Chapter 6 - The Unseen Board
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For a week, Seraphina remained locked in the east wing.
She was treated like absolute royalty. Chefs prepared whatever she requested, maids brought her expensive silk dresses and cashmere sweaters, and a doctor checked her vitals twice a day. Yet, the heavy deadbolt on her door served as a constant reminder that she was a prisoner.
Elias visited every evening. He never touched her, but his presence was a physical weight in the room. He sat in the velvet armchair by the window, drinking whiskey, observing her with a dark, intense fascination.
“You are very quiet today, Isabella,” Elias remarked on the seventh evening.
“My name is Seraphina,” she snapped, refusing to look up from the book she was pretending to read.
“You must learn to accept your bloodline,” Elias said smoothly. “Names carry power. Seraphina is a nanny who cleans up spilled juice. Isabella Falcone commands armies.”
“I don't want an army. I want to go back to my life. I want to see Leo.”
At the mention of his son, a microscopic shift occurred in Elias’s posture. The cold, impenetrable mafia boss softened, just for a fraction of a second.
“Leo misses you,” Elias admitted quietly. “He has asked for you every day. I told him you were sick and resting in the guest wing.”
“He is a sweet boy,” Seraphina said, setting her book down. She looked at Elias, searching for the humanity beneath his tailored suits. “He doesn't belong in a house filled with armed guards and secrets.”
“He belongs where I say he belongs,” Elias replied, the softness vanishing instantly. “He is my heir. He will inherit the empire I am building. And to ensure his throne is secure, I must eliminate the traitors in my own house.”
He stood up, walking toward the bed. He tossed a series of photographs onto the mattress.
“The listening device in the south parlor,” Elias said, his voice dropping into a lethal, quiet register. “I have narrowed the list of suspects to three men in my inner circle. My uncle, Silvio. My head of logistics, Marcus. And my chief of security, Stefan.”
Seraphina stared at the photos. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you are the only person in this house I know for a fact is not working for them,” Elias stated logically. “You stumbled onto the security panel by accident. The true spy knows the layout perfectly. I need a fresh set of eyes, Isabella. I need you to help me find the rat.”
“And why would I help the man who locked me in a dark cell for three days?” she asked fiercely.
Elias leaned over the bed, his face inches from hers. The scent of bergamot wrapped around her senses.
“Because if you help me find the traitor,” Elias whispered, “I will ensure your adopted mother in Kingston receives the best cardiac care money can buy. I will pay your sister’s nursing tuition in full. I will keep your family safe.”
It was extortion wrapped in salvation.
Seraphina looked into his stormy gray eyes. She was a pawn on a very bloody chessboard. But for the first time, she saw a path to power.
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“I get to see Leo every day,” Seraphina demanded. “And I don't stay locked in this room.”
A slow, dangerous smile touched Elias’s lips. “Deal.”
