Chapter 36: Side Character x Mafia Boss (36)

Is... Lyra really in good shape? Elena asked herself, her voice trembling in a faint whisper. If so... if she is truly fine and has Alastair’s ear... why didn’t she help me out? Why am I still rot in this dark, freezing hole while she eats sweet dishes upstairs?

Because she only wants the luxury for herself, a dark, insidious voice whispered deep inside her mind. She forgot about you the moment she tasted power and comfort. She chose him over you.

"No..." Elena gasped, shaking her head frantically as hot tears spilled over her pale, dirty cheeks. "No! I am just overthinking because I am starving! My mind is playing tricks on me..."

She clutched her head, her nails digging into her messy hair as she curled tighter into a ball on the cold floor.

"She wouldn’t do that to me..." Elena sobbed softly into the dark, her voice cracking with pure desperation. "She... she won’t betray me... right...?"

Outside the iron cell, the two housemaids who had been gossiping exchanged a quick glance.

Neither of them were regular servants. They were Gabriel Hart’s secondary sleeper agents. A sinister smile crossed their faces as they heard Elena’s soft sobs through the small window of the cell door.

The work was done. The seed of suspicion had been successfully planted inside Elena’s fragile, breaking heart. Soon, it would grow like a wild fire, consuming her sanity and destroying everything in its path.

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Meanwhile, up in the lavish warmth of the master suite...

Alastair had not let go of Lyra for a single second since he brought her back to the bed.

He sat propped up against the massive carved headboard, holding her delicate body securely in his lap. When the kitchen staff brought up a tray of warm chicken soup, sweet rice cakes, and fresh fruit, Alastair refused to let her lift a utensil herself. With infinite patience and an intense focus, he gently fed her spoonful by spoonful until she was completely full.

Lyra, who had spent the last several hours acting, scheming, and disarming an operative with a butter knife, quickly grew exhausted. Her heavy eyelids fluttered shut, her small head dropping against Alastair’s broad chest as her breathing turned slow and deep.

Only when he was completely sure she was fast asleep did Alastair finally release his tight grip. With extreme care, as if she were made of fragile glass, he laid her down on the pillows and pulled the duvet over her shoulders.

A quiet female maid, one of his trusted personal guards, stepped forward from the corner of the room, looking down at the unclasped steel chain lying on the carpet.

"Boss... should I redo the chain?" the maid asked in a low whisper, holding up the iron lock.

Alastair stood up, his dark grey eyes lingering on Lyra’s peaceful, sleeping face. He thought about how she hadn’t tried to escape when the door was open, and how she had stayed right here on the sofa waiting for him. He also remembered with a cold flash of fury that if the assassin had attacked while she was locked to the bed, that very chain would have trapped her and gotten her killed.

It was better to let her roam freely within his sights.

"No need," Alastair said coldly, his raspy voice absolute. "Take the chain away."

The maid bowed respectfully. "Yes, Boss."

Alastair adjusted his suit and quietly stepped out of the master suite, locking the double doors from the outside before making his way down into the subterranean levels of the estate.

He arrived at the cold holding room where the body of Gabriel’s dead operative lay on an iron table.

Alastair’s eyes turned into pools of absolute, terrifying ice. "Filthy," he muttered with pure disgust, glancing down at the tattoo etched into the dead woman’s wrist.

Two of his top security stepped up to him, bowing low. "Boss... we swept her communications log before her device self-destructed. There seem to be more of Gabriel’s pawns hidden here inside the mansion."

Alastair’s jaw clenched, a cold aura radiating from his body.

"Find them," Alastair ordered, his voice lowering. "Find every single one of them... and bring them to me."

"Understood, Boss!" the men answered in unison.

As Alastair turned to walk toward his private office, his path took him past the lower cell block where Elena was being held.

He stopped right in front of the iron bars, his dark grey eyes staring indifferently through the small window at the disheveled girl sitting in the dirt.

A sharp twist of jealousy tightened deep within his chest.

What was so special about this girl? Alastair thought, his mind flashing back to how Lyra had constantly pleaded for Elena’s safety, how Lyra had risked everything just to keep her out of harm’s way. Why does Lyra care so much about her? Why can’t my little mouse look at me with that same level of devotion? Why can’t she love me more?

Inside the freezing cell, Elena heard the heavy boots stop outside her door. She slowly raised her dirty face, her wide, swollen eyes meeting the icy, pitch-black gaze of the mafia boss.

