4

The alley was silent except for the sound of dripping water somewhere in the distance. Darkness clung to the walls like damp paint, and the air smelled faintly of rubber and mildew.

Elena Silva stood with her arms folded, her sharp gaze sweeping across the cramped, broken room Josh had brought her to.

"So this," she said at last, her tone smooth but edged with curiosity, "is the place you meant when you spoke about peace of mind?"

Her eyes narrowed faintly, scanning the cracked walls, the shattered furniture piled in corners, and the thin strip of light flickering overhead.

Josh swallowed hard, scratching the back of his neck. He had faced guns and knives without blinking, but under her steady gaze he felt oddly nervous.

This place wasn't fit for her. Elena Silva was the crown jewel of her bloodline, raised in marble halls and silken gowns. Bringing her here was reckless. Foolish.

And yet, he wanted her to see it.

He wanted her to see his world, the one where rules weren't carved in gold and people weren't suffocated by titles.

Josh cleared his throat, crossing to a rusty rack propped against the wall. From it, he pulled a bundle of old clothes—an oversized jacket, black trousers, and a shirt that smelled faintly of smoke.

"Miss Elena," he said quietly, "put these on."

Her brows arched. "You want me to dress like a street boy?"

He didn't flinch. He only pointed to the narrow wall on the left, offering the faintest hint of privacy.

"You can change there."

For a moment, her lips curved, amusement flickering across her face. Without another word, she took the clothes and disappeared behind the wall.

Josh waited, arms crossed, his heart drumming harder than he cared to admit.

When she stepped out again, the sight almost startled him.

The jacket dwarfed her frame, the trousers loose against her long legs. Her hair, usually immaculate, was tied into a messy bun. Her presence—the untouchable heiress—had vanished. In her place stood someone unrecognizable.

Josh let out a chuckle he didn't mean to. "Not bad."

Reaching back into the rack, he pulled out a worn cap and placed it gently on her head, adjusting the brim to shadow her face.

"Now you're good to go."

For a moment, she simply looked at him, her eyes unreadable. Then she nodded once. "Lead the way."

⸻

The night wrapped around them as they stepped into the alley. Josh's stride was steady, hands buried in his jacket pockets. Elena kept her head lowered, her steps softer than usual.

But her eyes—bright, restless—betrayed her.

She drank in everything: graffiti curling like art across the bricks, stray cats darting between shadows, the faint glow of cigarette tips from men leaning against walls. For the first time in years, no one stared at her with reverence. No one whispered her name.

For the first time, she was invisible.

And she loved it.

Josh stole glances at her, noticing the spark in her gaze. It eased some of the tension in his chest. At least she wasn't repulsed. At least she wasn't scolding him.

After minutes of walking, a neon glow caught her attention. Music pulsed faintly from a building at the alley's end, its doors guarded by men with tattoos curling up their necks. Laughter, shouting, and bass vibrated through the ground.

A club.

Not just any club—the infamous den where gangsters from across Europe gathered. A place where danger lived openly, and names like hers would never be spoken aloud.

Her eyes lingered.

Josh sighed, his voice low. "It's where I come when I need to forget a bad day."

Her lips curved into a teasing smile. "Bad day? Am I the reason for those bad days?"

The question made his stomach drop. "Miss, I didn't mean—"

Her sudden laugh cut him off. Genuine, unrestrained, startlingly bright. It filled the alley, echoing off the walls.

Josh froze, staring. He had never seen her like this.

The woman everyone called the Silva treasure, who moved like a porcelain doll carved from marble, was laughing like a girl who'd stolen the night for herself.

He couldn't look away.

"Let's go," she said suddenly, her eyes glinting with mischief. "I want to see what you do to forget."

She walked ahead, daring him to follow.

And he did. Always.

⸻

The bouncer barely spared them a glance when they slipped inside. Elena's disguise was perfect. To him, she was just another street kid trailing behind her older brother.

The club swallowed them whole.

Flashing lights bled across smoke-filled air. The bass of the music rattled through the floor, each beat thudding in Elena's chest. The sharp scent of alcohol mixed with sweat and perfume.

Around them, chaos reigned: men shouting over gambling tables, women with sequined dresses laughing too loudly, deals whispered in dark corners.

Elena stood still, her eyes wide. For the first time, she was in a world untouched by her name. A world of sin, noise, and wild freedom.

Josh leaned close so she could hear him over the music. "Stay near me."

She tilted her head, amused. "You think I'd run?"

"I think you'd get yourself in trouble."

Her smirk deepened. "Maybe I want to."

Josh groaned under his breath. He didn't know if he wanted to strangle her or protect her more fiercely than ever.

He led her toward a quieter corner, where a group of men sat around a table stacked with cards and cash. They greeted Josh with nods of familiarity. To them, he was no stranger.

Elena slipped into the chair opposite him, her cap shadowing her face.

Josh picked up the cards, his fingers moving with the ease of someone who'd done this too many times. He smirked, bluffing, tossing chips into the pot, his sharp edges softening in this world where he didn't have to be her silent shadow.

And Elena watched.

She watched the way his eyes lit up when he tricked his opponents. The way his shoulders loosened, his laughter spilling freely. She had never seen him like this.

"Is this how you forget?" she asked quietly when a hand ended.

Josh met her eyes, surprised. "For a while."

Her gaze softened. "Then let me forget with you."

For thirty stolen minutes, Elena Silva wasn't the heiress locked in golden chains. She was just a girl in borrowed clothes, watching her bodyguard bluff at cards.

For thirty minutes, she wasn't watched. She wasn't caged.

She was free.

⸻

When they finally stepped back into the cool night, Elena tugged her cap lower to hide the rare smile tugging at her lips.

Josh walked beside her in silence, his hands in his pockets, but his mind restless.

He knew this was dangerous. Bringing her here, showing her this life, letting her taste freedom. It was reckless.

But when he looked at her—truly looked—he couldn't regret it.

Her eyes glowed brighter than the city lights.

And for the first time, Josh wondered if the world would ever be enough to keep her chained.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***