Chapter Four : The Line Between Hate And Survival

Chapter Four: The Thin Line Between Hate and Survival

Elena’s POV

The walls of the DeLuca mansion felt colder after Bianca’s outburst. It wasn’t just the thick stone or the air of tension that clung to every hallway—it was the realization that I had stepped into a life that was never meant for me. And no one, not Lorenzo, not Bianca, not even the servants, would let me forget that.

But I wouldn’t break.

I sat alone in the dimly lit study, staring at the unlit fireplace. My fingers traced the edge of the teacup the maid had placed in front of me. It had gone cold, untouched.

Bianca’s words still rang in my ears.

“You ruined everything.”

“You don’t belong here.”

I didn’t, did I?

A soft knock at the door snapped me from my thoughts. Before I could answer, the heavy oak door creaked open, and Lorenzo stepped inside.

I stiffened.

He hadn’t spoken to me since breakfast.

His presence filled the room like a storm cloud, dark and brooding. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it, arms crossed over his chest. His sleeves were still rolled up, revealing the veins in his forearms. I hated that I noticed.

“Are you enjoying your new home?” His voice was void of warmth, but something about the way he said it made my skin prickle.

I scoffed, meeting his gaze. “Am I supposed to?”

His lips curved into a humorless smirk. “No. But you’re handling it better than I expected.”

I swallowed, my hands clenching into fists on my lap. “What did you expect? For me to beg?”

Lorenzo pushed off the door, taking slow, measured steps toward me. “Most women in your position would have.”

“I’m not most women.”

He stopped just in front of me, staring down with those piercing, unreadable eyes. “No,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly. “You’re not.”

There was something unsettling about the way he said it, like he was trying to figure me out—like he wasn’t sure whether to be intrigued or irritated.

I broke the stare first, looking down at my lap. “If you’re here to tell me I don’t belong, don’t bother. Bianca already did.”

His expression darkened. “Bianca doesn’t speak for me.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Does she know that?”

Lorenzo’s jaw tightened. “Bianca is in the past. She needs to understand that.”

I raised an eyebrow. “She doesn’t seem to think so.”

Something flashed in his eyes, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he turned away, running a hand through his dark hair.

Silence stretched between us.

I watched him carefully. Lorenzo DeLuca was a man who had built walls thicker than the ones surrounding this mansion, and for a moment, I saw the cracks.

Then, just as quickly, they disappeared.

“You need to be careful,” he finally said, his voice quieter now.

I frowned. “Careful?”

Lorenzo turned back to face me, his gaze sharper, more intense. “Bianca isn’t the only one who isn’t happy about this marriage. You’ve made enemies by stepping into this house.”

A chill ran down my spine. “I didn’t step into this house. I was thrown into it.”

His expression didn’t change. “Doesn’t matter. You’re here now, and that makes you a target.”

I swallowed. “Are you threatening me?”

Lorenzo’s eyes darkened. “No. But others will.”

My fingers tightened around the fabric of my dress. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I don’t need another problem on my hands.” His tone was sharp, but there was something else beneath it—something almost reluctant. “And because I don’t particularly enjoy cleaning up corpses.”

My breath caught in my throat.

Was that a warning? Or a promise?

Before I could respond, the door burst open.

One of Lorenzo’s men rushed inside, his face pale. “Boss, we have a problem.”

Lorenzo turned to him, his body immediately tensing. “What is it?”

The man hesitated, his eyes flicking toward me.

“Say it,” Lorenzo ordered, his voice like steel.

The man exhaled sharply. “Someone left a message. For her.”

The air in the room thickened.

My pulse quickened as I stood. “What message?”

The man hesitated again, but this time, it was Lorenzo who spoke.

“Where?”

“In the courtyard.”

Lorenzo was already moving. I had no choice but to follow.

A Warning Written in Blood

The moment I stepped outside, the cold morning air bit at my skin. But that wasn’t what made me freeze in place.

It was the sight in front of me.

In the center of the courtyard, hanging from the iron gates, was a white dress.

A wedding dress.

And splattered across the fabric, in deep, crimson red, were the words:

“A bride shouldn’t outlive her groom.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. My breath hitched.

My hands trembled at my sides, but I forced myself to stay still. I wouldn’t show fear.

Lorenzo stepped forward, his entire body radiating fury. His fingers twitched at his side, as if resisting the urge to punch something.

“Who the hell did this?” he barked.

The guards around us shifted uneasily.

“No one got past the gates,” one of them stammered. “It had to be someone on the inside.”

Lorenzo’s face darkened. “Find them. Now.”

The men scattered, leaving the two of us standing in front of the gruesome message.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. “So… do you still think I’m not a problem?”

Lorenzo’s head snapped toward me, his jaw clenched. “This isn’t a joke, Elena.”

I lifted my chin. “I never said it was.”

He stared at me, his eyes scanning my face. Whatever he saw there made him curse under his breath.

Then, before I could react, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the mansion.

“Hey—”

“Enough,” he growled. “You’re not going anywhere alone from now on.”

I yanked my arm away. “So I’m a prisoner and a guarded one?”

He turned on me, eyes flashing. “Do you have any idea what would’ve happened if you had walked out here alone and they had been waiting for you?”

I glared back. “Maybe if I wasn’t forced into this marriage, I wouldn’t have a target on my back.”

Lorenzo exhaled sharply, his hands running through his hair. “Damn it, Elena.” He stepped closer, his voice lowering. “You’re in my world now. Whether you like it or not.”

I swallowed, my heart hammering.

He was too close. His presence was suffocating.

For a moment, I thought I saw something in his eyes—something that almost looked like concern.

Then, just as quickly, it was gone.

Lorenzo took a step back. “From now on, you don’t go anywhere without me or my men. If someone wants to kill my wife, they’re going to have to go through me first.”

His words should have comforted me.

But they didn’t.

Because, for the first time since stepping into this house, I realized something terrifying.

I wasn’t just a pawn in this game.

I was bait.