Two Alphas. One Woman. One Bullet.
Chapter 3
The chandelier incident was ruled an accident before the sun rose, faulty wiring, old and structural fatigue. Three clean explanations, delivered with crisp efficiency over breakfast as though they were discussing weather patterns instead of a near-fatal collapse. Emma didn't believe a word of it. She stood alone on the east balcony the next morning, a silk robe wrapped tightly around her tiny hourglass waist as cool air lifted strands of her hair. Below, the side gardens stretched in precise geometry...manicured hedges, symmetrical gravel paths, and at the center, the marble fountain shaped like a fallen angel. The statue's wings curved inward as if shielding itself from judgment or hiding shame . Blackwood Manor did not have accidents. The estate was too meticulously maintained, too controlled and too curated. Behind her,the glass doors slid open with quiet elegance. "You're thinking too loudly," Damon said. His voice was low, composed. Always composed. She didn't turn. "The rope was cut." Emma confidently said. "Yes ."Damon agreed, "And no one seems concerned."Emma said with confusion and worry on her face ."They're concerned," Damon replied calmly, stepping beside her. "They're just trained not to show it ". Emma folded her arms tightly across her chest. "Who would sabotage Ethan's event?" "Plenty of people want him embarrassed." Damon's gaze scanned the grounds below. "More want him ruined." "And you?" she asked quietly. His jaw tightened slightly. "If I wanted him ruined, I wouldn't need a chandelier." Her eyes flicked to him. Truth lived there. Dark, ruthless truth but truth none the less. Before she could respond, a scream tore through the morning air. Sharp, panicked female, not from inside the manor; from the gardens. Emma's stomach d ropped. They ran towards the direction of the scream.
Gravel crunched under their shoes as they reached the angel fountain. A junior house staff member knelt near the hedges, trembling, hands covered in red. Blood streaked across pale stone like a violent brushstroke. Emma's pulse spiked. A white rose bush had been slashed apart, petals littered the gravel like fallen snow but the blood didn't belong to flowers.It belonged to a man; Security dragged a disheveled trespasser toward the gates. His nose was broken, face swollen, shirt stained. "I just needed money!" the man shouted hoarsely. "They said I'd be paid to scare him!" Ethan's voice cut through the chaos as he approached. Controlled fury radiated from him like heat from steel. "Who said that?" Damon stepped forward, eyes sharp. "Name." The man spat blood onto the gravel. "A woman." Emma felt it before she saw her. Teressa stood still at the edge of the terrace steps, observing everything. Her hands were folded neatly in front of her apron. Her expression wasn't shocked, it was . Ethan's gaze snapped back to the man. "Describe her." "I don't know!" he rasped. "She met me outside the employment office two weeks ago and said she worked here, so it would be easy. Just cause panic." That's what she ordered me to do. Silence rippled across the garden. Emma's eyes locked with Teressa's. For half a second just a flicker, something dark passed through the maid's gaze. Then Teressa lowered her eyes demurely. "Ridiculous," Ethan said coldly. "Securit y, Handle it," Ethan commanded. The man was dragged away, no police were called, no further questions asked, just erased. Emma's unease sharpened into something harder. She stepped closer to Ethan. "You're not even going to question your staff? "I protect my household," he said evenly. "By ignoring red flags?" Damon's voice slid between them. "Or by hiding them?" Ethan's eyes flashed. "Careful." The tension between the two men vibrated like a live wire. Emma stepped back, feeling unsettled. This wasn't random, someone was surely probing the walls, testing weaknesses.And she couldn't shake the feeling that the attack wasn't meant for Ethan's reputation, it was meant for her.
