Elenas Pov:
I can still hear the sound of gunshots as clear as a bell. My breathing only began to slow down after Adrian led us out of the building and into the car, but my fingers and legs are still a bit shaky.
I glance at Adrian in the driver's seat. His demeanor is still as calm as always. He doesn't look a bit shaken by what just occurred.
Well, I don't exactly expect him to. He's probably experienced worse.
He also hasn't said a word since we got into the car. One arm rests on the armrest, while the other is on the wheel, his gaze focused on the road.
I drag my eyes away from him and stare out the window. The city is lit up with bright lights, clearing out all the darkness.
My eyes dart to my ring, and I circle the object with a finger. Such a small object, yet the weight of it feels so heavy against my skin.
I haven't fully registered the fact that I'm now a wife. Not just any wife, but wife to Adrian Moretti, one of the most feared men in the Italian Mafia.
And he's my father's rival. Or was. I still can't wrap my head around how they both came to this decision. But more so, I'm also beginning to realize that I've become a target. Being Adrian's wife is exposing me to more danger than I can imagine.
"What are you thinking?" Adrian's deep voice pulls me out of thought. I hesitate for a bit, contemplating if I should voice out my worry or just sit there like an obedient wife.
I go with the former. "I uh... I'm just realizing that I've now become a target."
He doesn't say anything, so I go to explain further.
"Now that I'm your wife, I'm more exposed to–"
"I'll kill anyone before they lay their hands on you."
I turn to look at him but his attention is still focused on the road. The way he said that made it seem like he cares. Like he meant it. But I know better than anyone that those were just words.
My eyes dart back out the window. I don't say anything again, and neither does he. The rest of the drive is silent. Only our breaths fill the space.
The car slows after what feels like an eternity of awkward silence. It stops in front of a tall iron gate. The gate opens and he pulls into a driveway.
My heart starts beating fast again. Each passing second, I realize how real our marriage is.
When the car stops, he's the first to get down. I join him a second later, then follow him into the house. The moment I step in, I'm blown away. If I thought the outside of the house was beautiful, then this... this is just magical.
A gold chandelier hangs from the ceiling, and light spills through the grand hall, catching edges of polished marble.
"Your new home," Adrian says.
New home
Adrian's phone rings and he answers. "Speak."
A muffled voice comes through, but I can't quite make out the words.
Adrian switches to Russian. A language I'm not quite familiar with. He then ends the call and turns to me.
"Make yourself at home," he says. "Your room is upstairs on the far left."
"My room?"
"Yes. Mine's to the right."
Separate rooms.
A small sense of relief washes over me at the fact that I won't be forced to share a bed with him. But beneath that relief, I feel a strange mix of sadness? Emptiness?
"I have some things to attend to," he adds. "I won't be back till late, so don't bother waiting."
He's leaving me alone in this huge, empty house?
A tight pang hits my chest at the thought.
"There's food in the fridge if you're hungry. And I also had someone take your luggage to your room already so you don't have to worry about that."
"We'll talk when I get back." He turns to leave.
"Adrian." I don't know why I call his name, but it's already too late to stop myself.
He stops without turning, hands in his pockets.
"Don't stay out too late." As soon as the words leave my lips, I regret them.
He lets out a deep breath. That's it. No words. And then he leaves.
The sound of the door clicking echoes through the walls, reminding me that I'm all alone. No maids, servants, no one. Except for the few guards that were stationed outside of the house, but that doesn't count.
Even a nod would have sufficed. At least it would have been better than the silence I was met with.
I stand there in silence for a while, before I decide to head upstairs and change.
My room here is bigger than the one I had at home. White walls, gold detailing, etc. And yet, it still feels empty.
I fall back on the bed with a small hmph and release a deep breath I didn't even know I was holding. Raising my hand up, I study my ring. The small object glistens under the light. Anytime it shines like this, it reminds me of how little of my life belongs to me now.
I drop my hand back down and sigh. My mind drifts to Anya. Her voice, her laughter, all her little squeals. I remember the way she used to run around the house, urging me to play along with her.
The way she'd always check up on me and ask if something was bothering me, even if she didn't really understand those things at the time.
At least she cared. She was there for me as I was for her. Until I wasn't.
Memories of the explosion fill my mind. It's the only thing I can hear, see, smell.
Warm liquid slides down the side of my face. I shut my eyes, trying to push the memories out of my head but they won't fade.
I get up and pull out of my dress. I'm exhausted. Exhausted with the night, with this marriage, with everything.
I need to shower. Maybe that'll take my mind off things.
20 minutes later, I'm done showering. I don't have it in me to organize my dresser tonight. Tomorrow's another day after all, so I just take out a silk nightie from one of my boxes and slide it on.
I crawl under the blanket, leaving the bedside lamp on. It's the only thing that feels like company in this hollow place.
My body is exhausted, but my mind is still wandering.
The last image I see before sleep pulls me under is of Adrian. I see the way he protected me through the chaos. The way he led me to safety.
But then I also see the coldness that came afterwards. His indifference. I can't seem to read him no matter how hard I try, so how could I ever understand him?
I can only hope that the days ahead won't be as silent or cold.
With one last sigh, I drift into sleep.
Adrians pov:
The faint smell of gunpowder still lingers in the cold air. My men are scattered all over the place, cleaning up whatever mess was made during the chaos.
I'm back at the hall, and it's only a reminder of how things could have easily gone south.
"Boss, we've cleared the whole area," one of my men says. "No leads. Whoever did this knew to cover their tracks."
"Any casualties on our side?"
"Three dead, two wounded– they're being treated now."
I nod silently.
"Keep digging. Don't stop until you find something."
"Yes, boss."
I try to focus, but my mind is somewhere else. Against my own will.
The image of Elena bent up on the floor, wide-eyed and trembling plays in my head.
If I hadn't gotten to her quickly... If I wasted even a little time, she may have already been dead.
They dare open a shootout on my wedding day? When I saw her like that, I felt a bitter pain in my chest. I felt the urge to protect her. Keep her safe. She is my wife after all. It is part of my duties to her.
I drag a hand through my hair and let out an exasperated sigh. I give more orders before heading for the car.
The drive home is quiet, streetlights blurring through the windshield. By the time I get home, it's past midnight already. Elena's probably asleep. I climb up the stairs. All the lights are dimmed, except for one. Elena's.
I keep heading for my room but stop halfway.
I should sleep. It's late.
But my feet drag me in the opposite direction.
Her door is slightly ajar. I look through the gap and see her curled up under her blanket that's only covering half of her body.
I push open the door gently and step inside without a sound. As I walk over to her bedside, I catch sight of her ring. It glistens faintly under the dim light.
Her hair is scattered all over her face, covering almost all of it. Without thinking, I reach forward and push the hair out of her face, and her sleeping face comes into view.
She looks so peaceful as she sleeps. Her breathing is calm, steady. Something I haven't felt in years.
I don't know why I came here or what I'm doing here. But a part of me feels like I'm where I'm supposed to be.
I push that feeling to the back of my mind and pull the blanket over her shoulders, my hand lingering for a second too long, before I step back.
I don't turn off the lamp. She might have left it on intentionally.
When I step out, I take one last long look at her before I close the door behind me.
"Leverage is all she is. Nothing more," I whisper to myself before heading for my room.