Chapter 47
"The family elders were thrilled to hear about your engagement," Richard began, his voice oozing with a practiced, avuncular warmth. "They're eager to meet your fiancée. They'd like to host a small family dinner, the day after tomorrow. What do you think? Will that work for Ms. Windsor's schedule?"
The Smith family elders. Those leeches clinging to the highest branches of the family tree, their influence was still potent.
Since taking over, Jacob's relationship with these traditionalist factions had been delicate—a careful dance of cooperation and containment.
Their request to meet Elizabeth was twofold. It was a natural interest in the future matriarch of the family, but it was also a test. A probe to see what kind of woman was about to marry into the heart of the Smith empire.
Jacob walked to the bar cart and poured himself a whiskey. He took a sip, the cool liquid sliding down his throat, the burn of the alcohol doing little to chase away the bone-deep exhaustion.
"Fine," he said without hesitation.
It was time for Elizabeth to meet them anyway. It would solidify her position, give him a chance to see how she handled herself in that viper's nest, and serve as a clear message to the old guard to know their place.
"Have Tina arrange the time and place," he added.
Seeing him agree so readily, the smile on Richard's face widened. "Excellent. I'll let them know right away; they'll be overjoyed. And about Ms. Windsor…"
"She'll be there," Jacob cut him off, his tone absolute.
In his world, Elizabeth didn't have the option to refuse.
"Wonderful," Richard nodded repeatedly. He then glanced around, feigning casual curiosity. "Speaking of which, I don't see Ms. Windsor. Where is she?"
The hand holding the glass paused, an almost imperceptible hesitation. He'd noticed it too. Why was that woman always wandering off?
He lifted his gaze to Tina, who had been standing silently at the entrance to the living room.
Meeting his eyes, Tina stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Mr. Smith, Ms. Windsor went out this afternoon."
"Where?" Jacob asked, his voice devoid of emotion.
Tina kept her head lowered. "Ms. Windsor accepted an invitation from Ms. Moretti for an afternoon tea at the Moretti estate. She left about an hour ago."
"The Morettis?" Richard was the first to react, his voice a symphony of faux shock and disapproval. "Lilith's tea party? Jacob, why would you let Ms. Windsor go to a place like that? You know Lilith's temper, and the Morettis haven't they been a bit difficult with us lately?"
He left the sentence hanging, but the implication was clear.
Everyone knew about Lilith's obsession with Jacob. Elizabeth, walking in there, was like a lamb walking into a lion's den.
Jacob's fingers tightened around his glass, condensation sliding over his knuckles. His expression remained a mask of indifference, but a cold, dangerous current flickered in the depths of his eyes.
Lilith Moretti.
He'd just gotten intel yesterday that she was planning something against Elizabeth. He had even gone out of his way to warn Elizabeth about it, and now she'd just walked right into the trap herself?
Was she that bold, or did she have her own agenda?
Ignoring Richard's theatrics, he downed the rest of the whiskey in one go, setting the empty glass on the table with a sharp clink.
"Get the car," he commanded Leon, his voice calm, but carrying the oppressive weight of a gathering storm. "We're going to the Moretti estate."
Of course, Elizabeth had no idea Jacob would be coming back. She had left on schedule, the car gliding away from the bustling city and into the sprawling private lands of the suburbs.
Finally, the silhouette of an ancient, Gothic-style castle emerged from behind a veil of trees.
It was constructed from massive, dark grey stones, with soaring spires and long, narrow windows. Many of the panes were stained glass, but the designs were grotesque and twisted, casting an eerie glow in the afternoon light.
The Morettis were, without a doubt, one of the oldest mafia families. This castle alone had enough atmospheric dread to intimidate anyone.
After her identity was announced, the heavy main gate creaked open with an ear-splitting groan.
However, when Elizabeth's driver attempted to pull the car through, two guards in black uniforms blocked their path.
"Apologies. Only the invited guest, Ms. Windsor, may enter. The vehicle and all personnel will wait outside," one of the guards stated, his voice as cold as the stone beneath his feet.
The Smith family bodyguard in the passenger seat shot Elizabeth a displeased look.
Elizabeth, however, remained perfectly calm. She had anticipated this. If Lilith had the guts to invite her, she would have prepared a few welcoming party tricks.
"Wait for me here," she instructed the driver and bodyguard, pushing open her door and stepping out alone.
The sharp click of her heels on the uneven cobblestones echoed in the unnerving silence. Each sound was piercingly loud.
The two guards stood motionless behind the gate, their cold eyes tracking her as she walked into the castle's outer courtyard.
A maid was already waiting. Her face was caked in so much makeup that it looked like a porcelain mask. She saw Elizabeth, gave a slight bow, and then turned, leading her with silent steps into the depths of the castle.
The interior was even more grim and foreboding than the exterior.
The walls were adorned with taxidermy hunting trophies, their hollow eye sockets seeming to follow any visitor. The corridors were winding and labyrinthine, shrouded in dim light. Even in the age of electricity, this ancient fortress still relied on wall sconces for illumination.
As they walked, she would occasionally spot other Moretti servants in the shadows or through half-opened doors. They all had the same pale complexions and strange, unnerving gazes, staring at Elizabeth as if she were prey about to step into a snare.
If Lilith thought this level of intimidation would be enough to frighten her, she had seriously underestimated her.
The castle was so vast that Elizabeth was starting to grow impatient.
Gradually, a sound reached her.
It was faint at first, as if coming from far away or muffled by thick walls.
A scream.
A human scream, short and sharp, filled with pain and despair.
It was followed by the frantic, menacing barking of dogs.
Elizabeth's pace didn't falter, but every muscle in her body tensed. Her hand, seemingly hanging casually at her side, brushed against the cold steel of the ladies' pistol Jacob had given her, concealed in a sleeve pocket. She was on high alert for any vicious dog that might lunge from a dark corner. Lilith might not dare to harm her openly, but if one of her "pets" got out of control and injured her, she could easily play it off as an unfortunate accident.
The maid leading the way acted as if she heard nothing, her mask-like face impassive as she continued forward.
They rounded a corner, and suddenly the frantic sound of hurried footsteps echoed ahead, accompanied by ragged, agonized gasps for breath.