Chapter 27 Befriend With His Ghost
Chapter 27 Befriend With His Ghost
Elodie returned to her room, waiting for Noah, who still hadn’t come back—even just to check on her.
Noah had vanished after they arrived at the place. Elodie knew nothing about Maison Ze, or what kind of place it really was, and with Noah’s absence—even for a short while—the mansion felt like a foreign palace, one that concealed danger behind its solid walls and luxurious design.
She had escaped the danger named Darius Marcellan thanks to Edgar, but if Noah didn’t return within the next twenty-four hours, Elodie had no idea what she was supposed to do here. After all, Noah had never hesitated to leave her when his work demanded it—that was part of their agreement.
And Elodie had no right to ask him why, how, or when.
“Miss Easton?”
Edgar appeared with two female maids behind him, reminding her faintly of Izzy and Gwen.
“How are you feeling? Are you any better?”
“You ask as if I were your master’s guest, Edgar. You’ve treated me very well.” When Edgar stopped in front of her, Elodie met his eyes more openly. “Thank you for saving me from the man earlier.”
“You are the Consigliere’s guest. I will treat you as well as I can, according to his order. And wveryone in Sanz Egale understands Young Master's nature, and I already suspected that he would come looking for you the moment he found out Consigliere had brought you to Maison Ze.”
Edgar didn’t say much more. A single calm glance from him was enough for the two women behind him to move. They brought comfortable clothes—nightgowns and a bathrobe for Elodie—and headed into the bathroom to prepare the water. As they did, Elodie suddenly remembered something.
“Did Noah bring any of my belongings with him?” she asked softly, a little hesitant. “Like the shopping bags…”
“I placed them in that wardrobe. You can check them there and tell me if you need anything.”
Elodie felt slightly embarrassed, remembering the lingerie she had bought, but Edgar didn’t ask anything, nor did he look judgmental. He was come for a pure professionalism.
“You don’t need to worry about the Don’s call for you. He isn’t in the mansion right now—I only used that to get you out of the room.”
Edgar explained, while Elodie remained standing, pacing awkwardly, too restless to sit.
“Your dinner will be delivered shortly, and you don’t need to worry about the Young Master. He won’t come near your room, and I’ll make sure you’re safe until the Consigliere returns.”
“When will he come back?” Elodie asked, like a reflex after Edgar mentioned about his return.
Edgar tilted his head slightly—polite, subtle. A faint smile, but no real answer. Instead, a question in return, as if asking whether it was wrong for her to ask about that.
“No one knows. I believe the Consigliere has already told you… not to seek certainty from him—or people like him.”
Elodie fell silent. Edgar’s words cut her like a small blade. Not because of what he said, but because of the realization that Noah hadn’t said that only to her—everyone knew about the Consigliere’s unspoken rules. This world's unspoken rule.
“I apologize for my words, Miss, but you truly don’t need to worry about anything while you’re here—even without the Consigliere. The only thing you need to do for him is stay here and do as he wishes. I believe you already know what he wants for you to do, now.”
Yes—what she had to do was stay quiet and remain obedient, without asking too many questions. So when Edgar left, Elodie stayed where she was, no longer demanding anything. It felt like going back to the very beginning of her time in Noah’s house.
A small commotion broke out in the vast courtyard of Maison Ze. It was caused by the arrival of a young man who walked in and startled the bodyguards, yet stood there with complete confidence, showing no fear at all—simply because he was wearing the same black coat Noah had worn the day before.
That black leather coat, so unmistakably Noah’s, was what pulled Elodie out of her room and made her run toward the man—only to stop short when she saw Darius smiling back at her.
Darius stood in front of James, blocking his way, chin lifted high. James, however, didn’t seem intimidated by the difference in their height. He had beaten men nearly twice his size before.
“You came on Noah’s orders? But do you even know where you’re standing right now, little boy?”
“Sanz Egale territory. And I came on a direct order from the Consigliere.” James put down his weapons—just a handgun and a folding knife. “I’ll do my job properly. It won’t take long, I promise—I hope.”
Darius stopped James and shoved him back when the young man tried to pass.
“You think I’ll let you through that easily… The Huns’ Redbull?”
James stared at him—sharp, silent. The tension in his stillness was palpable, while Darius laughed, pleased that his words had struck something inside him.
“You can tell the whole world you’ve cut ties with your house, but blood is thicker than water, kid. You really think your crazy father would erase you? With your skills, I’m sure you’re still very useful in his eyes… you know, when it comes to that—who’s the most worthy.”
Elodie watched James, confused and stunned.
James was from a mafia house? He wasn’t just some nameless kid fighting in underground rings for money?
“No one knows you and Noah are planning something here, right?”
“I didn’t come for anything related to the rivalry between the two houses. You know that.” James brushed Darius’s hand off his shoulder—not roughly, just with a sharp look that said enough.
James walked past him anyway, and Darius followed, until James stopped in front of Elodie and struck at Darius’s pride with his words.
“I’m only here because the Consigliere ordered me to protect this girl from Darius.” He looked at Darius, and the way he did reminded him of every time Noah had humiliated him with nothing but a cold, piercing brown eyes.
“And you’re Darius, right?”