Chapter 75: Morgan's Cunning
Elena smiled bitterly to herself, feeling foolish for having even thought that Elijah might be blood-related to the immensely noble and terrifying Blackwood clan. Her Elijah was just a casual man who loved plaid flannel shirts and happened to have a genius brain in technology.
When they set foot on the second floor, Elena's reverie was once again shattered by the magnificence presented before her.
The second floor was specially designed as a private showroom for VVIP clients. In the center of the room, there was a curved charcoal-gray velvet sofa facing a large glass wall that offered a direct view of the SoHo streets beginning to be covered in night snow.
In the corner of the room, a giant steel vault with biometric fingerprint and retina scanner locking systems stood very solidly.
"That vault is directly connected to Apex Sovereign's central security system," Elijah said while leaning against the small bar counter in the corner of the room, watching Elena walk toward the vault with sparkling eyes.
"Only your fingerprint and mine can open it. You can store all your raw gemstones and valuable design drafts there without worrying about industrial spies stealing them."
Elena touched the cold steel surface of the vault with overwhelming emotion.
Half a year ago, she was a discarded wife, her dignity trampled by Morgan Valdez, forced to work under the selfish pressure of Valora Gems' board of directors. But now, under the protection of the man she had initially hired as a paid escort, she had her own kingdom.
"Elijah..." Elena turned around, looking at her husband with a gaze full of love and dependence that increasingly locked their fate together. "I don't know how to repay all of this to your client. Or to you."
Elijah stepped forward, closing the distance between them until Elena could once again feel the warmth of the man's tall body.
He raised his right hand, tucking a few strands of Elena's loose hair behind her ear with a very gentle and possessive movement.
"You don't need to repay anything to my client, Elena," Elijah said with the drowning intensity of his sapphire blue eyes.
"And for me... you only need to stay within my embrace. Never step outside the safe perimeter I have built for you, no matter what storms try to knock on this studio's door."
Elena nodded obediently, burying herself once again in Elijah's warm embrace, letting the scent of sandalwood calm all her anxieties about the future.
Meanwhile, in a dark corner across the street from the SoHo townhouse building, a black sedan with very dark tinted windows was parked silently under the dim streetlights.
Inside the car, a hawk-eyed man in a gray suit was holding a long-lens camera, aiming a few shots toward the second-floor glass window where Elena and Elijah stood.
The man lowered his camera, then pressed a button on his encrypted digital device. The call connected directly across the ocean, piercing the thick night of London.
"Mr. Morgan," the spy said in a low voice.
"The report from New York is ready. Miss Elena Vance did not return to The Azure apartment this afternoon. She was just taken by the flannel man to a new townhouse in the elite SoHo district. That place was just registered with the New York Department of Commerce under the name Elena Vance Atelier."
Inside the silent Mayfair office, Morgan Valdez, sitting in his grand chair, immediately gripped his satellite phone until his knuckles turned white.
His nose still felt slightly sore—a psychological effect from the shadow of the Blackwood clan bodyguard's punch he had seen through his men's video report a few hours ago.
"An independent studio?!" Morgan hissed, his voice trembling greatly between disbelief, burning vengeance, and increasingly maddening greed.
"Where did that damn gigolo get the funds to build a studio in SoHo?! Is Uncle Silas truly certain that the silver-masked man is Elijah Blackwood?!"
"We have not been able to legally confirm that man's true identity, sir," the spy answered cautiously.
"The cyber security system around that SoHo building is very tight. Every time we try to hack the building's ownership manifest, Apex Sovereign's defense system immediately blocks and traces our signal back. The flannel man operates very skillfully as a high-level IT technician."
Morgan narrowed his eyes with thick, cunning calculation. He glanced at the digital calendar on his desk.
The remaining two and a half years until Elena's thirtieth birthday felt like an agonizingly slow torture to him. However, remembering the threat of dissolving all his port assets by the Blackwood clan if he dared to physically touch Elena at this time, Morgan was forced to hold back his fangs.
"Let them play their poor domestic drama in SoHo for now," Morgan whispered with his most disgusting parasitic smile.
"Elijah Blackwood or not... that man is clearly using Elena as a toy to satisfy his lust. I will stay in London and gather the remaining strength of my financial power in Northern Europe."
"In two and a half more years, when Grandfather Maximillian's inheritance is released, I myself will return to New York with the best international lawyers to drag Elena back to my feet. And when that time comes... I will ensure their entire charade turns into a mass funeral for the reputation of whoever is protecting her."
The phone call ended. Morgan Valdez turned back to stare at the European rain from behind his window, letting his greed and wounded pride burn away whatever humanity remained inside him.
...
Elijah had just received a subtle vibration on his encrypted smartwatch—a private cyber notification from Marcus reporting that Morgan Valdez's hackers had just tried to infiltrate Elena Vance Atelier's network but had been destroyed within three seconds.
A very cruel and deadly predator's grin faintly etched itself onto Elijah's handsome face, ready to destroy anyone who dared to step into the perimeter of his little paradise. His true identity as the highest Blackwood dragon remained safe, tightly locked behind the fog of cyber manipulation he controlled absolutely.
He glanced at Elena, who was now engrossed in arranging some sketch papers on her new work desk, a smile never leaving her lips.
"Elijah," Elena called without turning around, her fingers moving nimbly, sketching with a pencil on paper. "Tomorrow is the first day this studio is passively open. Who do you think will be our first client?"
Elijah walked closer, leaning against the edge of the work desk with his extremely charming casual style, gazing at his wife's jewelry sketch draft with a look full of possessive claim.
"Whoever your first client is tomorrow, Ángel... I can guarantee that they will have to pay a very high price just to knock on the front door of my kingdom."