Chapter Four: The Shadow of the Crown

Drake

I don’t know why I felt she was innocent when she said so, but I believed her

I looked at the girl. She was a ghost, trembling on the floor, her eyes wide and wet. The once bold and courageous lioness could not be found

She shook her head violently, her hands splayed out on the marble. “I didn’t do it. I swear. I didn’t,” she said

“Swear to who?” I asked flatly. I didn't want a confession; I wanted the truth, and she looked too small for such a heavy crime.

“To God. To anyone.” Her voice cracked, a jagged sound in the quiet suite. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I’m just a waitress.”

“I---” She swallowed, her throat moving in a hard gulp. “I carried the plate. That’s all. They gave it to me. The supervisor... he told me to come here.”

Silence fell again. It was thick, heavy with the scent of a trap. I stepped away from her, the gears of my mind turning. This was too clumsy for a professional hit, but too perfect for a frame-up.

“Not a word of this leaves this floor,” I said, my voice cutting through the room like a winter wind. I looked at my lead security detail. Keep her in the suite. Guard her. I want her fed, but watched. No phones. No visitors.”

The girl looked up at me with eyes full of salt and terror. She looked like a bird with clipped wings. “Please,” she whispered. “My father is waiting for me.”

I didn't answer. I couldn't.

A few minutes later, they brought in her friend, Ella. The girl screamed Angel’s name, her voice echoing off the walls.

"Keep her quiet," I commanded.

Silence swallowed her whole. The color drained from her face as my security detail leaned in. "Your friend is at the center of a murder investigation," the guard said. "If you speak to the press, her life ends. Do you understand?"

Ella’s mouth snapped shut. I watched them drag her away before I headed for the elevator.

The elevator doors hissed shut. As we moved down, a sharp pain began to claw at my ribs. It wasn't a dizzy spell. It was the curse. It felt like hot lead in my veins. I leaned against the wall and waited for the ride to end.

The doors opened. I walked through the lobby. I reached the car, but the world tilted. My knees gave way. I grabbed the car door, my fingers denting the cold metal as I held myself up.

"Drake!" Gray was there, his hand firm on my arm. Gray had been my right hand and my only true friend for years; he knew my shadows better than I did. "You're swaying. Your skin is gray."

"I am fine," I snapped. I pushed him off and got into the back seat.

Gray sat beside me. He didn't look away. "That is the second time today. A Crane does not stumble."

"It's nothing. Drop it." I leaned my head back against the leather. "Tell me about the girl."

Gray sighed, knowing when to stop pushing. “She’s innocent, Drake. The security footage we recovered from the back alley shows the supervisor meeting a man in a gray car. They swapped the vial there. She was just the delivery girl.”

“I know,” I muttered, my eyes closed.

“Then why keep her? Why not let her go? Her father is sick. Dying, actually.”

“I’m aware.”

“And you’re still doing this? 

I don’t know, she seems to annoy me with her presence and I find it quite interesting, it has been a while anyone could get on my nerve to this point

Gray glanced at me in the mirror. “I already checked her background thoroughly. Angel Molley. Twenty-four. No mother. A father dying in a cramped house. A stepmother and a sister who barely tolerate her. One friend, Ella. That’s it.”

“She’s alone,” I said, the words feeling heavy.

“She’s invisible,” Gray added. He was quiet for a beat, his eyes narrowing as he thought. Then he smiled without humor. “Actually, Drake... our problem just solved itself.”

I looked at him, my brow arching. “Careful, Gray.”

“Think about it. We needed someone clean for the succession requirement. Someone with no political ties. No powerful family to breathe down our necks. Someone desperate enough to sign anything just to keep her father breathing.”

“She’s not a pawn,” I said, though my voice lacked conviction.

“She already is. The moment she carried that plate, she became one.”

I leaned back, thinking of her sharp tongue in the hallway. “She’s sharp. She talks back. She called me pathetic to my face.”

” Gray said. “Desperation is a great teacher.”,” Gray said. 

“And Bianca? What do we do with her?”

“I don’t care about Bianca,” I said, the thought of the woman making my stomach turn.

“She’s the clan’s choice,” Gray reminded me. “She would have been the perfect 'Crane' wife. Polished, cold, Obedient and above all the prophecy says “ she can break the curse. I don’t know why you can't just accept her. But if you truly won't have her, then go with this Molley girl. I think we can make her sign the contract. She needs us more than she hates us.”

“I will think about it,” I said as the car slowed.

The massive iron gates of the Crane estate came into view, glowing under the security lights. As I stepped into the foyer, the smell of rose perfume hit me before the voices did. It was a cloying, suffocating scent.

Thud. My grandmother’s cane struck the marble floor. “You’re late.”

Bianca stood quickly from the sofa, smoothing her silk dress. “Drake—we’ve been waiting.”

“Why are you here?” I asked, not stopping as I moved toward the center of the room.

“We came to discuss your future,” my grandmother said, her voice like gravel. “The board is asking questions about the marriage clause.”

“I wasn’t aware I needed permission to manage my own life.”

“You don’t need permission,” the grandma snapped. “You need obedience. The Clan has decided. Bianca is the choice.”

“I need space,” I said, my voice rising.

Bianca stepped closer, her hand reaching for my arm. “Drake, we can make this work. We grew up in the same circles. I know what the company needs.”

I lifted a hand. She stopped, her face falling.

My grandmother’s eyes narrowed into slits. “You will marry her, Drake. It is settled.”

“I will not.”

“You have no choice!” she shouted, her voice echoing off the high ceilings.

I met her gaze, the same cold fire burning in my blood. “I always do. You seem to forget who I am, Grandmother. I am the one holding this empire together. Don’t push me.”

I turned toward the stairs, my head throbbing again.

“Drake,” she called after me, her voice desperate. “You need her! She will protect you, that’s what the prophecy says Drake

I paused on the landing. The image of Angel, alone and terrified in that guarded hotel room, flashed through my mind. She was a writer. She was a daughter. She was exactly what this cold, dead house needed to burn it down.

“Then prepare the paperwork,” I said, without turning around.

“For the wedding with Bianca?” grandma asked, hope lifting her voice into a high, thin trill.

I looked over my shoulder, a dark, jagged smile playing on my lips. "No. For someone else."

I left them in the silence of the hall, the weight of the decision settling over me like armor. I had just traded one war for another.