LOGINCHAPTER 2
I roughly shoved him away, glaring hatefully as I retorted. “You're not my fiance” … “i don't know what your family might have done to force my father into accepting the alliance but I can assure you that a wedding won't be taking place any time soon , especially not mine” He chuckled lightly as he pulled out a white slik handkerchief and gently wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth. “Judging by the blood on your lips and the finger markings on your cheek, I don't think your father has any plans of entertaining your resistance” With that he turned and left without looking back but just as he walked away, I spotted a strange man secretly watching us from the background, feeling annoyed I decided to pay it no mind. I spent the rest of the afternoon couped up in my room, seething in anger when my father finally came knocking. “Elisa darling, won't you open up and let daddy in” he coaxed but I turned a deaf ear to his words, burying my head even deeper into my pillows. He eventually got tired of knocking and decided to let himself in with a spare key. He barged into my room with an apologetic smile as he ushered in several maids bearing lavished gifts. “Elisa, look what daddy got you” … “I remember you desperately wanted to get your hands and a pair of those new Cameron cane shoes, right?” “Umm, sir I think you mean Calvin Klein” the head maid interjected. “Oh… yes, thank you” he voiced before forcefully prying me from my bed. “Princess, are you still mad at me?” His obnoxious question answer itself when he saw my swollen cheek and puffy eyes. “Oh my” he gasped, his eyes darting around my face. “hurry, get me an ice pack” the head maid immediately handed him an ice pack rapped in a soft cotton towel. He dabbed gently on my swollen cheek, ensuring not to hold it on for too long whilst apologizing profusely. I completely ignored his apologies and pathetic attempt at coaxing, refusing to even looking in his direction. The head maid (Nanny Rebecca) chimed in, pleading on my father's behalf. “Elisa, you shouldn't hold a grudge against your father. Give him a chance to explain the situation and why he acted the way he did, I'm sure he had his reasons, right sir Eliot?” “Of course” father beamed, nodding in desperation but I cut him off “Nanny, you weren't there to see how hard he hit me, he completely humiliated me and choose to side with mom's killers. And now he's only apologizing with all these gifts to convince me to marry into the family of those murderers” Dad let out a long sigh as he dismissed the rest of the staffs only leaving Nanny Rebecca behind. “Look, Elisa. No father would wholeheartedly want to give his daughter's hand in marriage to a spawn of his enemy, but it's just… it's just that things are a lot more complicated than they seem. The Greyhounds obviously aren't here with good intentions but this marriage alliance might be our only chance to avenge your mother's death. It'll be easier to take down their entire operation and crumble their empire once we have one of our own within their walls. It wasn't my intention from the beginning to get you involved in something this dangerous but when they came proposing a marriage alliance i saw it as what could be our only opportunity.” … “I already tried sending in spies months ago but none of them have been able to get close enough to the information we need but if you accept the alliance and marry Damian you'll be able to secretly assist my men within their walls. It shouldn't prove too difficult to win Damian over with your looks and use him as a pawn to bring justice to his father's evil deeds” “No one wants revenge more than I do but this seems a little far fetched, even for me.” I voiced, feeling uncertain. “Far fetched was when they decided to murder my wife.” He retorted, his voice rising in fury as he revisited the memory of my mother's demise. “But it's okay if you don't want to go through with any of this, I won't force you to do anything you're not comfortable with. I'm sure I'll be able to find another way to get revenge” I could help feeling guilty upon hearing his words. After a bit of deliberation, I finally agreed to follow his lead and avenge my mother. He was overjoyed when I finally agreed and promised he'd bring me back himself once the operation was successful. After settling the misunderstanding between us I didn't hesitate to accept the numerous gifts he brought along. I scanned through the items with excitement until I saw something that triggered my dissatisfaction. “Seriously Dad, only 12 gold bars? Are we going bankrupt?” Nanny tried to urge me to ignore it but I wasn't budging. After listening to my whining for so long dad finally agreed to get me whatever I wanted as compensation. “I'd like my monthly allowance to be increased to $150 million, Deal?” My father eyes almost bulged out of his head upon hearing the amount I was requesting. “$150 million? That's an outrageous amount besides I already increased your allowance last month” “But you only increased it to $70 million and it's barely enough for my expenses…” “What expenses?” He interrupted. “ You always use my card to pay for everything, refusing to spend your own money. So what exactly do you need $150 million for?” I dramatically fell into Nanny Rebecca's arms as I began sobbing hysterically. “Nanny, I'm already doing some much for him and all I request is a mere $150 million in return and he's refusing” Under the immense pressure from me and nanny Rebecca's persuasion, father eventually agreed. (A WEEK LATER)... In the blink of an eye, the memories of my father's generous bribes were far behind me as I stood frozen at the entrance of the Greyhounds family estate.The bathroom door was closed.Elisa leaned over the sink, gripping the porcelain so tightly her knuckles had gone white. Her reflection stared back at her—pale, hollow, eyes rimmed red. Sweat clung to her temples, damp strands of newly dyed black hair sticking to her cheeks.Her stomach twisted violently.She barely managed to turn before retching again, her body convulsing as bile burned her throat. The sound echoed too loudly in the quiet space. She coughed, gasping, eyes watering as she straightened with trembling hands.