Chapter 5 – The First Rescue

The morning after Elaine had witnessed the execution, the mansion felt colder, heavier. She hadn’t slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the man’s face, the gun, the lifeless slump of his body. And behind it all—Drake’s steady gray eyes, unflinching as the world bled around him.

She wanted to run. To escape. But every locked door reminded her she wasn’t free.

By afternoon, she’d had enough of the suffocating silence. She told herself she needed air, just a short walk outside the mansion gates. The guards at the front hesitated, but when she snapped, “I’m his wife, not his prisoner,” they exchanged uneasy glances and stepped aside.

The city streets beyond the mansion were loud and alive, a strange contrast to the cold luxury she’d left behind. Elaine wrapped her coat tighter around her, trying to steady her breathing. For a few minutes, she almost felt normal again—just another woman walking through a crowded street.

Until the van pulled up beside her.

The sliding door yanked open. A man’s hand shot out, gripping her arm with brutal force. Before she could scream, she was shoved inside. The van sped off, tires screeching against the asphalt.

Elaine thrashed, her fists pounding against her captors, but there were three of them—masked, armed, laughing at her fury. One pressed a gun to her temple.

“Quiet, princess,” he sneered. “Your husband pissed off the wrong people.”

Her stomach dropped. This wasn’t random. This was a message. She was the message.

The van screeched to a halt in an abandoned warehouse district. They dragged her out, her heels scraping against the cracked pavement. Inside, the air reeked of oil and rust. Chains dangled from the rafters. The men shoved her into a chair, binding her wrists.

Fear clawed at her chest, but beneath it was a sharp edge of anger. She spat at the man in front of her. “Do you have any idea what he’ll do to you when he finds me?”

The man grinned, showing yellowed teeth. “That’s the point, sweetheart. Let’s see how the great Drake Alfie reacts when his pretty little wife is on the line.”

Elaine’s pulse thundered. She hated Drake for dragging her into this world, but in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to see his shadow fill the doorway.

And he did.

Minutes later, the sound of engines roared outside. Boots hit concrete. Then the warehouse doors burst open.

Drake entered like a storm. Dressed in black, flanked by his men, his presence swallowed the room. His gun was steady in his hand, his eyes colder than ice.

The kidnappers froze, panic flashing across their faces.

“Let her go,” Drake said, his voice quiet but lethal.

One of the men pressed his gun harder against Elaine’s temple. “Back off, Alfie, or she dies.”

Elaine gasped, her body trembling. But Drake didn’t flinch. He stepped forward slowly, his eyes locked on the man holding her.

“You think I care about threats?” His tone was low, razor-sharp. “Pull that trigger, and you won’t live long enough to regret it.”

The man’s hands shook. For a moment, Elaine thought he might actually do it. But in the next heartbeat, a shot cracked through the air. The gunman jerked, blood blooming across his chest.

Elaine screamed, her body jerking against the ropes.

Drake lowered his smoking gun, his expression unchanging. The other two kidnappers tried to bolt, but his men cut them down before they reached the door.

The warehouse fell silent, broken only by Elaine’s ragged breathing.

Drake strode forward, his gaze finally softening as it landed on her. He crouched in front of her, pulling a knife from his pocket. The blade flashed as he sliced through her bindings.

Elaine’s wrists burned as the ropes fell away. She should have recoiled from him, but instead, the moment his hand touched her arm, she felt herself collapse into him.

He caught her instantly, steady and unyielding. For the first time since their forced marriage, she felt something other than fear when she looked at him. Protection. Safety.

“You’re safe now,” he murmured, his voice low against her hair.

Tears stung her eyes. She hated him. She needed him. She didn’t understand him. But one thing was certain—Drake Alfie was no ordinary man. He was fire and shadow, danger and salvation.

And whether she liked it or not, he had just proven that being his wife meant living in a world where blood was currency and love was the only shield that might save her.

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