The rest of the day unfolded with a very weird energy lingering. The staff replaced the ruined rosebush before lunch. The fountain was scrubbed until there was no trace of blood. Guests from the previous night were assured the chandelier malfunction had been "fully investigated." Blackwood Manor absorbed chaos the way silk absorbs perfume without visible stain.But Emma noticed things others didn't ; the way Teressa lingered in doorways, the way security guards avoided her gaze, the way Ethan 's office remained locked all afternoon. And Damon watched everything. By evening, the house felt quieter than usual, too quiet. Emma skipped dinner and retreated to her room early. She stood by her window, staring down at the garden now glowing under soft landscape lights and the angel fountain shimmered eerily. She kept replaying the trespasser's words in her mind . "A woman." Said she worked in the manor and met him outside an employment office. It could all be a lie, a deliberate misdirection. But something inside her whispered otherwise. While she was still deep in her thoughts, a soft creak echoed from the hallway. Emma's breath stilled. Her bedroom door was slightly ajar. She knew she had shut it. Slowly; deliberately. She crossed the room in silence. The corridor outside was empty, long, dimly lit by wall sconces casting elongated shadows across polished floors. She stepped out, and the air felt colder. At the far end of the hallway, near the staircase...a shadow moved, long, feminine, watching. "Hello?" Emma called, her voice steady despite her heartbeat racing rapidly. There was no response, but the shadow shifted. Emma followed and each step felt louder than it should. Halfway down, she paused. Voices drifted up from below. "...keep her inside ," Ethan was saying. "She isn't a prisoner," Damon replied. "She's leverage whether she likes it or not." Emma's chest tightened upon hearing that. She slowly walked down the remaining steps. Both men looked up. "You were discussing me," she said calmly. Ethan's expression softened immediately. "We were discussing security ." "You mean control." Emma smirked faintly. Damon leaned back against the banister. "You shouldn't be walking alone .""And you shouldn't be deciding where I walk," she shot back . Ethan approached her slowly. "The trespasser wasn't random." "I know." "He wasn't targeting me." "I know that too." The three went silent while exchanging glances. Damon's voice dropped. "He was watching your balcony." Emma's stomach turned. "He never asked about Ethan's schedule," Damon continued. " He asked about yours." Ethan's jaw tightened. "So," Emma said quietly , "someone wanted me frightened ." "Or vulnerable," Ethan added. "Or removed," Damon said. The word echoed through the room walls; removed. Emma struggled to swallow her saliva. "Why?" Neither man answered immediately. Because they all knew that she was the only unpredictable variable in a merger built on dominance and strategy, emotion complicated power, and she was the emotion.
Later that night, after both men reluctantly agreed to increase patrols without confining her, Emma returned up stairs. She didn't turn on the main lights, as the moonlight filtered through all the windows, casting silver across the corridor. She reached her door, and it was closed; properly closed. She hesitated upon that realization but entered her bedroom anyway. Nothing looked disturbed; her bed remained untouched, her vanity organized, her suitcase in the corner. Everything looked normal, but something felt... altered. She approached the vanity slowly, her reflection stared back at her pale, alert, unsettled. Then she noticed something on the polished wooden surface. A single white rose petal;fresh from the garden, stained with red at the edges. Emma slowly exhaled and picked it up carefully. It was from the destroyed rose bush near the fountain. Which meant someone had entered her room. After the incident, after security had swept the grounds and after she had locked her door . A knock startled her . She spun around. "Emma?" Damon's voice came through softly. "Are you alright?" She hesitated at first, then opened the door. He scanned her face immediately. "What happened?" She held up the petal. His expression hardened. "I locked this room." "I know." He stepped inside, scanning the corners, the closet, beneath the bed with swift precision and nothing was alarming. "Who has master keys?" she asked. "Head of security, Ethan." with a pause. "And senior house staff." They both thought about it. Teressa. Emma crossed her arms tightly. "She was watching in the garden." Damon's gaze darkened. "You're not imagining that?" "No." He stepped closer. "Stay in my wing tonight." She hesitated. "I'm not asking because I think you're weak," he added quietly. "I'm asking because whoever this is wants proximity." "And you think they won't approach if I'm near you?" His lips curved faintly ."They'll think twice." A long silence passed between them.
Then...footsteps echoed faintly from the stairwell again. Both of them went rigid, and Damon moved first, stepping into the corridor silently. Emma followed despite being scared. At the far end, a figure stood near the linen closet; too still and composed. Teressa. She looked almost ghostly in the moonlight. "Is something wrong, Miss?" Teressa asked gently. Emma studied her carefully. "You tell me." Teressa's eyes flicked briefly to Damon, then back to Emma. "I heard movement, so I came by to ensure all guests were comfortable." "At midnight?" Damon asked."I take my duties seriously." Emma stepped forward. "Did you enter my room tonight?" Teressa slowly blinked once. "Of course not." Emma held up the petal . "Then how did this get there?" Teressa's gaze dropped to it, her lips curved almost imperceptibly. "It's just a flower." "No," Emma said scornfully . "It's a message." The maid's posture remained perfectly straight. "And what message would that be?" Emma held her gaze. "That I'm being watched." Silence thickened,Teressa's expression didn't crack, but something shifted in her eyes. Possessiveness, cold and unsettling. Her gaze drifted past Emma, towards the closed door of Ethan's private office down the hall then back. "Some things," Teressa said softly, "grow better when they are carefully." A chill crawled down Emma's spine. "And some weeds," Damon replied evenly, "need removing." Teressa dipped her head slightly. "Good night, Mr. Knight and Miss Francis ." Then she walked away, her movement was unhurried and intentional. Emma stood frozen in the corridor long after she disappeared. "This isn't about business," she whispered. "No," Damon agreed. Below them, in the darkened garden, the angel fountain gleamed under the moonlight. Its marble hands were stained faintly pink despite the cleaning, because some marks...even in Blackwood Manor, refused to disappear. And somewhere in the silence of the estate, someone was already planning the next move.
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