Chapter 4 – Blood in the Shadows

The first few days in the Alfie mansion passed like a blur. Elaine felt like a ghost drifting through a palace that wasn’t hers. Every corner of the house gleamed with luxury—crystal chandeliers, imported Italian marble, antique vases worth more than her father’s entire estate. But for all its beauty, the mansion was a cage. Guards watched her every move. Locked doors reminded her she was a guest only in name.

Her new husband remained as unreadable as stone. Drake rarely spoke at meals, though his gray eyes often lingered on her longer than she wanted. When he wasn’t at the mansion, he was gone for hours—sometimes days—without explanation. The staff never dared answer Elaine’s questions. They only bowed their heads and said, “The Boss is busy.”

One night, her questions were answered in the worst possible way.

Elaine had woken in the middle of the night, restless. She wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and wandered into the hallway. The house was quiet, the kind of silence that made the air heavy. She was about to turn back when voices drifted from the far end of the hall—low, tense, and sharp.

Curiosity tugged at her. Against her better judgment, she followed the sound. The voices led her to the double doors of Drake’s office. One door was cracked open. She pressed herself against the wall, peeking inside.

Drake sat behind a massive oak desk, his posture rigid, his hands clasped before him. Across from him stood two men in black suits—bodyguards, judging by their size and hard stares. Between them knelt another man, his wrists bound, his face bloodied.

Elaine’s breath caught.

Drake’s voice was calm, almost gentle. “You stole from me, Victor.”

The bound man trembled. “I—I didn’t mean to, Boss, I swear. It was a mistake—just a misunderstanding—”

Drake leaned forward slightly. “A mistake? You skimmed from the shipment. That’s not a mistake. That’s betrayal.”

Elaine’s stomach turned. Her hands gripped the wall to steady herself.

“Please,” the man begged, his voice cracking. “I’ve got kids. A family. I’ll pay it back, I swear it—”

Drake’s eyes hardened. “Your family will eat because of someone else’s loyalty. Not yours.”

He gave the slightest nod. One of the guards stepped forward, pulling a silenced pistol from his jacket.

Elaine’s heart froze. She wanted to scream, to stop it—but no sound left her lips.

The shot was soft, almost anticlimactic. The man crumpled to the floor, lifeless.

Elaine stumbled back, a strangled gasp escaping her. The sound echoed down the hallway.

Inside the office, Drake’s head snapped up. His eyes locked on the door instantly. “Elaine.”

Panic surged through her veins. She turned and ran, her bare feet slapping against the cold marble floor. But she didn’t get far. Within seconds, Drake was there, his hand closing around her wrist, spinning her to face him.

Her chest heaved, tears burning her eyes. “You—you killed him,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Drake’s expression was unreadable, his grip firm but not cruel. “You shouldn’t have seen that.”

Her stomach twisted. “Shouldn’t have seen it? You murdered a man like it was nothing!”

“He betrayed me,” Drake said evenly, though there was steel in his tone. “In my world, betrayal is death. That’s the law.”

Elaine shook her head violently, trying to pull free. “That’s not law—that’s madness! He was begging, Drake! He had a family!”

For the first time, Drake’s mask cracked. His jaw tightened, his eyes darkened, and his voice dropped into something more dangerous. “Do you think mercy keeps people alive in this business? Weakness gets you killed, Elaine. If I had let him live, his betrayal would spread like rot. And then it wouldn’t just be his family suffering—it would be you. Us.”

The way he said us made her chest ache. But she shoved the feeling down, glaring at him through her tears. “Don’t you dare include me in this. I don’t want any part of your blood-soaked empire.”

Drake’s hand loosened on her wrist. For a long moment, he simply studied her, his expression unreadable. Finally, he let her go.

“You already are part of it,” he said quietly. “Whether you want it or not.”

Elaine staggered back, her heart racing. She couldn’t bear the sight of him—his calm face, his steady voice, the blood on his hands. She turned and fled down the hallway, slamming the bedroom door behind her.

She pressed her back to it, gasping for breath.

Her husband wasn’t just a mafia boss. He was a killer. And now, she was trapped in a world where life and death were decided with the nod of his head.

For the first time since the wedding, true fear sank its claws into her heart.

And yet, buried beneath the terror, another thought haunted her:

Why did she feel that same fear twisting with something else—something disturbingly close to fascination?

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