It didn't take long before she was ushered into the house. It was her first time being here. She had been invited several times by Gerald to come by.
Even Aunt Kate had pressured her, but Elena had stood her ground and sworn never to step foot in this place.
It seemed fate had other plans.
The house was sturdy and large—probably built to accommodate his little thugs, but that was just about it.
The interior was terrible. Used plates and cups lay strewn across the floor, with no one willing to pick them up.
The air reeked of alcohol and decaying food.
A man was playing with a half-naked woman, his hands roaming freely over her body. The woman laughed, as if his drunken ramblings were amusing.
Elena paused to watch them for a second. Only one thought plagued her mind.
Why get drunk so early?
It wasn't even noon yet.
The lanky man led her up to the first floor.
The stairs creeked after each step. Spilled beer stained one of the wooden steps making it a darker shade than the rest or was it blood?
Elena didn't want to dwell on it.
The first floor was cleaner and more organized.
More men stood at strategic points, watching her closely.
Elena looked around. There was obviously dirty business going on here.
Gerald was a gangster. He was definitely involved in something shady.
Wooden boxes lay strewn around, tightly shut.
She stared at them intently. What could be inside those boxes? Her instincts prodded her forward, like a tiny push urging her to look closer.
A bulky man suddenly stepped in front of her, shielding her view. Her concentration broke.
This one was clearly harsher and meaner than the men on the ground floor.
"Mind your business," he growled.
Elena moved back, startled.
"Here you go, miss," the lanky man said, pointing at a large wooden door.
"Go in. He is waiting for you."
He smiled, revealing yellowed teeth.
Elena took a deep breath. Her hand tightened around the hem of her dress as she walked in.
Gerald sat on a chair, his legs crossed.
Smoke trailed lazily from the edge of his lips.
"Gerald."
"Elena," he replied, standing up.
He walked slowly around her, like a cat circling its prey.
"I knew you would come to see me," he said smoothly. "Go on, take a seat. Everything here can be yours—as long as you make the right choice today."
Elena took note of his right arm—it was healed.
But she could still see a faint strain when he used it.
That was evidence of a healer. An advanced one at that.
Being able to heal a broken arm within a day was incredible—and highly expensive.
It was also extremely rare to find a healer of such capability.
How did Gerald—a small-time thug from a small village—manage to get his hands on someone like that?
She took a seat, careful not to touch anything.
Gerald sat back down, his gaze never leaving hers for even a second.
"So tell me," he said, "why are you here?"
"I'm here to apologize for what happened at the tavern yesterday," Elena replied firmly, refusing to be intimidated. "I hope you'll let bygones be bygones."
"I see," Gerald said slowly. "Well, I'm not the forgiving type, Elena. You broke my arm. On a normal day, I would have to break yours in return so we'd be even."
Elena stood up at once, alert.
"Tsk. I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned calmly. "This is my territory. My men are stationed everywhere. You can't leave unless I permit you to."
Elena's eyes widened in shock.
Was this really the Gerald who frequented her aunt's tavern every night?
They didn't seem like the same person at all.
The man in front of her was confident—ruthless, even.
Either he had changed overnight, or he had been pretending all along.
She had always known he was a gangster, but this level of power was alarming. It wasn't easy to gather this many men.
Who exactly was Gerald?
"At least have the balls to tell your man hiding in the shadows to leave," Elena said coldly.
Gerald chuckled, his beard moving with the sound.
"I always knew you were a smart girl, Elena. Not just anyone would notice we aren't alone."
As his words faded, a man stepped out from a dark corner of the room. He wore an eye patch.
"Tell him to leave," Elena said.
"You don't give orders here," Gerald replied. "I do."
Elena smirked. "Are you scared I'll break your arm again?"
Gerald's eyes twitched. He tapped his fingers against the arm of the chair repeatedly.
Elena smiled at him sweetly.
"Leave," he ordered.
The man with the eye patch grunted and shot Elena a hard glare before exiting the room.
"Now that we're alone," Elena said, "we can speak comfortably. What do you want from me?"
"I want you to be mine, Elena," Gerald said. "Do this, and I promise you won't regret it—"
"I've told you already," Elena cut in impatiently. "Several times. I'm not interested in you. Don't you get that?"
"Now you owe me something," Gerald said darkly. "You broke my arm, and you're going to pay for it. If you don't do as I say, I'll ruin your entire life."
Elena stared at him. Fear curled in her chest, but her anger burned hotter.
"You can do as you wish, Gerald."
His eyes widened slightly. He hadn't expected that answer.
"You can have any girl in this village," Elena continued. "I'm just an ordinary girl. No different from any of them."
"That's where you're wrong," Gerald interrupted.
"How about this," he said casually. "You either pay me twenty shekels of silver, or you spend the night with me. Then we'll be even."
"You bastard," Elena growled.
A nearby bowl trembled, then fell from a table and shattered into tiny pieces.
Gerald laughed. "If you don't come willingly, I'll just have to take you by force—"
He didn't finish his sentence.
Screams from outside cut him off.
"What is going on out there?" he barked.
Just then, the man with the eye patch stormed back into the room.
"We're under attack, sir," he said urgently. "And I think this little vixen is behind it."
***
A/N
Follow me on Instagram @moo_nlitquill