Shackled By Choice

Chapter4

Chapter 4: The Betrayal at the Table

Elena sat in the rear of the polished black Rolls-Royce, gazing at the rain-soaked streets as they approached the restaurant. Her hands shook in her lap, but she was not afraid. From rage. From the smoldering urge to find out what really happened — on her own terms.

She sensed Marcus’s eyes on her. He hadn’t spoken since they’d left the mansion, but his presence was oppressive, his control a leash she was dying to slip.

“Careful, Elena,” he murmured at last, warning laced with dark amusement in his voice. “Your father is a professional liar. “He’s not going to shatter easily.”

I know how to deal with him,” she retorted.

His lips quirked. "Do you?"

She turned to face him fully. “Why are you so passionate about this? What did my father ever do to you, Marcus? Because this isn’t simply business. This is personal."

His jaw tightened, the first flicker of true emotion she’d seen in him. "You’re right. It is."

Before she could push harder, the car came to a stop in front of La Lumière, one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city. The valet opened the door, and Marcus got out first and offered his hand.

Elena didn’t hear it, raising her chin and stepping out on her own. This time, if it was, in fact, a game, she was not a passive piece — she was here to play.

Inside, her father, already seated at a shadowy table. His face was scrupulously neutral, but his eyes darted back and forth between her and Marcus.

"Elena." He got to his feet as she neared, pretending to be cordial. "You look—"

"Save it." She took a seat across from him. “No one should act as if this is a family reunion.

Marcus smirked and sat by her, throwing his arm lazily over the back of her chair. A possessive display. A warning.

Her father’s eyes glanced at Marcus before releasing a breath. "You’re upset. I understand."

"Do you?" Elena leaned in, voice low. “Because I don’t think you do. You deceived me, coerced me into this marriage, and stole my company — our company. And now I learn you were possibly involved in my mother’s death?”

Her father turned pale as a ghost. His hand gripped the wine glass in front of him. "That’s ridiculous."

"Is it?" Marcus’s voice was silken steel. "Project Aurora. Your wife's death. The timing is — interesting.”

Her father’s eyes narrowed. “You think I murdered my own wife?”

“I believe you did what you needed to do to protect your legacy,” Marcus said smoothly. “And now I have the evidence to expose you.”

Elena’s breath caught. Proof?

Her father’s face went paler still, but his mask held. "You’re bluffing."

Marcus placed a slim black folder on the table. "Am I?"

Elena’s hands trembled as she reached for it but her father seized her wrist. "Don’t." His voice was crisp, almost desperate.

She freed it and flipped it open.

Inside, there were copies of documents — financial statements, internal reports, confidential emails. And then, a photograph.

Elena felt her pulse throbbing in her ears. It was her mother. But not just a picture — it was a crime scene photo. Her mother’s car so mangled it was unrecognizable. And in the background, half hidden, was a man she knew all too well.

Her father.

“You were there,” she said softly. "The night she died."

Her father’s face hardened. "It’s not what you think."

"Then explain." Her voice grew loud enough to attract nearby diners’ attention.

His gaze darted to Marcus. "You set this up. You think you can poison my daughter against me?”

“You brought that good upon yourself,” Marcus said smoothly, sipping his wine. “I’m just helping her come to the truth.”

Her father’s countenance darkened. “And what’s your endgame, Reed? And you think destroying me will get your family back?”

Elena turned her head suddenly toward Marcus. His family?

His knuckles whitened slightly around the stem of his wine glass.

“You don’t talk to my family,” he said, his voice eerily calm.

Her father scoffed. "Oh, but I do. Because I was the architect of your father’s demise. And your mother’s."

The room spun.

Marcus’s hand slapped the table, rattling the glasses.

“Excuse me, Mr. Reed,” James Walker’s voice sliced through the tension as he approached the table, his calm composure a little shaken. "We have a situation."

Marcus’s gaze remained glued to her father’s. "Handle it."

“It’s Victoria,” James said slowly. "She’s gone missing."

Elena’s blood ran cold.

Her father went rigid. "What?"

James pushed a phone across the table. The screen displayed a live feed from security at the Mitchell estate.

Victoria’s bedroom was turned upside down — drawers spilled onto the floor, a shattered mirror stared back at the disorder.

And scribbled on the wall in dark red paint were three disturbing words:

I KNOW EVERYTHING.

A heavy silence settled as if through a thick fog.

Marcus let out a long breath, his face inscrutable. Then he turned to Elena.

“Looks like we have another player in the game.

Her father shot to his feet. “If you were involved in this at all —”

“Sit down,” Marcus said, his voice lethal. “You’re in no place to be making threats.”

Elena’s mind raced. Victoria had long been vicious but reckless. Had she found something even more hideous?

She turned to Marcus. "What now?"

His mouth twisted into something queasy and inscrutable. “Now we see who’s really behind the curtain.”

And for the first time Elena understood—she didn’t know if it was her father or Marcus she needed to be more afraid of.

Because the game had just changed.

And she didn’t know who would win.