Elena descended the stairs, her heels soft against the marble, her posture composed and her expression perfectly in place, ready for the day ahead.
Just as she reached the last step, the front door opened and Lucien walked in, still wearing the same suit from the night before, his appearance disheveled, the faint smell of alcohol reaching her even from a distance.
Walk of shame, huh!
The thought crossed her mind, but she didn't let it show. If there was one thing she had learned, it was to never give him a reason.
"Why the hell are you dolled up like that so early in the morning?" His voice came rough, edged with irritation, his gaze dragging over her from head to toe.
He just had to open his damn mouth!
Elena resisted the urge to roll her eyes, knowing exactly how he would react if she did. "I have a meeting," she replied simply. "With my fiancé."
Lucien stilled for a brief second, clearly not expecting a straight answer. His eyes narrowed as he looked at her again, slower this time, more deliberate and that's when she noticed the unfocused edge in his gaze, the way he stood… he wasn't sober.
Before she could move, his hand shot forward and caught her wrist. "Tell me the address," he said, his grip firm on hers, almost bruising. "I'll take you there."
Elena's fingers tensed slightly but her expression remained unchanged. Arguing with him like this would only make things worse. "You don't have to," she said evenly. "I can go by myself."
Lucien's grip didn't loosen. "I don't trust you, Elena," he said, his voice dropping colder. "I want to see for myself if you're telling the truth."
Of course he did.
A faint discomfort settled in her chest as she glanced at his hand still wrapped tightly around her wrist, the pressure beginning to sting. She exhaled quietly, reaching for her phone with her free hand, unlocking it before holding it out toward him.
"The details were sent this morning."
Lucien snatched the phone from her hand, his eyes scanning the screen quickly but he didn't let go of her. "Fine, I'll go and see with my own eyes."
Her patience thinned. "What the hell, Lucien? Leave me alone," she said, her voice sharper now. "Look at yourself. You look like a drunk lunatic. I'm not going anywhere with you."
And that was enough to bruise his ego.
His grip tightened further, his expression darkening, something dangerous flickering across his face. She recognized that look instantly. His hand moved… but before it could impact on her face…
"Stop it."
The voice cut through sharply, freezing them both in place.
Victor Vaughn walked toward them, his gaze cold and irritated as it moved between the two. "Why are you both behaving like animals this early in the morning? What is this commotion?"
Lucien released her abruptly, only to step forward and hand the phone to Victor. "Elena says she's meeting her fiancé today," he said, his tone edged with accusation. "I was just making sure she's not lying by going with her."
Victor's eyes flicked over the screen before lifting to Lucien, his expression hardening. "You reek of alcohol," he said flatly. "You're not going anywhere."
Lucien frowned immediately. "But father…"
"Elena will go with the driver," Victor cut him off without looking at him.
That stopped him, but only for a moment.
"How can you trust her?" Lucien pressed, frustration rising again. "What if she ditches him like before she did with her other arrangements? Have you forgotten what she's already done to our name?"
Victor didn't respond to him this time.
Instead, his gaze shifted slowly toward Elena, cold and measured. "Whatever damage she has done is already done," he said. "Last night, she assured me this time would be different." A brief pause followed before his voice dropped slightly. "Isn't that right, Elena?"
The weight behind the question wasn't hidden.
"Or do I need to remind you," he continued, his tone quiet but threatening, "what happens if you fail me again? No matter where you go, I will find you."
Silence settled heavily around them.
Elena stood there, her wrist still faintly aching, her expression unchanged. Then, slowly, she smiled… blank, perfect, practiced.
"Of course, Father," she said softly. "I know very well."
_____________________________
The car came to a slow stop in front of the venue, and Elena stepped out, her posture already composed, her expression set in place as if nothing in the world could touch her.
The moment her heels met the ground, her gaze lifted… And then stilled.
Not far from the entrance, Alaric stood with a woman.
Close.
Too close.
Elena's steps slowed without her realizing it.
The woman leaned into him as if she belonged there, her hand resting lightly on his arm, her laughter soft, familiar… too familiar. It wasn't the kind shared between strangers, nor the careful politeness of acquaintances.
It was easy between them.
They looked… Comfortable.
Their closeness was… Intentional.
Something about it… irritated her.
Elena's fingers curled slightly at her side as she watched them, her expression remaining unchanged but her thoughts no longer as composed.
Who is she?
The woman tilted her head, saying something Elena couldn't hear and Alaric responded… calm, relaxed, as if this was nothing new.
As if this was normal.
They looked like they met often.
Elena's steps slowed even more.
Just slightly.
Barely noticeable.
But enough.
Before she could stop herself, her gaze lingered longer than it should have.
Long enough to see the woman rise on her toes… And press a kiss against Alaric's cheek.
It wasn't a quick peck.
She was lingering with intent.
The woman pulled back with a small, satisfied smile, something playful… almost provocative… in the way she looked at him.
Elena's breath stilled for half a second.
Something tightened in her chest.
Unexpected.
Unfamiliar.
Unwelcome.
She almost scoffed at herself.
Why does it matter?
But her feet didn't move.
She stood there, watching, her thoughts circling around the woman… her ease, her closeness, the way she touched him without hesitation.
So much so… that she forgot something important.
Alaric.
He had already noticed her.
The moment she arrived. The moment her presence shifted the air just enough.
He didn't turn towards her immediately.
He didn't even stop the woman.
Because he understood.
Helena had made her intentions clear the moment she approached him, her interest obvious, unfiltered. That she wants him.
And he hadn't stopped her.
Why would he?
His gaze shifted slightly, just enough to catch Elena standing at a distance, watching.
Still.
Silent.
Discomfort in her body language.
A faint, almost imperceptible satisfaction settled within him.
Perfect timing.
Helena was beautiful. There was no denying that.
She was confident.
Pretty much straight forward.
The kind of woman who didn't hesitate.
And for a fleeting moment, a thought crossed his mind… she would make a far better companion than the one he was being forced into.
If anything… this worked in his favor.
He didn't move when Helena leaned in again, didn't step away, didn't interrupt.
He let her.
Let Elena see.
Helena finally stepped back, her fingers brushing lightly against his arm before she turned, casting him one last playful smile before walking away.
Only then did Alaric turn fully.
His gaze landed on Elena.
She was still standing there, her expression blank, perfectly controlled… but her body language told a different story.
There was a pause in her stance. A stiffness that hadn't been there before. She hadn't expected that.
And he saw it.
A faint satisfaction flickered through him.
But Elena didn't say a word.
Didn't greet him.
Didn't acknowledge him.
Instead, she walked.
Straight past him.
Her steps are sharper now, controlled but not as effortless as before.
She didn't stop.
Didn't look back.
Heading directly toward the private garden that had been arranged for them.
Alaric watched her go, his gaze following her retreating figure, something unreadable settling behind his eyes.
A faint curve touched his lips.
This is going to be interesting.