Elena sat by the window, a cup of untouched coffee cooling in her hands.
She hadn't slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt it again, his mouth, his hands, the way her pulse had raced until she forgot why she hated him.
She hated that she couldn't hate him enough.
The clock struck seven. Somewhere downstairs, she heard the low hum of engines, Adrian's car pulling out of the driveway. He hadn't said goodbye. Not that she expected him to. After last night, silence had become their new language.
She traced the rim of her cup absently, trying to ground herself in the small motion. The mansion around her felt too large, too still. Every echo seemed to mock her.
When Nora entered, she looked nervous, like she'd been walking on eggshells since dawn. "Mrs. Vale? Breakfast is ready in the east hall."
Elena shook her head. "I'll eat later."
Nora hesitated, eyes flicking toward the window. "Mr. Vale asked me to remind you about the luncheon at noon. The car will be ready at eleven."
"Of course he did." Elena's tone was dry. "He always remembers the schedule, doesn't he?"
"Yes, ma'am."
When the maid left, Elena set the cup down and pressed her palms to her eyes. The day had barely begun and she already felt exhausted, not physically, but emotionally. Every minute since the kiss had been a battle between logic and longing.
Last night had changed everything, whether Adrian wanted to admit it or not.
And he didn't.
By the time she arrived at the charity luncheon, the city's elite were already gathered under the chandeliers, champagne glasses gleaming, laughter echoing in polished tones. The event was meant to celebrate the Vale Foundation's new hospital wing, but everyone there was more interested in her, the mysterious Mrs. Vale.
Elena could feel their eyes on her as she entered. The whispers trailed behind like perfume.
"That's her?"
"She's stunning. No wonder he married her."
"I heard she's from nowhere."
"She must be pregnant. That's the only explanation."
She smiled politely, her mask flawless. She learned fast, how to glide through rooms full of people who wanted to dissect her, how to pretend she belonged in a world that measured worth in bloodlines and bank accounts.
Mrs. Larrimore, Adrian's mother's oldest friend, greeted her with a practiced smile. "Elena, my dear. You look radiant."
"Thank you," Elena said, her tone even.
"I heard Adrian couldn't make it," Mrs. Larrimore went on, leading her toward the center table. "So busy, that husband of yours. The papers can't stop talking about you two."
"I've noticed," Elena said lightly. "They seem to have a new theory every day."
Mrs. Larrimore chuckled. "Let them talk. Every great marriage begins with curiosity."
Or contracts, Elena thought, but she kept that to herself.
The luncheon blurred into a series of polite smiles and hollow conversations. Cameras flashed when she least expected it, and every flash reminded her of the lie she was living. The perfect wife. The perfect marriage.
Halfway through, her phone buzzed.
It was a message from Adrian.
> Adrian: "You left without security."
Elena: "They were already busy with your event team."
Adrian: "Don't argue. Next time, wait for the car."
Elena: "Noted, Mr. Vale."
She set the phone down before she said something she'd regret.
He still hadn't mentioned last night. Not a word.
By the time the luncheon ended, her head ached from smiling. When she finally returned to the car, she asked the driver to take her the long way home. The thought of returning to that silent mansion made her chest tighten.
The city blurred past the window, people walking fast, living lives untouched by headlines or power. Ordinary, free. The kind of life she used to have before she traded it for her brother's survival.
By the time she reached home, the clouds had rolled in again, heavy and gray.
Adrian was in his study when she walked in. Papers spread across his desk, jacket off, sleeves rolled to his forearms. He didn't look up.
"You skipped security again," he said without preamble.
Elena set her purse down. "Good afternoon to you too."
He glanced up, eyes cool. "I'm serious."
"So am I. I don't need guards to have lunch with a room full of old women."
"Those 'old women' own half the media outlets in the city. They could turn on you with a single whisper."
She crossed her arms. "And you'd shut them down in a heartbeat. Isn't that what you do best?"
His jaw flexed. "You think this is a game?"
"No, Adrian. I think it's a prison with better lighting."
He rose from his chair slowly, the tension between them pulsing again. "You keep pushing, Elena. Why?"
"Because I can't breathe in this house."
His gaze softened for a fraction of a second, but his voice stayed steady. "You knew what you were walking into."
"I thought I did," she said quietly. "But every day, I see less of me and more of your shadow."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You're overthinking it."
"Am I?" she said, stepping closer. "Because it feels like the only time you actually see me is when you're trying not to."
He froze.
For once, the silence between them wasn't filled with anger. It was something else, fragile, electric.
"Elena," he said finally, voice low. "About last night..."
"Don't," she cut in. "Please don't make it sound like a mistake."
He looked torn. "It was complicated."
"Complicated?" she echoed bitterly. "That's what you call something that felt real?"
His eyes met hers. "It can't be real."
"Why not?"
"Because if it is," he said, voice tight, "everything else falls apart."
The words hung in the air between them, sharp and heavy.
She swallowed hard. "You really believe that, don't you? That feeling something makes you weak."
His expression hardened again, the moment closing like a door. "This conversation is over."
He turned back to his desk, pretending to read. But his hands, she saw it, were trembling slightly.
Elena stood there for a long moment, watching him fight himself, the man who could control everything except his own heart. Then she turned and left, the ache in her chest heavier than before.
That night, she found herself in the garden, barefoot on the wet grass. The rain had stopped, but the air was cool, alive with the scent of earth and roses.
She tilted her head back and looked at the stars. It had been weeks since she'd seen them. The city lights drowned out most nights, but here, here they still existed. Quiet, distant, unreachable.
Behind her, footsteps approached softly. She didn't need to turn to know who it was.
"You'll catch a cold," Adrian said.
She smiled faintly. "That's the least of my problems."
He stood beside her, hands in his pockets. For once, he didn't speak like a CEO or a strategist. Just a man trying to find the right words.
"I shouldn't have kissed you," he said finally.
"I know," she said softly. "But you did."
"And you kissed me back."
"Yes."
The air between them grew still again.
He exhaled. "I don't know what this is, Elena."
"It's the thing you're afraid to name."
He turned to look at her then, eyes unreadable. "You think love fixes people. It doesn't. It breaks them."
"And yet you can't stop circling it," she whispered.
He didn't answer. Just stared at her like she was something he couldn't decide to protect or destroy.
"Go inside," he said finally. "It's cold."
She smiled sadly. "If I go inside, I'll still be cold."
He didn't reply.
As she turned to leave, his voice followed her, softer than she'd ever heard it.
"Elena… I don't know how to do this."
She paused, looking over her shoulder. "Then let me teach you."
But when she looked back again, he was already walking away.
Later that night, she stood by her window, watching him from across the courtyard. He was in his study again, light spilling around him, phone pressed to his ear, his posture tense.
A man built on control, haunted by the one thing he couldn't manage, his heart.
And she was the reason.
The distance between them had never felt so small, and yet, somehow, infinite.
She touched the glass lightly, her reflection blurring against the night.
"Armor doesn't bleed," he had said once.
But she could see it now, the cracks forming, the blood underneath.
And if she wasn't careful, she was going to be the one who broke completely.