Seeing the detachment and possessive arrogance in his dark eyes, a bitter, broken sneer formed on Elena’s pale lips. She didn’t cry out, nor did she ask for mercy. She simply glared back at him with pure hatred, her heart hardening into solid ice.

Alastair didn’t say a single word. He turned and left, his dark coat sweeping behind him as his heavy footsteps vanished down the quiet stone corridor, leaving the seeds of ruin to bloom in the dark.

Alastair didn’t go back into the master suite right away. He stood outside the high double doors for a quiet moment, looking through the clear glass panel at the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

Inside, Lyra was lying under the plush duvet, her face turned sideways into the pillow, her dark lashes resting motionless against her cheeks. She looked so small, so peaceful, and so entirely helpless in her sleep that the dark, suffocating storm inside his chest settled into a quiet, possessive warmth.

He didn’t want to wake her. He adjusted his suit , and walked past her room toward his private study to oversee the security sweep himself.

The moment the sound of Alastair’s boots completely faded down the hallway, the "peacefully sleeping" girl on the bed threw off the duvet and sat straight up like a spring!

Lyra whipped her head toward the locked double doors, her eyes sharp, wide awake, and completely devoid of any tiredness.

"System!" Lyra whispered urgently into the quiet room, swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress. "Is he gone?! Is the perimeter outside this hallway clear?!"

Ding!

A bright, glowing blue interface popped up right in front of her face, flashing several urgent red warning symbols across her vision.

[ MAIN PLOT ALERT: ACT III - THE FINAL SACRIFICE ]

[ HOST! YOU WOKE UP JUST IN TIME! ] the System announced, its digital voice ringing with a high-stakes, frantic energy. [ Alastair’s main patrol just pulled forty percent of the estate’s guards down to the lower courtyard for a full interrogation sweep! Gabriel Hart’s secondary strike team is going to launch a full-scale night raid on the mansion in less than one hour! ]

Lyra’s breath caught in her throat. She stood up, stretching her arms and cracking her knuckles as her chaotic mind began assembling the timeline. "So Alastair is going to be completely occupied on the front lines dealing with Gabriel’s main force?"

[ Exactly, Host! ] the System confirmed, pulling up a glowing red countdown clock above her head. [ This is the absolute climax of the original novel arc! According to the original storyline, you have two core objectives that must be executed tonight: ]

Save the Female Lead (Elena) from the subterranean dungeon.

Take the fatal blow intended for the Male Lead (Alastair) and get ’killed’ to trigger his ultimate heartbreak awakening.

Lyra stared at the second bullet point, her heart doing a nervous flip.

"This is it..." Lyra whispered softly, her small fingers clutching the fabric of her dress. "This is my absolute last mission in this world. If I fail to execute this plot point correctly, the world logic will collapse, and I’ll be permanently erased. I have to finish it, or I will be finished."

[ Don’t worry, Host! ] the System chimed in encouragingly, hovering near her shoulder. [ The System Death-Protection Shield will activate the exact microsecond the strike hits your vitals! You won’t feel any actual pain, and your soul will be safely extracted back to the white void space while your character body triggers Alastair’s permanent grief arc! ]

"Good," Lyra said, taking a deep, steadying breath to calm her racing heart. "Because I did not survive locked rooms, yandere cuddles, and butter-knife assassinations just to fail at the finish line! Let’s get to work!"

Without wasting another second, Lyra sprinted over to the servant’s entrance on the far side of the master suite. Using the master key card she had snuck off the unconscious operative earlier, she swiped the electronic sensor.

Beep.

The service door unlocked with a quiet click. Lyra slipped out into the dim service stairwel, making her way straight down toward the freezing subterranean level.

Meanwhile, thirty floors above ground, the night sky over the estate was suddenly torn apart by the sound of echoing gunfire.

"ENEMY ATTACK! WEST GATE IS BREACHED!" security alarms blared across the entire estate, red warning lights flashing along every corridor.

Out in the central courtyard, Alastair stood in the middle of the rain, his dark hair soaked, his eyes glowing with deadly light. He fired his pistol, dropping two Hart Syndicate mercenaries who had tried to charge the main glass doors.

"Hold the gate!" Alastair roared, his raspy voice cutting through the sound of rain. "Do not let a single rat reach the main house!"