Helga's POV

The thunderous slam of the front door startled me as I was finishing my nightly rounds. A bone-chilling scream immediately followed, echoing through the manor's halls. My heart pounded as I rushed toward the foyer, driven by a sense of dread.

The sight that greeted me stopped me in my tracks. Miss Tahlia lay crumpled on the marble floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Her elegant evening gown was torn, diamonds from a shattered necklace scattered around her. Streaks of mascara ran down her ashen face as she clawed at the tiles, emitting guttural wails of anguish.

I had worked in this household for over two decades and had seen the young miss distraught before, but never, never like this—so completely and devastatingly undone. Her usual regal poise was shattered, replaced by a haunting hollowness in her eyes that chilled me to the bone.

"Miss Tahlia?" I whispered, cautiously approaching. She didn't seem to register my presence, trapped in her torment.

Kneeling beside her, I gently tried to gather her into my arms. "Shh, my dewdrop, you're home now, safe with old Helga."

She resisted at first, violently flinching away from my touch. But soon her convulsive sobs gave way to whimpers as she collapsed against me, limp and fever-hot.

"That's it, let it all out," I murmured, stroking her sweat-dampened hair. "Helga is here."

"Helga, w-why does father... hates me...this much?" she gasped between ragged breaths. "I can't... I can't be like him." Her whole body shook uncontrollaby with each word.

Her words cut deep, each one a testament to the wounds inflicted not just by tonight's events but by a lifetime of torment. The pain of living under her father's tyrannical rule, the constant struggle to assert her own identity against the monstrous shadow he cast, was all laid bare in her sobs.

I held her tighter, my own tears falling into her hair. "You're nothing like him, Miss Tahlia. You are good, selfless, and strong. You're loved, more than you'll ever know. And we'll get through this, together."

For what felt like an eternity, I rocked her, whispering soothing words and humming lullabies.

"Please tell Allistair... I'm not like my dad... I-I'm not a monster." She cluctch tightly to me as if her life depended on it."I-I need Ally."

My heart broke at the naked desperation in her tremulous voice. Miss Tahlia idolized that fine young man, my poor love-addled girl. Whatever fresh trauma she'd endured, she craved his steadying presence with every fiber of her being.

"Shhh, he'll be here soon, I promise," I soothed, rocking her gently. "But first, let's get you into something more comfortable, hmm?"

She offered no resistance as I scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom, her slender frame weighing next to nothing in my arms. An unnatural heat radiated from her body. I carefully peeled off her ruined gown and slipped a soft cotton nightdress over her head before depositing her on the sumptuous bed.

No sooner had I tucked her in than she started thrashing, eyes wild and unseeing.

"No! Daddy, please...I'm your daughter!" she cried out in a strangled voice, back arching off the mattress.

My blood ran cold at the dreadful implications of her delirious plea. That wretched, evil man - God only knew the horrors he'd inflicted on this poor child over the years...

I hurried to her side, clasping her feverish hands in mine. "Shhh, dewdrop, you're safe now. He can't hurt you anymore."

Tahlia whimpered plaintively, clutching my hands in a vice grip. "D-don't leave, Ally... please save me too...not just her." She seemed trapped in a nightmare, fighting off invisible demons.

"I'm not him, dewdrop," I soothed, blinking back my own tears. "Just calm, Auntie Helga is keeping watch over you. You're my bright star, remember?"

As the fever peaked in the early hours, she tossed and turned, face contorted in anguish.

"Tessa and the workers, need me... I can't do it alone! Ally please stay" Tahlia's raw, heartbroken cry cut straight through me. I could only watch helplessly as she shuddered and writhed. "Out of my head, Hahn! Get out now!"

No childhood lullabies could soothe this exquisite torment. She cried out for Allistair in increasingly pained, desperate tones - a drowning woman pleading for her only lifeline.

"Dad hates me. Ally, do you hate...me too? Please don't leave me."

Dawn was just peeking through the curtains when her whispers finally fell silent, the fever seemingly broken. As soon as the household began to stir, I slipped out and placed the call Mr. Lockwood would undoubtedly demand of me.

His voice was taut with barely contained panic. "Helga? What's happened?"

Keeping my tone modulated, I relayed the harrowing night's events as dispassionately as I could. "She was a total wreck last night, utterly devastated as if her very spirit had been flayed open. A convulsive sobbing fit, delirious with high fever, crying your name and begging you not to abandon her..."

There was a sharp indrawn breath. "Was she attacked? Assaulted? Did someone hurt her?"

"No visible injuries, sir." I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat. "Miss Tahlia mentioned no names of anyone who may have harmed her. She only called out for you in her delirium."

His fear for her safety was palpable across the phone line. "That bastard Lucian Drago," he snarled, voice tight with rage. "If he has anything to do with this, I swear I'll make him pay."

"Now, now," I soothed. "The young miss never uttered Mr. Drago's name, not once. Whatever trauma she's endured, he didn't seem to be involved from what I could gather, her father on the other hand..."

There was a weighted pause, and I could practically envision Mr. Allistair's jaw clenching as he wrestled with his protective fury. Finally, he let out a long, shuddering breath.

"You're certain, Helga? Because if that snake had anything to do with hurting her..."

"I'm quite sure, dear boy," I cut him off gently. "Miss Tahlia only plead for you during the worst bouts. She needs you now more than ever."

"I'm on my way," he stated firmly, the undercurrent of simmering menace subsiding slightly. "Just...just keep her safe until I get there. Please."

"You have my word," I vowed solemnly. "I won't let her out of my sight."

With that, the line disconnected, leaving me to pray that Mr. Allistair's steadfast presence would help guide Miss Tahlia back from the brink she currently teetered upon.

Whatever demons had sunk their claws into her this night, she would need all the shelter her loved ones could provide to rekindle her inner light.

Allistair's POV

The tires of my Porsche squealed as I tore up the curved drive leading to the Steelman manor. Helga's panicked words replayed on a dreadful loop in my mind - Tahlia sobbing uncontrollably, utterly undone, begging for me through her delirium. Something cataclysmic had shattered the vibrant, passionate woman I loved more than life itself.

A pit of sheer terror yawned in my gut as I imagined the horrors that could have befallen her, reducing her to such a harrowing state. Was she physically attacked or assaulted in some way? The thought alone was enough to unleash the barely restrained fury coiling within me. If Drago had dared lay a hand on her, I would obliterate him without a shred of mercy.

I barely registered crossing the marble foyer, Helga's gentle voice guiding me up the grand staircase and down the corridor to Tahlia's rooms. The sight that met me there very nearly brought me to my knees.

My strong, brilliant love lay frighteningly still amidst the tangled bedsheets, her porcelain features ashen and haggard. The warm, lively sparkle I so adored was extinguished behind those lifeless gray eyes. In that moment, she looked utterly...broken, merely a hollow shell remaining where her vibrant spirit once resided.

"Oh Tally..." I exhaled roughly, crossing the distance in three long strides.

My chest felt as though it would splinter apart at the sight.

Helga murmured reassurances before slipping out, allowing us privacy. Sinking onto the mattress, I gathered Tahlia's fragile form into my embrace. She felt feather-light, as if some cruel force had leeched away her very essence. This was not the woman whose inner fire drew all to bask in her radiant light. Seeing that light so brutally snuffed out lacerated my heart.

"I'm here, my love," I whispered brokenly into her hair. "You're safe now, I've got you."

For hours I simply held her while she slept, her soft breaths the only sound in the stillness. My soul ached to soothe whatever unspeakable anguish had ravaged her so completely.