Ding!
Both of their phones buzzed almost at the same time. The sound cut through the moment.
Alaric glanced down first, his expression shifting slightly as he read the message. Elena checked hers a second later, her brows drawing together just a fraction.
A brief silence followed.
"Did you get the message?" She asked, looking up at him.
"Yeah," he replied, slipping his phone back onto the table. "We're supposed to head to the estate. Together." His tone suggested he already knew what it was about. "Let's go."
He pushed his chair back slightly, ready to stand but Elena lifted her hand, stopping him.
"I'm not going anywhere until I finish my food."
Alaric froze.
Then slowly looked at her, one brow lifting in quiet disbelief. "You want to keep my grandfather waiting?"
Elena didn't flinch. "I'm sure he'll understand that wasting food is worse."
For a moment, he just stared at her.
Then let out a short breath, shaking his head faintly. "You're unbelievable."
He took a moment to himself before his lips curved slightly, something sharper settling into his expression. "Good for me, though. Maybe he'll see how careless you are and call this whole thing off." His mischievous gaze held hers, deliberately. "Works in my favor."
That made her stop.
Just for a second.
Her eyes flicked to his face, searching, as if trying to decide whether he meant it.
He did.
The smirk didn't fade.
Something in her changed.
Before he could say anything else, Elena picked up her fork and took a quick bite, then another, no longer bothering with pace or composure. The careful elegance she had maintained earlier disappeared, replaced with something far more direct… efficient, almost urgent.
She didn't even look at him at first.
Then she did… and the look she gave him… was sharp.
Alaric blinked.
Then let out a quiet laugh, unable to hold it back because this… this was not what he expected.
The same woman who had sat across from him moments ago, composed and distant, was now hurriedly finishing her meal as if it were going to be her last meal, her expression tightening every time she glanced his way.
It was… oddly sincere.
And unexpectedly amusing.
He leaned back slightly, watching her, the faint amusement still lingering on his face.
There was something almost ridiculous about it.
And yet… he didn't look away.
For a brief moment, something unfamiliar stirred beneath that amusement, something he didn't quite pause to examine.
So instead, he just watched her… the way she rushed, the way her composure slipped just enough to reveal something real underneath.
And for the first time since meeting her… Elena Vaughn didn't look untouchable.
She looked… different in a good way.
_________________________
Alaric drove in silence for a while. The low hum of the engine filled the space between them, steady, almost too steady, making the quiet feel heavier than it should have.
He glanced at her once.
Then again.
Elena had gone still and silent.
Not the composed kind of still she carried in public, not the controlled elegance she wore like a second skin… but something distant.
Withdrawn from the world.
The same distant look he had noticed the first time he saw her with her family, when she stood there and said nothing, as if whatever was happening around her had nothing to do with her at all.
It didn't sit right with him.
"Why do you put up with your parents?"
The question came out before he could reconsider it.
Elena didn't react immediately. Her gaze remained on the road ahead, unfocused, as if she had expected the question at some point.
"Because I want to," she said simply.
Alaric frowned slightly.
That answer didn't satisfy him.
"You want to?" He repeated, glancing at her again. "You're choosing this? Even this sham marriage?"
This time, she turned her head just enough to look at him.
"Yes."
There was no hesitation.
No visible doubt.
Alaric let out a quiet breath, his grip tightening slightly on the steering wheel. "Even when you know your husband might never love you?"
For a brief moment, Elena didn't answer.
Her gaze lingered on him, not searching, not questioning… just… steady.
Then she spoke.
"Love isn't necessary,"
Her voice wasn't cold. It wasn't bitter either. Just… simply stated.
"Some people are fortunate enough to have it," she continued quietly. "And some aren't." She took a moment. "But the ones who aren't fortunate still live their lives." Her eyes shifted away again, back to the road ahead.
"They're still breathing, aren't they?"
The words settled into the car, heavier than they sounded.
Alaric didn't respond immediately.
For once, he didn't have something sharp to say, nothing to counter her with. The certainty in her voice, the absence of any complaint… it didn't feel like denial.
It felt like acceptance.
And that… was harder to argue with.
After a moment, he spoke again, his tone quieter, less edged than before.
"If I marry you…" he said, his eyes still on the road, "I might lose my chance to find someone I actually can fall in love with."
Elena looked at him again.
This time, longer.
He glanced at her, "you are the reason I'm going to be one of those unfortunate ones."
There were a hundred things she could have said.
That he still could look for love.
That nothing was stopping him.
That this arrangement didn't have to mean anything more than it already did.
But she didn't say any of it.
Because she knew.
No matter what happened… no matter what choice he made… he would always trace it back to her.
Blame her for it.
And maybe… that was easier.
Elena turned her gaze away again, her expression returning to that same quiet stillness.
She didn't argue.
Didn't defend herself.
She just accepted it.
And somehow… that silence said more than anything else she could have replied.
____________________
Both of them stepped out of the car and walked into the estate, the atmosphere shifted immediately the moment they crossed the threshold. The place carried a quiet authority… polished floors, calm lighting, every detail controlled into perfection.
A butler was already waiting, as if their arrival had been anticipated down to the second.
"This way, Mr Hale, Ms Vaughn," he said, guiding them through the corridor without another word.
Their footsteps echoed softly as they followed, the silence between them returning, heavier now, more aware.
Neither of them spoke to each other.
Whatever had been said in the car lingered within, unaddressed, settling into the space between them.
The butler stopped in front of a set of double doors and opened them.
"The study."
They stepped inside.
Edward Hale stood near the window, his back partially turned to them, the light filtering inside was just enough to cast a shadow across his face. In his hand were a few photographs, held loosely, though the tension in his posture suggested otherwise.
He didn't turn immediately.
Just looked down at the pictures for a moment longer, his expression tightening.
Then… he spoke.
"You both had one job," he said, his voice calm, but edged with something far less forgiving. "Just one job."
He turned slowly.
His gaze moved from Alaric to Elena, measuring them, assessing and clearly he looked displeased.
"You two were told to act like you're in love with each other," he continued. "And yet… you failed."