Fragile To His Darkness

Chapter 2: His Estate

The estate was not a house. It was a fortress hidden in the hills.

Elara had never seen anything like it. High walls, black gates, men with guns standing everywhere. The Maybach passed three security checkpoints before it stopped in front of a massive modern mansion made of glass and dark stone.

Damon got out first, then opened her door himself. He did not touch her. He just looked at her thin sweater and said, "You will get cold in that."

"I am fine," Elara whispered. Her lungs were already burning from the cold night air. She started to cough, a small, painful cough she tried to hide.

Damon's jaw tightened. He removed his own expensive coat and placed it over her shoulders without asking. It was heavy and warm and smelled like him.

"Inside. Now," he ordered, but his voice was not cruel. It was worried.

Inside, the house was warm. Too warm, like he had ordered someone to raise the heat before they arrived.

An older woman appeared, maybe 60 years old, with kind eyes. "This is Maria, the housekeeper. She will take care of you," Damon said.Maria looked at Elara with motherly concern. "Oh, dear child, you are so pale. Have you eaten?"

Elara shook her head. She had not eaten since morning.

"Prepare food, soup, something light. And call Dr. Evans," Damon said to Maria. Then he looked at Elara. "You have been sick since you were 12, right? Twelve years old?"

Elara was surprised he remembered. "Yes. Chronic interstitial lung disease. My lungs are... damaged. I need medicine every day or I cannot breathe well.""I know. I read your medical file," Damon said casually.

"You read my medical file?"

"I own your debt. I own everything about you now. Including your sickness. I paid for your parents' loan, I will pay for your treatment. The best pulmonologist in the country will come here tomorrow."

Elara felt tears come. For eight years, no doctor had been able to help her properly because her family had no money. Now this mafia boss was offering her the best.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked. "You said I am your possession. But you are being... kind."

Damon walked closer. He was so tall. He lifted her chin gently with one finger, forcing her to look at him. His eyes were dark grey, like a storm.

"Because fragile things should not be broken, Elara. They should be kept safe in a place where no one can hurt them. This world is too cruel for a girl who coughs blood."

He dropped his hand. "Your room is upstairs. The entire third floor is yours. No one goes there except you and Maria. You will rest. You will take your medicine. You will get better."

"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice shaking. "I am not... I have never... I am still a virgin."

Damon's eyes darkened. "I know. That is why I want you here. I do not want a woman who has been with many men. I want untouched. Pure. Fragile."

He leaned down, his lips close to her ear but not touching. "Do not worry, little one. I will not touch you until you beg me to. And even then, I will be gentle. Because if I am not gentle, you will break."

Elara's heart beat so fast she thought her weak lungs would fail. No one had ever spoken to her like this. Part of her was terrified of Damon Black, the mafia boss. Part of her... felt something she had never felt before. Safe.

Maria interrupted, "Sir, the guest room is ready, the soup is ready."

"It is not a guest room," Damon corrected. "It is her room. From now on."

Elara followed Maria up the wide staircase. The room was beautiful. Bigger than her entire former apartment. A king-size bed with white sheets, a fireplace that was already lit, and a balcony overlooking the forest.

On the bed, there were already five shopping bags. Maria said, "Master Damon ordered them while you were in the car. Clothes, warm clothes, for you."

Elara opened one. Soft sweaters, beautiful dresses, all in her size. How did he know her size?

Maria smiled, "He is very detailed when he wants something."

Later, after Elara ate the warm soup and took a hot shower, she sat on the bed in one of the new silk pajamas. She coughed again, and looked at the blood tissue with sadness.

A knock. Damon stood at the door, holding a small wooden box.

"Your medicine. I got your prescription from your parents' house," he said. He walked in and placed it on the table. "Take them now."

Elara took the pills with water. He watched her swallow every single one.

"Good girl," he said quietly.

Then he turned to leave. At the door, he stopped without looking back. "Sleep. Tomorrow, the doctor comes at 9am. If you need anything, press the button beside your bed. I am in the room next to yours."

After he left, Elara touched the coat he had given her, still lying on the chair. It was still warm.

For the first time since she was 12 years old, she did not feel like a burden. She felt like someone actually wanted to fight her disease with her.

She fell asleep in the huge, warm bed, breathing a little easier, while downstairs, Damon Black sat in his dark office, staring at her medical file and making a list of the best lung specialists in the world