~Elsie's POV
I wanted to ask him what he meant by home.
The question sat right there in my chest, heavy and restless, pushing against my throat, begging to come out. But the moment I looked at him again, really looked at him, I stopped myself.
His gaze was cold. It wasn't angry, not even impatient. It was just… final, like whatever he had said was not something to be questioned.
So I kept quiet.
Even though my mind was screaming. Even though nothing about this felt right.
I just sat there, hands clenched together, my eyes fixed anywhere but him, waiting… not knowing what I was waiting for.
Then finally, the helicopter started descending.
My heart picked up again as I felt the slight drop, the way my body shifted with the movement, and I held onto my seat tighter without even realizing it.
When it landed, everything went still. For a second, I didn't move.
But he did. Salvatore stood up like nothing had happened, like we hadn't just crossed into a life I didn't understand, and stepped out first.
I followed.
Because what else could I do?
The moment my feet touched the ground, I looked up, and I froze.
We were on an island, and a very large one at that, stretching far beyond what I could take in at once.
It was… beautiful, I mean painfully beautiful.
The kind of beauty that didn't feel soft or welcoming, but sharp, almost intimidating. The ocean surrounded it endlessly, deep blue and calm on the surface, but something about it felt dangerous, like it held secrets underneath.
Tall palm trees lined parts of the land, swaying gently with the wind, and the air smelled clean, fresh… almost too perfect.
But then, the gaze fell on the guards as they were everywhere, positioned in corners, near buildings, along pathways. They looked armed and alert, watching everything.
And suddenly, the beauty didn't feel peaceful anymore.
It felt controlled, like nothing here moved without permission.
My chest tightened.
"Where am I?"
The thought barely settled before the nausea hit me again. I turned quickly, barely holding it in before I vomited, my body shaking as everything I had been holding inside came out all at once.
My throat burned, my eyes watered, and I stayed bent for a moment, trying to catch my breath.
I felt horrible, weak, and unreal.
I glanced down slightly, noticing the dried blood on my dress, stiff against the fabric, and for a second, everything around me felt distant again.
Like I wasn't really here, like this was happening to someone else.
"Walk."
His voice cut through everything. It was so cold. I swallowed hard and straightened slowly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand before nodding slightly.
And I walked, right beside him, into whatever this place was.
The moment we stepped inside, everything changed again.
The space was huge. The floors were smooth and shining, reflecting the lights above in a way that made everything look almost unreal. The ceilings stretched high above, decorated with simple but expensive designs, and the air inside felt cooler, controlled, as if even the temperature obeyed him.
Every piece of furniture sat exactly where it should be, every corner clean, every surface polished to perfection. It didn't feel like a home.
It felt like a place that was watched and carefully maintained, like mistakes were not allowed here.
My footsteps echoed softly as we walked further in, and I became suddenly aware of how small I looked in a place like this. My clothes, even though they had seemed fine earlier, now felt out of place again, especially with the dried blood still faintly visible.
And then…
"Boss."
The word came from different directions.
Men stood straight as we passed, bowing their heads slightly in respect, their voices low but clear.
"Boss."
"Boss."
It wasn't just the way they greeted him. It was the way they looked at him. Like one wrong move could cost them something serious. I noticed how no one dared to hold his gaze for too long, and how their shoulders stayed stiff even after we had walked past, like they were waiting for permission to relax.
I felt it in the way the air seemed too still, in the way every movement around me looked planned, like nothing here happened by chance. Even my own footsteps felt too loud in my ears, even though I was trying so hard to walk quietly beside him.
I kept my head low, my hands slightly trembling as I followed him, trying not to draw attention to myself, trying not to think too much about where I was or who I was with.
Then suddenly, he stopped.
I almost walked into him.
I lifted my head a little, just enough to see him speaking to a maid. His voice was low, calm, and she nodded quickly, like whatever he said was something she would not dare question.
I strained slightly, hoping to catch a word, anything at all, but I couldn't hear him.
And before I could even try again, he was gone.
He just turned and walked away. I stood there, frozen for a moment, my chest tightening as I watched his back disappear down the hallway.
Then….
"Mrs. Vitale."
The name hit me before I even turned.
I froze completely, my breath catching in my throat as I slowly faced the voice.
The maid stood there, smiling softly at me, her posture respectful, her hands folded neatly in front of her.
"Welcome, ma'am," she said again.
I blinked slowly, my lips parting slightly before I looked away again.
That's true.
We just got married.
I forced a small smile, the kind that didn't reach anywhere, and nodded slightly, just so she wouldn't keep staring at me like she was waiting for something more.
She didn't say anything else. She simply turned and gestured for me to follow, and I did, my steps slow and careful, like I was afraid the ground might shift under me at any moment.
She led me into a very large room. The kind of room that made you pause at the entrance because it didn't look real. The ceilings were high, the walls smooth and clean, and everything inside looked expensive in a quiet, effortless way.
And then I noticed them, the maids, there were a lot of them.
They were already in the room, moving around, arranging things, but the moment I stepped in, everything stopped. They all turned toward me at once, and almost immediately, they bowed slightly.
"Welcome, Mrs. Vitale."
Their voices blended, calm and respectful, I didn't know what to do with myself, where to place my hands, where to look, how to stand. For a second, I just stood there, frozen, before I nodded slightly and bowed my head a little in return.
It felt awkward.
But it felt safer than doing nothing.
One of them moved toward me after that, not rushing, but not slow either. Her steps were measured, her movements practiced, like she had done this many times before.
She moved differently from the others. She looked confident and more composed.
The rest stayed slightly behind her, their heads lowered, their hands folded neatly, but she met my gaze directly, though still with respect.
"My name is Clara. I am the head of the maids."