2~Crossroads

Elara’s hands were still trembling as the clinic doors slammed shut. The gunshot’s echo lingered in her ears, the smell of iron and smoke thick in the air. She could still see the man’s body on the floor, the lifeless eyes staring at nothing until he barked an order and his men dragged it away.

But it wasn’t the body that rattled her most—it was her own voice. “Don’t leave him here. Take him with you.”

She didn’t know where the authority came from, but he had paused, those obsidian eyes scanning her face before giving a small nod of approval. And just like that, his men obeyed.

Now, alone again, the silence pressed on her chest.

“Elara…” she whispered to herself, forcing her legs to move. She locked the clinic door with trembling fingers and turned—only to nearly scream.

The night guard was sprawled on the floor, motionless. Her heart dropped. She knelt beside him, fingers fumbling for a pulse. “God, no, no, no—”

The man snorted suddenly and rolled over. “…five more minutes.”

Elara froze. “What?”

His eyes half-cracked open, sleepy and clueless. “Why are you screaming? What’s wrong?”

Her jaw nearly hit the floor. “What’s wrong? There were men with guns in here! Someone got shot—”

The guard yawned and scratched his head. “Ah. Must’ve missed that.”

She stared at him, speechless. He’d been asleep through the entire thing. Asleep. She smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand, more out of disbelief than anger. “You’re useless.”

He only chuckled drowsily, rolling back onto his side. “Told them not to put me on night shifts…”

Elara groaned, pressing her palms against her face. What am I even doing here? She’d been bullied into covering this shift. The nurses who were supposed to be here with her had slipped out hours ago, laughing at her gullibility. And here she was—alone, shaken, and now the keeper of a secret that could get her killed.

When the morning shift arrived, her coworkers didn’t need long to notice. Her face was pale, eyes ringed with exhaustion. She looked nothing like the woman who had walked into this clinic two weeks ago, clutching her transfer papers with a nervous smile.

“Elara, you’re scaring the patients,” one nurse sneered, though there was a flicker of unease in her tone. “Go home. Rest. You look… horrible.”

They didn’t know how right they were.

The head nurse gave her a pointed look. “Take the day off.”

Elara didn’t argue. Her body was drained, her mind too tangled to fight. She grabbed her bag and left, heart still pounding from the memories of dark eyes, gunfire, and the weight of secrets no one should ever carry.

*****************************************************

ACROSS THE CITY

His car purred low as it rolled into the DeLuca Estate, a fortress hidden behind acres of pine woods and private roads that only one family had the right to travel. The gates swung open at the recognition of his license plate, and the gravel crunched beneath the tires as the blacked-out SUV climbed toward the manor. It wasn’t just a house—it was a monument, built of pale stone, tall columns, and high-arched windows glowing faintly against the dusk.

Inside, the atmosphere was heavy. He was silent, heading straight upstairs to his wing. His shirt was ruined, dirtied from the chaos earlier, and he couldn’t meet his father like this. In the privacy of his suite, he stripped it off and replaced it with a clean black one, buttoning it slowly, almost ritualistically. To him, it was nothing but routine. To Adrian,his older brother—it was deception.

Because Adrian was waiting.

Leaning against the banister, arms crossed, he eyed his older brother with razor-sharp suspicion. He had already informed their father that Raphael had come home bloodied. His men swore they saw it on him. But when he came down the staircase, neat and composed, there was nothing—no stain, no wound, not even a scratch.

Adrian’s jaw clenched.

“You cleaned up quick.” His tone dripped with venom.

He didn’t bother looking at him. “You must be mistaken.”

“Mistaken?” Adrian stepped forward, voice raising. “My boys don’t make mistakes. They saw the blood.”

The tension was thick enough to strangle. Their father, Matteo DeLuca, appeared in the hall just then, his cold eyes flicking from one son to the other. Adrian’s temper only worsened under his father’s silent scrutiny, but he, as always, remained unreadable.

Still, Adrian burned. If he had nothing to hide, why was everything always so perfectly… concealed?

But Adrian’s anger wasn’t done. Later, when his father dismissed them, Adrian pulled his closest men aside. His words were low, but sharp enough to cut.

“If he walks away clean, then someone else isn’t. The clinic worker. Find her.”

His men nodded, quick and eager.

Adrian’s eyes glinted in the low light.

And just like that, Elara’s fragile reprieve became a ticking clock.

The night air outside the DeLuca Estate was cool, but his thoughts were anything but. His father’s silence had been damning, his brother’s suspicion louder than words. He hated Adrian’s games—always circling, always trying to prove he wasn’t as flawless as he seemed.

So he left the estate. Alone.

He drove without a destination, his hand resting loosely on the wheel, eyes sharp on the empty road ahead. He told himself it was to clear his head, to breathe away the tension. But he knew better—there was a gnawing unease in his chest, something pulling him out of the safety of the family’s fortress.

***************************************************

She was walking along the sidewalk, cardigan pulled tight, her hair tied back carelessly. Her steps were slow, tired, like someone who had been on their feet all night.

Raphael’s SUV rolled past the street corner. He didn’t stop. He didn’t even turn his head. To him, it was nothing more than another body moving through the city.

And Elara, too lost in her own exhaustion, didn’t notice the black vehicle glide by.

Just a coincidence. Nothing more.

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