“Pull yourself together,” she whispered hoarsely.For days now, every meal had betrayed her. Her body, weakened from months of starvation, rejected nourishment like poison. Eat—vomit. Eat—vomit. Over and over again.She rinsed her mouth, pressing a shaking hand to her aching stomach, breathing through the nausea until it dulled.That was when she heard a different voice, not that of the assistant and receptionist she had met earlier on. This one sounded more mascul
Darkness swallowed her.The gunshot echoed endlessly, louder and louder, until it became—“Ma'am. Mrs. Rowan.”Her eyes flew open.“Elisa—we’ve arrived.”She gasped sharply, hand flying to her chest. Her heart was racing violently, her breathing uneven, shallow. For a moment, she couldn’t move. She was soaked in cold sweat, her hair clinging to her temples, her hands trembling uncontrollably.The driver turned slightly in his seat, concern flickering across his face.“Are you alright, ma’am?”She swallowed hard, blinking rapidly as the image of Leonard’s smile, the gun, the alley, all dissolved into the dim interior of the car.“…Yes,” she whispered hoarsely. “I’m fine.”A dream.Just a dream.She pressed her fingers into her palms, grounding herself, forcing her breath to slow. Leonard wasn’t here. He hadn’t found her. She was safe. She had been safe for three months.Still, it took effort to open the car door.The towering building loomed before her, glass and steel reaching into th
Three months had passed.Three months since Elisa had crossed the gates of Rowan’s villa.Three months since she had last stepped into the outside world.The days blurred together inside those walls—quiet, heavy, suffocating. Curtains were always drawn. Doors always locked. Footsteps always made her flinch. Even sunlight felt dangerous, like it could betray her location to the wrong eyes.She hadn’t left.Not once.Not for air.Not for walks.Not for freedom.Fear had become her second skin.The phone rang.Elisa stared at it for a long time before answering.“…Hello?”“Elisa.” Rowan’s voice came through, calm but firm. “You didn’t eat again, did you?”She swallowed. “I wasn’t hungry.”“You haven’t been hungry for three months,” he replied quietly.She said nothing.“I want you to come have lunch with me,” Rowan said. “At my office.”Her heart dropped.“No.” The word came out sharp, instinctive. “I can’t.”“Why?”“You know why,” she whispered. “I don’t go out.”“Elisa—”“I don’t leave
For a moment, Damian didn’t move.He simply stared at her as though the words had struck him physically.“…What?” he whispered.Elisa sat rigid on the edge of the bed, her hands folded tightly in her lap, fingers trembling so badly she had to press them together to keep them still. Her eyes were lowered, her shoulders hunched inward like she was bracing for impact.Damian took one step toward her.“I—what did you say?” he asked again, louder this time, disbelief sharpening his voice. “Elisa, what did you just say?”Before she could answer, he rushed forward and grabbed her arm.His grip was firm—too sudden.She flinched violently.Her breath hitched, eyes widening in instinctive terror.Damian froze instantly.“I—I’m sorry—!” He released her at once, hands lifting in surrender. “God—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you like that. I just—I thought I misheard you.”He swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair, pacing once before stopping in front of her again—this time keeping a c
A week had passed.Seven days since Elisa had woken up in a strange bed, in a strange house, with the ghost of death still clinging to her skin.Seven days of quiet.The house Damian lived in was nothing like the Greyhound estate. It was large, yes—clearly expensive—but it didn’t feel like a fortress. There were no armed guards standing at every corner, no suffocating silence laced with threat. Sunlight streamed freely through wide windows. The walls were painted in warm, neutral tones. Everything felt… lived in.Safe.And yet, safety was something Elisa still didn’t know how to exist inside of.She spent most of her days in one of the guest bedrooms—her room now—sitting by the window or curled up on the bed, lost somewhere between memories and exhaustion. Damian never forced her to talk. Never demanded explanations. He moved around her carefully, as if afraid a single wrong step might shatter her.Their relationship changed slowly, cautiously.Every morning, without fail, Damian brou
Leonard sat alone in his home office, the world reduced to silence and soft breathing.The room was vast, lined with dark mahogany shelves filled with leather-bound volumes and framed oil paintings—artifacts of power, wealth, and history. Heavy curtains filtered the afternoon light into a warm amber glow, casting elongated shadows across the polished floor. Normally, the room felt cold, suffocating. A place where orders were issued and lives were ended with a flick of his wrist.But today, it was different.Cradled carefully in his arms was a small bundle wrapped in pale blue fabric.His son.Leonard’s grip was firm yet strangely gentle, one hand supporting the infant’s head, the other curled protectively around his tiny back. His posture—so often rigid, predatory—had softened. His shoulders were relaxed. His breathing slow.The baby stirred slightly, making a small, content sound, and Leonard instinctively adjusted his hold, his thumb brushing against the child’s cheek with an unfami







