Chapter 91 Mysterious Message
Chapter 91 Mysterious Message
As soon as the teak door closed tightly, the studio's atmosphere fell back into silence. Elena immediately spun her slender body around, and without wasting a single second, she ran and threw herself into Elijah's strong arms, which were already wide open to welcome her.
Elena wrapped both her slender arms around Elijah's strong neck, burying her flushed beautiful face in the man's broad chest, gently clutching his red plaid flannel fabric with all her remaining strength.
The love and dependence that increasingly locked their fate together overflowed completely in her contract lover's protective embrace.
"Elijah! We did it!" Elena exclaimed sincerely, her voice trembling with happiness.
"The Blackwood clan has become our official protector! You don't need to work late nights for your Wall Street client anymore, and Morgan Valdez will never be able to drag us to international court again! I... I can protect you now, Elijah!"
Elijah tightened his embrace around Elena's slender waist, lifting the woman slightly until her feet dangled in the air, possessively uniting all their body heat.
A very sexy, cruel, and deadly predator's grin beautifully etched itself onto his marble-hard handsome face as he stared out the studio's glass window covered in thin snow.
Behind Elena's back, Elijah's right hand moved slowly, touching the encryption button on his encrypted smartwatch to read the latest private cyber notification from Marcus.
\[Young Master, with the public announcement of the Blackwood clan's official protection over the SoHo studio this afternoon, the remaining lawyers of Morgan Valdez in London have just reported that Mr. Valdez suffered severe shock and was rushed to the hospital due to total mass bankruptcy. The New York perimeter is one hundred percent sterile under your dictatorial power.\]
"Yes, my Ángel," Elijah whispered, his low, deep baritone voice flowing so sexily yet laden with absolute ownership claims near Elena's ear.
He bent down, silencing Elena's full lips in a deep, demanding, passionate kiss that instantly paralyzed all the woman's remaining logic in the middle of the magnificent golden cage he had so neatly built.
"You have protected me very well, my Employer. And as long as you are in my embrace, I will ensure that all of New York remains kneeling at your feet."
The Blackwood clan's financial protection strategy was publicly announced, while Morgan Valdez in London had been destroyed to the root of his sanity, never able to penetrate Elijah's cyber defenses!
The kiss in the silence of the second-floor showroom felt so intoxicating, stealing all the remaining air from Elena's lungs.
Every nip and breath Elijah gave was a form of absolute claim—an invisible affirmation that the woman in his embrace could never escape his grip again.
Elena clutched the shoulders of Elijah's red plaid flannel shirt, immersing herself completely in the warmth of sandalwood and espresso coffee scents, which had now become her soul's only protector.
When Elijah finally slowly pulled his lips away, he did not immediately pull back. His long thumb crept gently, wiping the remaining moisture from the corner of Elena's lips, now swollen and sensually red from his demanding kiss.
"You are truly extraordinary, Ángel," Elijah whispered, his low, husky, sexy baritone voice vibrating right in front of Elena's face, sending instant waves of fluttering that melted the remaining tension in the woman.
"Who would have guessed that my little designer had such courage to pressure the main Blackwood empress just to protect her poor IT assistant?"
Elena looked up, squinting her brown eyes with the remaining blush still spreading perfectly to her neck. She lightly hit Elijah's marble-hard broad chest, though the hit did not make her contract lover's tall body shift a single millimeter.
"Don't tease me, Elijah!" Elena snapped, trying to hide her embarrassment behind a deliberately firm tone.
"I'm serious. For this past year, I've always felt guilty because you had to risk your position and take dangerous cyber overtime from your Wall Street client to fund my dreams."
"Now, with the official protection contract from the Blackwood clan, our position in Manhattan is legal and safe. You... you don't need to live in fear of Morgan Valdez's spy network anymore."
Elijah suppressed the low laugh that nearly burst from his chest. Elena's incredibly naive simple logic was truly saving his grand charade.
The highest Apex Sovereign dragon, who had just sent Morgan Valdez to a London hospital's ICU due to mass bankruptcy, was now being held tightly by a woman who thought she was protecting him from the outside world's dangers.
"I obey you, my Employer," Elijah said with his most charming lopsided grin, bending down again to kiss Elena's forehead with possessive tenderness.
"Starting today, I will only work under the laws and orders you issue in this studio."
Meanwhile, two weeks after the public announcement of the financial alliance between the main Blackwood clan and Elena Vance Atelier, great upheaval swept through Manhattan's upper class.
The studio's front door in the SoHo district, which was usually quiet and passive, now began to be flooded with hundreds of exclusive orders from VVIP socialites wanting access to fashion equal to Victoria Blackwood's.
However, amid the growing busyness, Elijah maintained his protective casual routine.
Every corner of the two-story building had been reinforced by third-layer military cyber defense systems, ensuring no gaps for the remnants of Uncle Silas's followers or the Valdez clan to creep in.
That afternoon, thin snow fell again, blanketing the SoHo sidewalks. Elena sat behind her work desk, checking several platinum delivery drafts for the final forging of "Memory's Crown."
Suddenly, her personal digital device vibrated softly, displaying a notification from an encrypted secret number.
Elena furrowed her brow, opening the message. Her beautiful face instantly tensed as she read a short line on the screen.
\[Elena Vance, if you want to know the secret of why Grandfather Maximillian locked your inheritance until the age of thirty, come alone to dock number four tonight at ten o'clock. Don't bring your flannel man if you don't want to see him dead.\]
Elena's grip on her digital pen tightened severely until her knuckles turned white.
Her breath came in ragged gasps as she held back waves of shock that instantly attacked her nerves.
Who sent this message?
Was this the remnants of a trap from London, or was there a new conspiracy creeping in New York?
And what did it mean about Grandfather's inheritance? Elena's thoughts raced continuously in her mind at that moment.