"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Elena asked, still beyond shocked as she stared at Xander—who, she noted bitterly, was still wrapped in nothing but a towel.
"The same thing that's wrong with you, apparently," Xander replied coldly.
Elena had never been in a situation like this before. Not once in her life. She didn't know how to react, or even what to say. Her mind felt scrambled, still trying to catch up with everything that had happened in the last few minutes.
The same man who had tried to choke her…
Had also...kissed her.
She shook her head, disbelief crashing into anger.
"You… you kissed me. And then you lied to your grandmother," she said, her voice rising. "Are you insane?"
"Don't worry about my grandmother," Xander cut in flatly. "She has early-onset Alzheimer's. Half the time she forgets conversations minutes after they happen. That's the only reason I didn't lose my temper when she barged into my room."
His eyes hardened as they locked onto hers.
"You, on the other hand, walked into my bedroom and lied about being lost."
"I did get lost," Elena snapped.
"Did you?" he asked calmly. "Because if there's one thing I've learned tonight, it's that you're a very convincing actress."
Elena swallowed.
It felt like he was stripping her bare. Like he could see straight through every layer she put on.
"I'm going to ask you one last time," Xander said, his voice a low dangerous growl. "Who the hell are you?"
She lifted her chin, refusing to let him intimidate her.
"I already told you," Elena replied firmly. "My name is Elena Charles. I work for your sister. And if you need any more information, you should go ask her."
Without waiting for his response—without giving him the chance to grab her again—she turned and bolted for the door.
But before she could open it, the door flew open from the other end.
"Elena—oh my God."
Harper rushed in, breathless, eyes wide as she took in the scene: Xander bare-chested with a towel slung low on his hips, Elena rigid with anger, the air between them practically crackling.
"I'm so sorry," Harper blurted out immediately, panic in her voice as she moved toward Xander. "This is completely my fault. She's my new top model. I should've explained the rules better. It won't happen again, I promise."
Xander's gaze slid to Harper, unimpressed.
"Control your people."
"I will," Harper said quickly. Then she turned, grabbed Elena's arm hard, and lowered her voice. "Apologize. Now."
Elena stared at her, stunned.
"What?"
"Do it," Harper hissed through clenched teeth. "Now."
Elena looked back at Xander. His expression was unreadable.
Her jaw tightened.
"I'm… sorry," she said flatly, the word tasting like poison. "It won't happen again."
Xander didn't respond. He just held her gaze, like he knew the apology meant nothing.
Harper didn't wait another second. She yanked Elena toward the door.
"Come on," she snapped.
Elena stumbled as Harper dragged her out.
The door slammed shut behind them.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? I warned you not to go to the east wing!" Harper snapped, her voice sharp, her hands gripping Elena's shoulders like she might shake some sense into her. Her face was flushed red, a mix of fury and fear.
"I'm… sorry. I got lost," Elena muttered, tired of repeating the same excuse.
Harper opened her mouth to bark another reprimand, but then her eyes fell on Elena's neck.
"Oh no!" Harper gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as her other fingers went immediately to the swelling purple bruise blooming across Elena's skin. "No… no… no!" she hissed, panic breaking through her anger. "You have another photoshoot schedule tomorrow, a runway show the day after, and press tours. What the hell happened to your neck?!" Her voice had risen several octaves.
"Your brother happened," Elena replied coolly, though her chest still burned with anger. Every nerve in her body was still vibrating with the shock of Xander's audacity—he had not only laid hands on her but had the gall to kiss her as well.
Harper's eyes widened, disbelief and horror mingling. She stepped closer, almost trembling as her hands hovered over Elena's neck, checking the damage again.
"Oh… God," Harper muttered under her breath. "Freaking Xander. Always ruining everything."
Always ruining everything? Elena thought.
Aloud, she said calmly, "There's nothing a little foundation can't cover. I can still follow the schedule."
Harper let out a sharp sigh, already shaking her head. "No. Absolutely not. I can't have people seeing you like this. Not even my own makeup team or stylists—word spreads too fast. I cannot deal with another controversy."
Her eyes flicked back to Elena's neck, assessing damage rather than pain.
"You'll need at least a week. Maybe two. Those bruises won't fade overnight," Harper continued. "Everything has to be pushed."
Elena lowered her gaze, carefully arranging her expression into something apologetic. Soft and ashamed.
"Oh, I understand," she said quietly. "And I'm so sorry."
Harper studied her for a moment, then nodded. "You better be. I really hope you've learned your lesson."
She straightened, her tone firm now. "Stay far away from Xander."
Elena lifted her head.
"Yeah," she said, teeth clenched just enough to betray the lie. "I will."
"Good." Harper exhaled, already moving on. "Go get ready for dinner. I still need to introduce you to the rest of the family."
"Alright," Elena replied, turning toward her room.
"And Elena." Harper called.
Elena paused.
Harper's gaze flicked pointedly to her neck. "Cover that bruise."
Elena's fingers brushed the tender skin of her neck, unconsciously tracing the sore spot. She didn't respond—just nodded once and continued down the hall.
The moment she entered her room, she slammed the door behind her.
Then she began to pace.
What the hell was that?
What the hell had just happened to her?
Her hand rose to her lips, brushing over them slowly, reluctantly, the memory flooding back uninvited.
The kiss.
Her stomach twisted.
Why hadn't she felt disgusted?
Anger, yes. Fury, humiliation, shock—but not disgust. That realization unsettled her more than the kiss itself. She clenched her teeth and turned sharply toward the vanity.
Her reflection stared back at her.
The bruises on her neck stood out vividly against her skin, undeniable proof of Xander's grip. Proof of her mistake.
She laughed—short, bitter, humorless.
Sloppy.
That was the word.
She had been caught snooping.
Her charm hadn't worked on Xander.
He'd had the audacity to kiss her—and worse, to control the narrative afterward.
And Harper… Harper thought she had leverage.
Elena's smile faded, replaced by something colder.
Fine.
If brute force and charm failed, she'd switch tactics.
It was time for psychological warfare.
Time for the Armstrongs to get a proper introduction to Elena Charles.
And this time—she wouldn't underestimate any of them.