Chapter 13 The Mysterious Elijah
Elena sipped her coffee slowly, her eyes tracking how Elijah deftly tidied the cooking utensils. The "gigolo" impression that had stuck so firmly last night was beginning to fade this morning, replaced by the image of a man who was remarkably independent and organized.
"After breakfast, what will you be doing?" Elena asked, breaking the silence. "Will you go back to that convenience store? Or the bar?"
Elijah paused his movements for a moment, then turned with a faint, unreadable smile.
"I have business somewhere. I have to meet someone to discuss a... 'new job'."
Elijah approached the dining table, resting both hands on the back of Elena's chair. Elena could once again smell the fresh scent of bath soap emanating from his skin.
"I’ll drop you off at the office first. But we won't be taking your father’s Bentley that you parked so carelessly downstairs."
Elena furrowed her brow. "Then what? We’re taking a taxi?"
"No. We’re taking the bus," Elijah replied casually.
"The bus?" Elena nearly choked on her coffee. "Elijah, I’ve never taken a bus in this city. It will take forever, and—"
"And you’ll be safe," Elijah cut her off, his voice soft yet firm. "A luxury car like that only makes it easy for your family or Morgan’s people to track you. On the bus, you’re just an ordinary woman in the middle of a New York crowd. Besides, I want you to see the side of the world I live in."
Elena could only shake her head slowly. Elijah was truly extraordinary. The young man before her was like a puzzle where every piece was intentionally hidden. There was an undeniable authority in his voice, yet at the same time, he acted as though he were just a commoner trying to survive.
"Why are you so mysterious, Elijah?" Elena murmured unconsciously.
Elijah let out a low chuckle, the same sound that had made her lose all sense of reality the night before. "Mystery is intriguing, isn't it? Finish your breakfast quickly, My Lady. The bus won't wait for a slow 'employer'."
Elena finally complied. Shortly after, they walked out of the luxury apartment building toward Morgan’s mansion—specifically so she could change clothes first.
"Go ahead and change; I’ll just wait outside the mansion. I don't want to get caught by your husband’s guards, interrogated, and then tortured," Elijah joked. Elena followed his lead.
Half an hour later, Elena felt awkward in her elegant office attire at the bus stop, while Elijah looked perfectly at ease in a clean t-shirt and denim jacket.
When the massive city bus pulled up in front of them, Elijah placed a hand on Elena’s back, shielding her from being pushed by other passengers. Inside the crowded bus, Elijah stood directly in front of Elena, using his sturdy frame as a shield to ensure no strangers brushed against her.
Elena looked up, catching Elijah’s sharp jawline. Amidst the roar of the engine and the chatter of the crowd, she felt a strange sense of protection. She had no idea that as they jolted along on that public bus, Elijah’s assistant, Marcus, was watching from a brand-new black Mercedes following at a safe distance, ensuring not a single speck of dust disturbed his master.
Inside the soundproof cabin of the black Mercedes, Marcus—Elijah’s private assistant who usually wore a stoic expression—could only massage the bridge of his nose while shaking his head. His eyes remained locked on the city bus ahead, but his lips muttered something ridiculous.
"Young Master, have you truly lost your mind?" Marcus whispered to himself in half-disbelief.
"You have bulletproof limousines, private jets, even a helicopter that could land on the roof of Miss Elena’s office in ten minutes. Yet you choose to squeeze into a stuffy public bus just to play the role of 'the poor man protecting his lover'?" Marcus continued his monologue, shaking his head.
Marcus exhaled a long breath, staring at Elijah through the digital binoculars on the dashboard. He saw his master stretching one arm to hold the bus pole, while the other was protectively wrapped around Elena’s waist to keep her from stumbling when the bus braked suddenly.
"Look at that expression," Marcus grumbled with a slight chuckle. "That satisfied smile... he looks like he just won a trillion-dollar lottery, even though he’s just standing near a bus trash can. Honestly, the power of love—or obsession—can turn a genius like Elijah Blackwood into a low-budget drama actor overnight."
Marcus then pressed a button on his steering wheel, connecting to the other shadow teams. "Stay in position. Don't let anyone stand out. And make sure if anyone dares to bump into Miss Elena on that bus, they are removed the moment they step off. The Young Master is thoroughly enjoying his role as a 'commoner'; let’s make sure no one ruins the script."
Back inside the bus, the vehicle had just taken a sharp turn. Elena’s body was pushed forward, crashing into Elijah’s broad chest, which felt as solid as rock.
Elijah didn't let go. Instead, he tightened his hold, leaning down so his nose nearly brushed Elena’s forehead.
"See? Taking the bus isn't as bad as you imagined, is it, Darling?" Elijah whispered, his baritone voice drowning in the engine noise but sounding incredibly real in Elena’s ear.
Elena could only catch her breath, which was becoming irregular. "It’s noisy, Elijah. And everyone is looking at us."
"Let them," Elijah replied nonchalantly, his eyes sweeping across the bus with a sharp gaze that unconsciously made the people around them turn away, feeling intimidated without knowing why. "They’re just jealous because I have the most beautiful woman on this bus."
Elena wanted to retort, but she instead felt safe within the cage of Elijah’s arms. She didn't realize that behind the New York traffic, Elijah was controlling everything—even the very bus they were riding was technically under his observation.