Chapter 33: Side Character x Mafia Boss (33)

Alastair stopped near the entrance of the estate’s subterranean level. He turned his head slowly, looking down at Elena with eyes so drained of humanity they looked like hollow slate.

"I gave you a luxury suite," Alastair said, his raspy voice cutting through the silent hall. "I gave you freedom within this house. And yet, you continue to test my patience."

Elena glared up at him, her chest heaving as she struggled against the guards’ grip. "I will never stop trying to get out of here, Voss! You can’t keep us trapped forever!"

Alastair didn’t waste another second listening to her defiance. He raised a single finger, signaling his men.

"Throw her into the cold basement," Alastair ordered callously, his tone utterly devoid of emotion. "Lock the iron gate. She will stay in the dark until your father surrenders his territory."

"You bastard!" Elena yelled as the guards roughly yanked her backward, dragging her down the steep, stone steps leading into the dark underground dungeon.

As she was being dragged down into the darkness, Elena’s frantic eyes caught sight of a young housemaid standing near the top of the stairs, holding a linen basket. The maid had generic servant clothes on, but as her eyes briefly met Elena’s, a knowing glint flickered deep within her dark gaze.

Elena’s heart skipped a beat.

She recognized those eyes. She recognized the faint scar near the maid’s neck.

That’s... that’s one of my brother’s private operatives! Elena thought frantically, her mind racing as she was pulled deeper into the cold dark. Gabriel sent someone inside the Voss estate?! Finally... someone came to rescue me!

A tiny spark of wild hope flared inside Elena’s chest as the iron door at the bottom of the stairs slammed shut with a deafening CLANG.

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Hours passed in total darkness.

The silent basement was freezing cold, damp, and completely isolated from the rest of the sprawling estate. The thin stone walls dripped with moisture, and the air smelled heavily of old iron and wet concrete.

Elena sat curled up in the far corner of the dark cell, shivering uncontrollably. Her milky skin was pale, her lips turning a faint shade of blue from the biting chill. Her wrists throbbed from the tight ropes, and every tiny noise in the dark corridor made her heart leap into her throat.

Hang on, Elena... she mentally repeated to herself, clutching her arms to keep warm. " Gabriel’s operative is inside the house. She’s going to unlock this door any minute now..."

Click.

The metallic sound of a key turning in the ancient iron lock echoed through the quiet basement.

Elena snapped her head up instantly. Her desperate eyes stared at the cell door as it slowly swung open.

Standing in the dim doorway, holding a small flickering lantern in one hand and a tray of plain bread and water in the other, was the exact same maid from the stairwell.

Relief swept over Elena like a massive wave, tears of pure happiness welling up in her eyes. She scrambled up from the freezing stone floor, staggering toward the cell entrance on weak, trembling legs.

"You... you finally came," Elena whispered, her voice shaking with emotion as she held out her bound wrists. "Untie me quickly! We have to get out before Alastair’s men check the lower corridors!"

The maid didn’t move. She didn’t pull out a blade to cut the ropes, nor did she reach out to help Elena stand.

Instead, she calmly set the tray down on a small stone ledge, her expression turning unnervingly cold and emotionless under the dim lantern light.

She looked up, her gaze sweeping past Elena’s disheveled state, completely ignoring her tears.

"Where is the girl?" the maid asked, her voice flat "Where is Lyra?"

Elena froze in her tracks, her breath catching in her sore throat. The bright happiness in her eyes instantly shattered, replaced by a cold confusion.

"W-What...?" Elena stammered, her voice dropping into a frightened whisper. "Why... why are you asking for her?"

The maid slowly reached under her servant apron, pulling out a sleek, compact black communicator device. She glanced at Elena with complete indifference, her eyes devoid of any sisterly concern or loyalty.

"My master didn’t send me here for you, Miss Hart," the maid replied coldly, her voice echoing off the damp stone walls. "My brother... Lord Gabriel... asked specifically for the girl named Lyra."

Elena’s face dimmed completely, all color draining from her skin as she backed away into the shadows of her cell.

"Gabriel... wants Lyra...?" Elena whispered in horror.

"Lord Gabriel has zero interest in retrieving a failed pawn," the maid stated bluntly, turning her back on Elena as she adjusted her communicator. "He needs the little maid who holds Alastair Voss’s heart. Once I extract Lyra from the master suite tonight, the Hart syndicate will have complete leverage over Voss."

Elena slammed her hands against the icy bars, her heart shattering into a thousand painful pieces. "No! Don’t you dare touch her! She has nothing to do with Gabriel’s sick war!"

The maid didn’t even turn around. She simply pulled the cell door shut, turning the key until the iron lock clicked firmly back into place, leaving Elena trapped in the freezing, absolute darkness once more.

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Meanwhile, up in the lavish warmth of the master suite...

Lyra was currently deep into Phase One of her grand operation: Extreme Obscure Comfort.

Having completely devoured her pancakes, bacon, and orange juice, she had dragged a plush duvet over to the sofa. The cold steel chain clinked merrily along the hard floorboards as she adjusted her position, fluffing three massive pillows behind her back.

Ding!

