Bound by shadows

Chapter three

Don’t scream. And don’t look back.”

Lisa froze. The rain was already soaking through her thin black dress, the droplets rolling down her trembling arms, plastering strands of hair to her flushed face. Her heart hammered in her chest, an unsteady rhythm that made it almost impossible to think.

The voice was deep, commanding, and close enough that the heat of it brushed the shell of her ear despite the storm.

But something in her blood screamed danger.

“Why?” she managed, her voice breaking against the rain.

Tristan, though she didn’t yet know his name, tilted his head, his jaw sharp under the flickering light of the cemetery lanterns. His eyes glinted like a predator who had grown accustomed to the hunt.

“Because,” he said calmly, “there is a heat signature on you and if you move he will pull the trigger unless you want to die in my arms.”

Lisa’s pulse spiked. Every nerve in her body screamed to whip around, to confirm the truth. But the low, cold authority in the stranger’s tone glued her in place.

Tristan shifted closer, his broad frame shielding her from the open space. He smelled of rain, leather, and danger—an intoxicating combination she wanted no part of.

“On my count, you’ll take my hand,” he whispered. “And you’ll trust me.”

Lisa let out a shaky laugh despite her panic. “Trust you? You appear out of nowhere in a cemetery, and now there’s someone trying to kill me? This is insane.”

“Two,” he continued, ignoring her. His lips barely moved, his voice a dangerous hiss against her skin. “One.”

On zero, he grabbed her wrist and yanked it.

The bullet shattered the stone angel behind them. Dust and shards of marble sprayed across the gravesite. Lisa screamed despite herself, her heels skidding on the wet earth as Tristan dragged her behind a row of crooked crosses.

“Keep your head down,” he growled, pressing her flat against the ground as another gunshot cracked. His body shielded hers, heavy and unyielding. She felt the heat of him even through the rain-soaked fabric, his breath ragged against her ear.

“This is your idea of a meet-cute?” she snapped, the absurdity cutting through her terror.

Tristan’s mouth curled into something between a grin and a snarl. “Cute isn’t my style.”

Another shot rang out, closer this time. Lisa flinched, clutching at his arm. The muscles under her palm flexed, taut with lethal restraint.

Then silence.

Rain hammered the earth.

Tristan shifted just enough to peer over the gravestone, his soaked shirt was clinging to the hard lines of his body. Whoever had been shooting was gone.

For now.

—-

DE LUCA HOLDINGS

Samuel was on his way out of the building when Victoria stopped him. “Samuel!” Her voice echoed in the empty hallway. The sound of her heels alarmed everyone and everything around her of her presence.

She stopped right in front of him. “ I don't know what you think you are doing, or what plan you and Carlos must have put together before his death. "But, I will ask you this… if he was not able to stop me before, what on earth makes you think this little stunt of a will… will stop me now?” she said, every word sinking in, enough to make one's bones shake.

Victoria wasn't a woman to be messed with, but due to Samuel knowing her, he wasn't afraid. Because he knew something she didn't know. She opened her bag and reached for her cheque book, signed on it, tore it and flinged it at him.

“ That's an empty cheque, fill in any amount of number that you want and cash it… she took one more step towards him…But let this be the last time, I see you anywhere close to me, my company or Lisa… she closed in; whispering in his ear, I don't care what you do or how you do it… but make yourself disappear, or I will do it for you”.

She leaned out, putting some space in between them. Smiled at him before walking out of the building.

The cemetery

Lisa shoved at his chest. “Get off me!”

He didn’t move. His eyes bored into hers,dark, assessing, dangerous. “If I hadn’t been here, you’d be lying with a bullet in your chest.”

Her throat tightened. She hated that he was right.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing her damp temple as he whispered, “Don’t thank me. You don’t owe me gratitude,you owe me answers.”

“Thank you? Answers?” she shoved him away

“Yes.” His gaze lingered, sharp enough to strip her bare. “Why does someone want you dead, princess?”

Her lips parted, but before she could speak, headlights cut through the rain. The shooter’s car tore down the dirt path, tires skidding, before vanishing.

Tristan’s expression hardened. “It’s starting.”

Lisa didn’t understand, but a shiver ripped through her spine.

---

Victoria

Back at the mansion, Victoria was sipping wine like the world wasn’t unraveling.

She had delivered her carefully rehearsed lines to the press earlier,her black veil fluttering dramatically, her words painted with sorrow. She had not mentioned Lisa. She had not mentioned the will.

The vultures with cameras had eaten it up.

Now, she paced her suite, her manicured nails tapping the rim of her glass. Trish had been quiet,too quiet,but fear was a wonderful leash.

“Little fool,” Victoria muttered. “If Lisa learns the truth, everything collapses. Unless…”

Her reflection in the mirror smirked back at her.

“Unless Lisa never lived to claim it.” John; Victoria's bodyguard said, standing a few inches away from her.

She turned and looked him in the eyes, Not fear but shock gripped her. “What are you saying John? I should kill my own daughter…. Don't forget I still need her”

“Think about it Victoria… You or your daughter.. if you don't do it, killing Carlos would have been for nothing” John said with a sharp tone

The thought didn’t horrify her. In fact, it rolled through her like warm brandy. Yes, Lisa was her daughter… but in Victoria's world not even her blood can be used as her weakness.. it's her above everything…above her very own daughter.

She wouldn’t do the dirty work herself that would be vulgar. But accidents? Attacks by nameless men in ? Those could be arranged.

And if Lisa died?

Victoria would stand tall as the grieving mother, inheriting control without question.

She swirled the wine, her lips curving into a smile as red as blood.

---

The Preview

Carlos and Wilson

The room was dim, candles flickering against the walls of an old villa in Spain.

Carlos, very much alive or perhaps something beyond life sat across from Wilson. But Wilson was not the stranger in the cemetery. Wilson was Tristan when the world wasn’t watching.

And Carlos knew it.

“why are you still here?,” Carlos said, his voice low, thick with that eternal authority that made men obey.

Wilson smirked, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t answer to you.”

“You are supposed to be in England,” Carlos hissed. “My daughter’s life is not a game.”

Wilson’s grin was sharp, cruel. “She’s not a child and it's not yet time.”

Carlos slammed his hand against the table. “Careful.”

Two predators stared each other down, the silence between them thick with unspoken war.

“Time is moving,” Carlos finally said. “The pieces are aligning. You’ll play your role or burn.”

Wilson leaned forward, his face inches from Carlos’s. “I don’t burn.”

The candlelight flickered.

---

Back to Lisa and Tristan

shoving her wet hair from her face. “Who the hell are you?”. She was starting to have a panic attack… heart racing,hands shaking,counting her breath..”This can't be happening” she muttered under her breath.

Tristan’s eyes darkened. “The reason why you are still alive… and yes, that just happened”.

“Reason? I was fine moments before I bumped into you and now I almost got killed because of you!!”

He stepped closer, towering over her, his presence intoxicating and terrifying all at once. Rain slid down the hard lines of his jaw, dripping onto his collar.

Lisa’s breath caught when his fingers brushed her chin, tilting her face upward.

“You don't know when to shut up, do you? ,” he murmured, his voice low, dangerous, almost seductive.

Her lips parted, her heart racing too fast.

He leaned closer, his breath mingling with hers, his lips just grazing hers

When a bullet whizzed past them, so close it sliced

through the lock of Lisa’s hair.

Tristan pushed her aside; taking the hit, the bullet hitting his torso. She slammed her back against the gravestone.