CHAPTER 4: The Mark of a Predator

As the sunlight bathed his face, I looked up, staring at it. That small smirk on his lips wasn't a smirk of victory; it was one of pure satisfaction, as if the adrenaline from the recent kill was a drug to him.

"You... you killed him," my voice caught, barely a whisper. "Without a second of hesitation... you killed him right in front of my eyes!"

Adrian crouched down in front of me. He used the tip of his pistol—still warm from the discharge—to lift my chin, forcing me to meet his dark eyes, which left no room for empathy. The sensation of the cold metal against my skin made me shiver in terror.

"I just protected you, Little Duck." If I hadn't pulled that trigger, he would have pulled his gun on you," he hissed lowly. "Welcome to the real world. The world where my father and I reign. A place where honesty is worthless and lives are just numbers in a transaction."

"My mother doesn't know about this," I said, my breath hitching. "She would never have married a monster if she knew!"

Adrian let out a short, dry laugh—hollow and devoid of warmth. "Your mother only sees what she wants to see. She sees a wealthy man who can save her from poverty. She doesn't want to know where the piles of cash come from. But you..." He leaned in closer, bringing the sharp scent of gunpowder clinging to his clothes with him. "You have eyes far too sharp to remain blind, little duck."

He stood up and lit a cigarette, his hands not trembling in the slightest. A thin trail of smoke drifted into the air.

"Control yourself. "Don't show that face when we get home," he commanded coldly. "If you breathe a single word to your mother about what happened today, I cannot guarantee the safety of the people you care about out there. Do you understand?"

I could only remain silent, hugging myself in the middle of that desolate loading dock. Not only was my stepbrother mysterious, but he also occupied the highest position in the food chain I had just entered.

"Let’s go," he said, pulling the car door open roughly. "Enough drama for today. We need to dispose of the evidence of this car."

I stood up with what little strength I had left, glancing one last time at the overturned van. There, behind the crushed steering wheel, I saw a unique tattoo on the driver’s arm—a serpent coiled around a dagger.

The journey back was tense and suffocating. Adrian didn't take us straight home; instead, he stopped at a secluded car wash on the outskirts of the city.

Two men with stony faces were already waiting there. Without a word, they took over the car—the one with the cracked windows and bullet holes—and handed over the keys to another vehicle, a silver sedan that looked ordinary and inconspicuous.

We returned in that silver sedan.

Throughout the rest of the drive back to the mansion, I could only stare at my hands, which were still shaking. This was the first time I had witnessed something so horrific. My life had been hard—I had seen people fight before—but to see someone killed... this was a first.

"Wipe your tears, Little Duck," Adrian's voice broke the silence as the giant iron gates of Victor's estate opened automatically. "Remember our deal. One wrong word, and you’ll regret it."

I took a deep breath, trying to stabilize my racing heart. When the car stopped at the porch, Adrian got out and opened my door with a gesture of perfect politeness—a flawless performance for anyone watching from behind the windows.

Inside, the aroma of toasted bread and fresh coffee filled the air. The atmosphere was so domestic and normal that it felt almost insane after what I had just experienced.

"You're back?" Mother appeared from the kitchen wearing a floral apron. Her face was glowing. "How was the registration, Alina? Did everything go smoothly?"

I felt Adrian’s palm land on my shoulder. His squeeze was gentle, yet to me, it felt like a predator’s grip warning its prey to stay silent.

"It went well, Mom." My voice sounded thin, almost unrecognizable. "I just... have a bit of a headache from the heat."

"Oh, sweetheart, you do look very pale." Mother approached, touching my forehead anxiously. "Adrian, did Alina give you a hard time?"

Adrian gave a thin smile that looked so sincere it could deceive an angel. "Of course not, Auntie. Just a bit of a traffic delay, right, Alina?"

I nodded stiffly, not daring to meet my mother's eyes. I felt like a traitor.

Victor came downstairs, wearing a maroon silk robe. He looked at us both, his gaze lingering on Adrian for a moment. There was a wordless communication passing between them. Adrian gave a slight nod, and Victor reciprocated, as though he had just received news of the mission's success.

"You're back. How was the campus, Alina?" Victor asked, walking toward me with a warm and friendly look.

"The campus is enormous, Father. I like it," I replied as briefly as possible. My voice was still trembling, and I hoped Victor would mistake it for the shyness of a stepdaughter rather than the shock of seeing his son shoot someone in the head.

Victor smiled and patted Adrian’s shoulder proudly. "Thank you for looking after your sister, Adrian. You are indeed reliable in any situation."

To my mother, those words sounded like a normal compliment, but to me, they were an acknowledgment of the brutality that had just occurred. The "situation" Victor meant wasn't traffic or paperwork—it was a gunfight.

"Always, Father," Adrian replied flatly. His eyes flickered to me for a split second, a cold warning to stay in character. "Alina needs rest. She's a bit shocked by... the city crowds."

"Of course, of course. Go rest, Alina. I’ll have a maid bring lunch to your room later," Victor said warmly.

I quickly excused myself and nearly ran up the stairs. I needed walls. I needed a locked door. I needed distance from these men.

Once in my room, I immediately locked the door and slid down to the cold floor. The sobs I had been stifling finally broke through, but I covered my mouth with my hand to keep the sound in. Tears flowed freely, soaking my cotton blouse, which now felt like a shroud.

The image of the snake coiled around the dagger kept spinning in my head. Who were they? And why did they attack Adrian’s car? Was this scenario going to happen every day?

Suddenly, my doorknob turned. Click.

I jumped and stood up quickly. I had locked it; I was sure of it! Yet, the door opened slowly. Adrian stood there, casually twirling a spare key between his long fingers. He entered without permission, closed the door behind him, and locked it again from the inside.

"Get out of my room!" I hissed, stepping back until my back hit the edge of the bed.

Adrian didn't respond. He stepped closer, ignoring my personal space until I could smell the faint scent of cigarettes on him again. He pulled a small box from his pocket—a black velvet box.

"Wear this," he commanded, opening it. Inside was a necklace with a jet-black pendant shaped like a finely cut water droplet.

"I don't want anything from you," I rejected him flatly. "I don’t need jewelry from a killer."

Adrian took a deep breath, clearly losing his patience. Without warning, he grabbed my shoulders and spun me to face the mirror. He pulled my hair to the side, exposing my neck, and forcibly fastened the necklace. His cold fingers brushed against my skin, making me freeze in terror and something else I couldn't explain.

"This isn't jewelry, Little Duck," he whispered right into my ear. His voice was low and raspy, sending a strange shiver through my nerves. "This is a GPS tracker. There’s a microchip inside this stone."

I fell silent, staring at our reflection in the mirror. He stood directly behind me, his hands still near my throat.

"If something happens, if those tattooed men come back and I'm not near you, I will know where you are in seconds," he continued. His sharp eyes locked onto mine through the mirror. "They know your face now. You are a target, whether you like it or not."

"Why do you care so much? You said I was just a burden!" I challenged, trying to turn around, but he held my shoulders firmly.

Adrian lowered his face, closing the gap until his lips were almost touching my earlobe. "You are a burden, little duck. But you are my burden. And I don’t like it when anyone else dares to touch what is mine."

He released his grip and took a step back, giving me room to breathe. He looked at me once more with an unreadable gaze—a suffocating mix of obsession and protection.

"Don’t ever take it off if you still want to see your mother smiling tomorrow morning," he threatened before turning and walking out of my room, leaving behind the sound of the door clicking shut.

I touched the black pendant on my chest. The metal felt cold, as if it were an invisible handcuff officially binding me to Adrian’s dark world.

***