Don't blame us," Victor said before he left, shutting them both in.

Ella sighed and scooted closer to Robert. "It's true. Who knows what Gerrard would've put in the food."

Ella had a lot to talk to Robert about. But she had to start from somewhere. The fact that he was in here meant that he was unable to save her. And that proved Gerrard to be right. He was able to lure Robert with her.

She didn't want him to suffer the same fate she had because he loved her. It was her fault she was in here, in the first place.

"Robert I'm sorry for Howard's death. I know you blame me for what happened. I didn't know—"

"Shh," he placed a finger over her lips. "Don't say that. I don't blame you. Besides Howard wouldn't want us to be blaming ourselves for his death. We have to stop Gerrard before he causes more problems."

"How did he get you?"

"Let's just say I fell into another trap of his. He released the Captain but took me. Apparently, I was the one he was looking for."

And Ella knew why. He wanted to tell them some sort of bloody tale. And Robert was right; they weren't meant to be blaming themselves for the death of Howard. She was glad Robert wasn't angry at her. She had spent every day thinking of how she would be able to speak with him again. That was one of the reasons she loved him. He always knew how to make her feel better. Though she was still hungry. So she would say she felt slightly better.

"We've buried Howard. His funeral was some days ago."

Ella's eyes warmed with tears. She had always been arguing with Howard all the time. If only she knew this was going to happen, she would've gone back in time to build a better relationship with him.

She didn't even get the chance to tell him goodbye one last time before he left this world. There was no way she would let Gerrard get away with all these. Howard would want them to put an end to everything. Though she had no idea how. Both she and Robert were in a cell.

"Do you have a plan for us to get out of here?" She asked.

"Unfortunately, I don't." Robert sighed, combing his hands through his hair. "But I would be able to come up with something."

She rested her head on his lap and looked up at his beautiful features. "How are my fathers, Juliet and my mother?"

"They're worried. All of us are."

"Do you still love me?"

She spotted the change in demeanour on his face. Was something wrong with what she asked? Maybe she came off too strong. Christ, what was wrong with her? A man just got captured and all she could think of was if he loved her.

She just need clarification after all that had transpired. She needed to know if he still felt the same way even though he claimed he wasn't blaming her for his friend's death.

"There's something you need to know, Ella."

She gulped.

That couldn't be good.

*****

When Robert told Ella there was no one to blame for Howard's death, he lied. He still blamed himself. And he believed the only way he could ever come close to forgiving himself was dealing with Gerrard once and for all.

Ella on the other hand went berserk when Robert told her of the late-night sins he committed while she was away. Initially, he didn't want to tell her for fear that it would ruin their relationship. But after reading Pride and Prejudice, he had learnt that honesty was a good way to lay a strong foundation for any relationship.

And now he wished he could take back his words. Since last night, Ella hadn't spoken a word to him. She didn't even spare a glance his way.

"You two haven't eaten," Gerrard said, eating from the plate of toast before him. They were all in a dining room with a wooden table, the only source of light coming from a window that backed Gerrard. Standing next to him was Victor Hastings, his arms crossed over the other as he watched Robert and Ella with great intensity. Robert discovered his name yesterday when Gerrard introduced Victor Hastings to him before he got bagged and brought here.

"Ella, you should eat," Robert said. He didn't like the way she looked. Her formerly plump cheeks were now sunken and he could swear he noticed a significant decrease in the size of her derriere.

Ella scoffed. "You don't get to tell me what to do."

"Trouble in paradise, aye?" Gerrard asked, smirking.

"It's none of your business," Robert said. All he wanted at this moment was to get out of these cuffs and beat the brains out of Gerrard. His best friend was dead because he shot him. Robert wondered how Gerrard could be so vile and evil.

Gerrard's green eyes beamed with evil intentions. "Temper, temper. We've not even gotten to the reason I asked you out for this lovely breakfast."

What could it be? Robert surveyed the small dining room. The walls were made of concrete and there were cracks in some areas. Outside, the sky was blanketed by grey smoke. They were still in Birmingham.

"I have an interesting story for the both of you," Gerrard said, pointing his fork to and fro between Robert and Ella.

This bastard had killed his friend and he had the balls to talk about a tale. The only tale Robert wanted to hear was the one where Gerrard died.

"We don't want to hear it," Robert replied.

Ella chuckled. "Speak for yourself."

Robert's heart ached. Ella was hurt deeply, wasn't she? He shouldn't have done what he did. But it was the only way he knew how to grieve. And now Ella's heart was bleeding because of his stupid choices. He didn't know if things could get back to the way they were. All he could do now was find a way to escape here with her.

"Oh, dear," Gerrard smiled deviously, his fingers running through his dark locks. "What did you do to her, Robert?"

Robert wanted to walk over to him and pummel his smug face. Gerrard didn't even show any sign of remorse for what he did to Howard. Why would he? The man was a cold hearts monster.

Robert couldn't whack Gerrard as he wished because both his hands and legs were in cuffs. The same was done to Ella. Even if he managed to get to Gerrard, Victor Hastings wouldn't waste any time beating him to a pulp. And he wouldn't be able to defend himself because he was in cuffs.

"I'm going to be the end of you, Gerrard," Robert declared, shaking in his bonds in a desperate attempt to get out of it.

Gerrard burst into a fit of laughter. "Look at him, shaking like a caged chicken."

"Get me out of these and we'll see who the real chicken is."

"Oh, please," Gerrard waved him off like he was insignificant. "Now shut up and listen to this tale."

"I don't want to listen to your stupid tale."

"Oh, you will have to. You were the genesis of your disaster. It's only fair you know how it began."

****