Chapter 2 Inside A Strangers Mansion

The world spun sideways.

Elena's legs gave out. The wet pavement rose up to meet her as her body crumpled under the weight of exhaustion and terror. She barely heard the scuff of boots approaching-the shuffle of more than one man. Shadows with purpose.

A voice-sharp, commanding-broke through the ringing in her ears.

"She's bleeding. Bring her in. Now."

Arms, strong and unyielding, lifted her from the cold ground. The alley lights faded into nothingness.

Darkness gave way to gold.

Elena's lashes fluttered, her lids heavy as stone. At first, she thought she was dreaming. The ceiling above her gleamed with intricate moldings, painted in soft creams and golds. A crystal chandelier hung above her like frozen fire, unmoving and quiet. The room was too quiet. No hum of traffic. No city shouts. Just silence-thick, unnatural.

She stirred, and pain bloomed across her side like a thorny vine. She winced.

Sheets-silk, warm. A mattress that cradled her like arms that didn't exist.

Where am I?

The air smelled like cinnamon and money. Polished wood. Expensive perfumes. Nothing familiar. Not the hospital. Not the street. Definitely not her tiny apartment with the paint-chipped walls and Marissa's drying herbs hanging in the kitchen.

Marissa.

The name struck like lightning. A gasp clawed its way up her throat. Her heart kicked against her ribs. She sat up too fast-dizzy, panicked.

She wasn't dreaming.

A golden mirror across the room reflected the truth: her hair matted, her face pale, eyes red-rimmed and wide with something between grief and horror. A bruised cut ran across her brow. Dried blood crusted near her collarbone.

She clawed at the silk sheets like they were binding her. Too soft. Too unfamiliar. Too safe for a world that had just murdered her friend.

The walls were too pristine to have witnessed the chaos from last night.

But her mind hadn't left.

Flashback.

Marissa had been laughing-curls bouncing, cheeks glowing with wine and celebration. "Next stop: Nurse Rivera, savior of hot doctors."

Elena had giggled, her face flushed, slapping her friend with a pillow.

The door had creaked open. The joy had evaporated.

Two shots.

Red.

Then silence.

Elena pressed her palms to her face. The scream never left her lips, trapped behind a wall of salt and tears. Her shoulders began to shake. She folded into herself, knees drawn to her chest. She couldn't stop the images. Couldn't stop hearing the gurgle in Marissa's throat as the life drained out of her. Couldn't stop seeing the man's eyes-unfeeling, cold, amused.

Marissa had begged for nothing. She hadn't even gotten a chance.

Elena had lived.

But at what cost?

Footsteps.

Heavy. Purposeful.

She froze. Her head jerked toward the door.

It opened with a gentle click, and light spilled across the marble floor. A figure entered, tall and poised like he belonged to this place-like the silence itself obeyed him.

He stopped at the foot of the bed. Said nothing for a moment. Just stared.

Then, in a voice that was low, rich, and laced with something dangerous, he asked,

"You're finally awake?"

Elena flinched.

Something primal rippled through her-fear, confusion, disbelief.

She didn't answer. Couldn't.

Her voice was hiding somewhere deep in her gut, buried beneath the scream she hadn't yet released.

The man stepped closer. His face was still shadowed by the light behind him, but she could make out a sharp jawline, dark eyes, a tailored black suit that whispered money and menace. His presence filled the room-like smoke curling around her lungs.

"I won't hurt you," he said.

A lie?

Or worse-a truth with conditions?

Elena's fingers gripped the edge of the blanket, bunching it around her like a shield. Her mind scrambled for clarity. Why was she here? Who was he? Was this some twisted second act to the horror show from earlier?

He tilted his head slightly, as if reading her thoughts. "You collapsed near my estate's perimeter. My men thought you were dead."

Her voice came out raw. "Maybe I should've been."

It wasn't a cry for pity. It was the closest thing to honesty she had left.

The man didn't flinch. His gaze didn't soften. But he nodded-once. As if he understood that kind of grief. The kind that sits in your bones and howls at the moon.

"Your injuries have been tended. You're safe here. For now."

For now.

That meant there were terms.

That meant she wasn't safe.

Not really.

Elena shifted, slowly pulling her legs under her. Her body felt both too light and unbearably heavy. She hated that she was in clean clothes-black leggings and a soft tunic-not the wine-stained dress from the night before. That meant someone had changed her.

She hated that she hadn't woken up sooner. That her memories came in jagged bursts. That her world had turned to ash while this place still glittered like a palace.

"Why help me?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

The man didn't answer. Not yet. Instead, he moved toward the window, pulled the curtains open just a crack. Morning light spilled in, soft and golden, and it painted his face for the first time.

Sharp cheekbones. A scar near his lip. Cold eyes that had seen too much.

Not cruel.

But not kind, either.

Something in between.

Elena stared at him, trying to piece it all together. She remembered the SUV. The headlights. Her legs giving out. Then black.

Who was he?

And why did her gut say she'd just traded one nightmare for another?

In her mind, Marissa laughed again.

A memory.

A ghost.

Elena swallowed the sob rising in her throat. She couldn't fall apart now. Not in front of this stranger. Not in this house that smelled like secrets.

"I want to leave," she said, knowing even as the words left her lips that they were pointless.

He turned from the window. "You will. When it's safe."

He left then-just like that. No further explanation. No questions. Just a quiet closing of the door behind him.

Elena sat frozen.

She didn't cry.

Not yet.

Instead, she stared at the door, at the chandelier, at her reflection in the golden mirror.

And she whispered the only name that mattered.

"Marissa."