The Politics of Desire

Elvira's shoulders stiffened. She didn't turn around.

"To be honest, I was a little worried at first," Elena continued as she circled Elvira like a vulture, openly examining her.

"You're so beautiful. Any man would be tempted, but what a waste of a pretty face. Your mother couldn't beat my mother, and you'll never beat me. These past three years were nothing more than charity on my part. Now that the real deal is back, it's time for you to get off the stage."

Elvira slowly turned to face her. Under the moonlight, her eyes gleamed with a chilling sharpness. There was no anger, only ice-cold mockery. "Charity? Elena, did you forget what you are?

"You're a bastard who only got into this family because your mother was a homewrecker, a sad little schemer who can only hold onto a man through manipulation. You think you get to talk to me about charity?

She stepped closer, her presence overwhelming. "Your mother picked up what my mother didn't want, and you're following in her footsteps. Like mother, like daughter. You two have a real talent for collecting leftovers."

"You—"

Elena's smile froze, her face turning pale then red with rage. She hadn't expected Elvira, even in this situation, to be so stubborn.

Just as Elvira turned to leave, Elena suddenly let out a scream.

Elvira spun around to find Elena on the ground, clutching her forehead as blood soaked through her fingers and dripped down her white dress. A solid stone bench sat right next to her.

Antonio, Camilla, and Vincent rushed out at the same moment.

"Elena! My baby!"

Camilla dropped to the ground and cradled her, panic written across her face.

Antonio's face twisted with fury as he pointed at Elvira. "Elvira, you ungrateful brat! What did you do to your sister this time?"

Elvira stared at the setup, her heart numb. Her gaze swept past Antonio and Camilla before finally landing on Vincent.

He was crouched over Elena, inspecting her wound with extreme care. Concern twisted his face, then he looked up.

Those calm eyes now contained nothing but judgment and disgust.

At that moment, Elvira's heart sank in disappointment.

He didn't believe her. Of course, he didn't.

Elena was the one he cared for. Why would he believe Elvira?

She let out a soft, sudden laugh. If they wanted to frame her, then she might as well make it real.

The next second, she strode over. Under everyone's horrified stares, she grabbed a heavy ceramic planter beside the path and brought it down hard toward the exact place Elena had hit her head.

There was a dull, sickening crack, followed by Elena's shrill scream and the sound of everyone else gasping in terror.

"Listen up." Elvira dropped the shattered pot and said calmly, "I didn't touch her before, but now I did."

Everyone, including Vincent, froze. He never imagined she would go this far.

Elvira let the broken pieces fall from her hand and turned to leave, but a hand clamped down on her wrist with enough force to crush bone.

Vincent held her in place, his face darker than the night around them. He turned to Antonio, his voice icy cold. "Antonio, if she isn't properly punished after what she just did, I won't let this go. The Allen family does not tolerate anyone harming my woman."

Antonio, torn between his pity for Elena and his fear for Vincent and the Allens, quickly bobbed his head in submission. "Of course. I'll make sure she learns her lesson."

He motioned to the bodyguards. "Grab this disgraceful girl and lock her up in the basement!"

"Don't you dare!" Elvira resisted, glaring at Antonio.

She had been down there once as a child. It wasn't just a weapons vault. It was where the Corleones punished traitors and enemies, a dark and terrifying place filled with torture devices.

Antonio looked to Vincent for confirmation. "Don Allen, do you find this a fitting punishment? Locking her down there to reflect on what she's done?"

Vincent lifted Elena into his arms, her blood still flowing. His eyes were colder than steel as they swept past Elvira.

His lips parted, and the words that followed were merciless. "That's too light a punishment. I saw a riding whip hanging in the study earlier. It shouldn't just be for decoration."

Without another word, he left with Elena in his arms.

Elvira stood frozen like she'd been struck by lightning, staring at his fading figure.

He actually suggested they whip her.

This was the same man who once stayed by her bed when she was injured, who held her in silence whenever she was sad. Now, he was condemning her to a hell she couldn't escape.