A small blue notification box popped up in front of her face.

[ Character Status & Metrics ]

Alastair Voss - Obsession Level: 88%

Darkened Value: 82%

Host Status: Docile (Simulated)

"See that, System?" Lyra said proudly, taking a slow sip of tea. "My docile act is already stabilizing the metrics! When Alastair comes back tonight, he’s going to see a sweet, obedient little angel who has completely given up on her chaotic escape plans."

[ Host... ] the System spoke up, its voice carrying a strange, hesitant tone. [ While your acting is indeed top-tier, I just detected a subtle anomaly in the mansion’s secondary security network. ]

Lyra’s tea cup froze mid-air. Her dark eyes narrowed. "An anomaly? Like... a bug?"

[ No, Host... ] The System pulled up a translucent map of the estate’s floor plan. A tiny red dot was slowly moving up through the service elevator shaft from the basement level. [ An unauthorized signal just bypassed the third-floor guard post. Someone using a master housekeeper key card is currently approaching this room. ]

Lyra’s heart did a sudden flip.

"Wait..." Lyra whispered, scrambling to put her tea cup down on the table. "Is it Alastair?! Did he come back early to check on his chained prisoner?!"

[ Unlikely, Host! Alastair’s main GPS signal is currently locked in the subterranean interrogation wing on the opposite side of the estate! This individual... is moving with extreme stealth. ]

Lyra swallowed hard, pulling her legs up onto the sofa. The metal chain let out a sharp clink.

Click.

The double doors of the master suite didn’t burst open with Alastair’s usual terrifying authority. Instead, the brass handle turned silently, and the door slid open just a few inches.

A figure slipped inside, closing the door behind them without making a single sound.

Lyra blinked, leaning forward.

It was a slender young housemaid holding a brass duster in one hand and a concealed pouch in the other. Her head was lowered, her facial expression completely hidden in the shadows of the dimly lit foyer.

"U-Um... excuse me?" Lyra called out awkwardly, clutching her duvet to her chest. "The room is already clean! And if you’re here to deliver more pancakes, I’m actually pretty full..."

The maid didn’t answer.

Instead, she slowly raised her head. The moment her, icy gaze locked onto Lyra’s face, the gentle, submissive posture of a servant vanished completely. Her eyes were cold.

Before Lyra could even scream for help, the maid reached under her apron, pulling out a compact syringe filled with a clear liquid.

"Target acquired," the maid murmured into a tiny hidden lapel mic, her voice devoid of any emotion. "Proceeding with extraction."

Lyra’s dark eyes widened

"HOLY SHIT! SYSTEM!" Lyra shrieked internally, scrambling backward on the sofa so fast she nearly fell off the cushions. "AN ASSASSIN?! WHY IS THERE AN ASSASSIN IN THE MALE LEAD’S BEDROOM?!"

[ HOST! THAT IS NOT AN ASSASSIN! ] the System yelled back in high-pitched digital panic, flashing red alerts across her vision. [ BIOMETRIC SCAN COMPLETE! THAT IS GABRIEL’S INSIDE OPERATIVE! SHE IS HERE TO KIDNAP YOU! ]

"KIDNAP ME?!" Lyra screamed in her head, frantically tugging at her right leg.

CLINK! CLINK! CLANK!

The steel cuff bit sharply into her ankle, holding her firmly anchored to the massive bed frame ten feet away.

"WAIT! WAIT! MISS OPERATIVE!" Lyra yelled out loud, waving her hands frantically in front of her like a waving flag. "YOU HAVE THE WRONG ROOM! THE FEMALE LEAD IS DOWNSTAIRS IN THE BASEMENT! I AM JUST A BACKGROUND MAID WHO GOT CHAINED HERE BY ACCIDENT! GO SAVE ELENA!"

The operative didn’t pause for a single second. She took quick, silent strides across the Persian rug, her syringe ready.

"Lord Gabriel doesn’t need Elena," the operative replied coldly, stepping over the coffee table. "He needs you."

"HE WANTS ME?! WHY WOULD THE MAIN VILLAIN WANT A SIDE CHARACTER?!" Lyra shrieked.

The operative lunged forward, reaching out with lightning speed to grab Lyra’s shoulder and plunge the needle into her neck.

In that split second, something purely primal surged through Lyra. Maybe it was the indignity of being drugged twice in twenty-four hours, or maybe it was pure survival instinct, but Lyra didn’t flinch.

Instead of ducking, she grabbed a silver butter knife from her breakfast tray with her right hand. As the operative leaned in close, Lyra dodged sideways, drove the blunt butter knife right into the maid’s ribs with surprising force, and snatched the syringe right out of the operative’s hand!

Before the operative could react to the impact, Lyra spun the syringe around and slammed the needle straight into the maid’s shoulder, pressing the plunger all the way down!

"Take a taste of your own medicine!" Lyra grunted, shoving her away.

The operative’s eyes widened in, absolute shock. She stumbled backward, gasping as the sedative hit her bloodstream instantly. Her legs turned to jelly, her vision blurred, and with a heavy thud, she collapsed face-first onto the king-sized bed, completely wiped out and unconscious.