Episode three: Blood behind the Gold
794 Words
The club was louder than usual.
Not just in sound, but in energy. Something buzzed beneath the surface—an invisible shift that made even the regulars sit a little straighter and speak a little quieter. Waitresses moved faster. Security hovered closer.
And Elena felt it in her bones.
She was polishing glasses behind the bar, head down, doing her best to ignore the anxiety clawing at her chest. It had been three days since Damian Blackwood had spoken to her last, and yet she felt his presence every night, even when she couldn’t see him.
Especially when she couldn’t.
“New girl,” said a deep voice beside her.
She flinched, instinctively moving to the side.
It wasn’t Damian. It was a man she’d never seen before—tall, older, with greying hair slicked back, a thick scar slicing across his cheekbone. He wore a suit, but it was the kind of suit that came with blood on the cuffs.
“I’m talking to you,” he added, voice like gravel.
“I’m working,” she said without meeting his eyes.
He chuckled, but it didn’t sound amused. “Pretty and smart. That’s rare.”
Before she could respond, someone else stepped between them.
“You’re in the wrong section, Mikhail,” Damian said calmly.
Elena’s breath hitched. She hadn’t even seen him come in.
Mikhail’s smile thinned. “Just saying hello.”
“You’ve said enough.” Damian didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. His presence shifted the air in the room, made it colder.
Mikhail stared for a moment too long, then nodded once and walked away.
Elena turned to Damian. “Who was that?”
“A ghost,” he said simply. “You don’t want to know more than that.”
Her voice was low. “Should I be worried?”
“Yes.”
That one word struck harder than a scream.
He looked at her then—really looked. And for a moment, she saw something unexpected in his expression. Not warmth. Not concern. But warning.
“You have no idea what this place is, do you?” he asked.
“I know enough,” she replied.
“No,” he said. “You don’t.”
He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “There are men in this room who kill with their hands and then toast to it over champagne. There are names spoken here that never appear on paper. Every deal in this club is written in something more permanent than ink.”
She swallowed. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you’re standing too close to the fire,” he said. “And you don’t even know you’re burning.”
Then he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there with a hand still wrapped around an empty glass and a heart hammering against her ribs.
Later that night, Elena was on break, sitting outside near the back alley, just trying to breathe. The air was sharp, and she welcomed the cold against her skin.
She pulled out her phone. Two missed calls. Both from a number she didn’t recognise. No voicemails. No messages.
Her stomach tightened.
She’d changed her number when she moved here. Hidden her tracks. She was careful.
But clearly, not careful enough.
“You look like someone being followed,” came a voice behind her.
She jumped. It was Damian—again. He had a cigarette in his hand but hadn’t lit it.
“I’ve had worse,” she said, too tired to lie.
He studied her for a moment. “What are you running from?”
She hesitated. The truth tasted bitter in her mouth. “A man who thinks I belong to him.”
Damian’s face hardened. “Is he here in London?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did you take from him?”
Elena looked at him. “My freedom.”
He nodded, almost like he understood.
“I can protect you,” he said.
She laughed, dry and sharp. “And what would that cost me?”
“Everything,” he replied, without blinking.
At least he was honest.
They stood there in silence for a moment. Somewhere in the distance, a car backfired, and a dog barked. Normal sounds. Everyday sounds. But nothing about this felt normal anymore.
“I should get back inside,” she said.
Damian moved aside, but before she passed, he spoke again—so quietly she almost didn’t hear him.
“If that man ever comes for you,” he said, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t leave.”
She didn’t respond.
But deep down, something in her shifted.
Because she believed him.
And that terrified her more than anything.
- Writer
