Savage Mafia King (Mafia Royals #1)

3. Elena

3

Elena

“Why are we here, Elena? This guy is a murderer.”

Marie’s voice slices through the stillness of the room, trembling yet defiant. Her eyes, wide with fear and confusion, bore into mine, demanding an explanation I don’t have the energy to give. I can feel the weight of her accusation as if it were chains binding my limbs, but I don’t know how to answer. Exhaustion gnaws at the edges of my consciousness.

Last night, when Dimitri took control, I felt an unexpected sense of relief wash over me. After so many days of running, of carrying the burden of survival on my shoulders, I finally felt… safe. For once, someone else was in charge, someone who wasn’t scared. And even if that someone was a killer, it was better than the alternative.

“Dimitri is part of Father’s world,” I murmur, my voice hollow. “He’s from one of the families we can trust.”

“Trust?” Marie's voice cracks, as if the word itself has betrayed her. The look in her eyes is something I don’t recognize—grief and rage twisted together in a way that sends a shiver through me.

“I don’t know what you expect of me, Marie,” I snap, my patience fraying. “We need someone who can take care of us. I can’t do this alone anymore.”

Her lips tighten into a thin line, and she crosses her arms over her chest, defiant. “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it,” I hiss, my voice sharper than I intend. “But you do have to accept it. Because we don’t have any other options.”

A knock on the door interrupts the tension between us. I already know who it is before I hear the heavy footfalls. Dimitri. The very name sends a strange thrill through me—a mix of dread and something far more dangerous.

“That’s probably him,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Be nice, Marie.”

I smooth my dress and sit in the breakfast nook, adopting the perfect posture Father always insisted upon. Appearances were everything in our world, even in the midst of chaos.

The door swings open, and Dimitri steps in, his presence commanding, overwhelming. His dark eyes sweep over the room, and for a brief moment, they lock with mine. A shiver runs down my spine. He’s followed by a woman dressed in a pristine apron, carrying a silver tray laden with food. She moves silently, setting down plates, cutlery, and enough food to feed an army. Without a word, she disappears, leaving the three of us alone in the heavy silence.

Dimitri takes a seat across from us, the muscles in his arms rippling as he casually pours coffee into the cups in front of us. There’s an unsettling grace to his movements, as though even the smallest action could hold lethal intent. He pours orange juice for Marie, his expression inscrutable, and nods for us to eat.

I reach for my cup, fingers trembling slightly as I pour cream into my coffee. The rich aroma is a welcome distraction from the tension crackling in the air. Marie hesitates before stacking her plate with pancakes, drowning them in syrup like a child trying to reclaim some semblance of normalcy. I can only manage some fruit, my appetite long since lost to the turmoil in my mind.

Dimitri eats with the same deliberate precision he seems to bring to everything, his dark gaze flicking between me and Marie as if assessing every move we make.

The silence grows heavier, suffocating, until he finally turns to my sister. “Marie, that’s your name, right?”

She nods, her mouth full of syrupy pancakes.

“I’d like to speak to your sister alone,” he says, his voice calm but carrying an edge of finality.

Panic flares in my chest. The last thing I want is to be left alone with him. But before I can protest, he turns to Marie with a slow, calculating smile.

“We have horses here. You can go see them. There’s a woman outside the door who will take you.”

Horses. Of course. Marie’s one weakness. She swallows hard, her earlier defiance crumbling at the prospect of escape, however temporary.

“Really?” she whispers, her eyes lighting up with cautious hope.

“Yes.” Dimitri’s smile is cold, almost predatory. “I promise your sister will be safe with me.”

He turns to me, and my breath catches in my throat as his gaze pierces through me. “And I promise you, Marie will be safe as well. She won’t leave the estate.”

I swallow, trying to steady the pulse racing in my ears. There’s no point in arguing. I nod stiffly. “Of course. Marie, go see the horses.”

Marie hugs me quickly, muttering her thanks to both of us before slipping out of the room. The door closes with a soft click, leaving me alone with Dimitri.

The silence between us feels like a predator circling its prey.

“What is it you wanted to talk about?” I ask, my voice thinner than I’d like.

“Marriage.”

The word drops between us like a bomb. I feel my body go cold, and the world tilts. I grip the edge of the table to steady myself, my mind racing to comprehend what he just said.

“Excuse me?” I whisper, barely able to form the words.

“I want you to marry me,” he says, his tone casual, as though he’s discussing the weather. “You need a husband. I need a wife. It’s a simple arrangement. I save the orphaned daughters of the Giordano clan, and you gain a powerful ally. A beneficial partnership for both of us.”

Partnership? The word twists in my mind like a cruel joke. He’s talking about alliances and power, but all I can think about is the dark undercurrent in his gaze. This man, this murderer, expects me to marry him. To let him into my life, my body, my bed.

My throat tightens, and I can’t breathe. The walls feel like they’re closing in, the air too thick, too heavy. I gasp, trying to pull myself out of the spiral of panic, but it’s too late.

Everything fades to black.