ALEX'S POINT OF VIEW (Same Scene — Alex's Perspective)
The engagement hall buzzed with voices I didn't care to hear. I stood with a glass in my hand, nodding at conversations I wasn't listening to. Business partners smiled, congratulated me, slapped my shoulder like we were friends. We weren't. This was an obligation. Performance. My father's show.
"Alexander, congratulations on your engagement."
"Thank you."
"She must be quite special."
"She is."
Lies came easily when you'd practiced them your whole life.
I scanned the room, pretending to look for someone. Anyone. An excuse to move away from these people. Then the noise around me faded. Just for a moment. Just enough.
Elena.
She stood at the top of the staircase, frozen. Her hands gripped the railing like she might fall. The dress moved around her, soft and white, and everyone turned to look. I hated that they were looking. I hated that I was looking.
Get it together.
She's just a girl in a dress. A contract. A business arrangement.
But my eyes stayed on her.
She took one step. Then another. Slow. Careful. Like she was walking toward something she couldn't escape. When she reached the bottom, I moved without thinking. My hand extended toward her.
"You look good," I said.
The words came out flat. Cold. Exactly how I needed them to sound.
Her eyes met mine briefly before she looked away. She placed her hand in mine, small and warm, and I felt something tighten in my chest. I ignored it.
"Come. I will introduce you to some of my business partners."
She nodded.
"Behave."
I didn't mean it cruelly. I just needed her to understand. No mistakes. No embarrassment. Nothing that would make this harder than it already was.
She followed beside me as I walked through the crowd. I introduced her to men in expensive suits who smiled too widely and women who studied her like she was a puzzle they needed to solve.
"This is my fiancée, Elena."
"Pleasure to meet you."
"Congratulations."
"Such a lovely couple."
Elena smiled. Nodded. Spoke when necessary. She was calm. Too calm for someone who had signed her life away days ago. It bothered me. I didn't know why.
I watched her from the corner of my eye. Not because I cared. Just monitoring. Making sure she didn't slip up. That's what I told myself.
She leaned closer, her voice quiet. "Can I step out for a moment? Just for fresh air."
I looked at her. Really looked. Her face was pale. Her smile tightens. She was overwhelmed. Of course, she was.
"Go. Do not stay out long."
She left, and I turned back to the conversation I wasn't interested in. But part of me stayed with her. Waiting. Watching the door.
I lasted five minutes before I went after her.
The veranda was cooler, quieter. And she was there, but wasn't alone.
Nathan's unmistakable and annoying voice cut through the air, followed by his usual smug grin. "Alex, my good friend. How have you been?"
I didn't smile. Not today. Not with him looking at her like that.
"Not now, Nathan," I said firmly.
He held his hands up in mock innocence. "Relax. I was talking to this beautiful woman."
My jaw tightened. "That beautiful woman is my fiancée."
Nathan blinked, then looked at her more closely. "Ah. I didn't know. My apologies." He reached out and took her hand like it was nothing. "Congratulations, Beautiful."
I took a breath to keep my tone even. "Her name is Elena."
There was a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he raised a brow. "Sorry. I mean, congratulations, Elena."
She responded calmly, but I could feel the shift in her posture, uneasy. Tension buzzed around us like static.
Then he leaned in toward her. Too close. I saw it before it happened, his voice lowering, that damn familiar charm.
"If you ever need help… I'm here. I know Alex better than anyone."
Before she could even react, I stepped in and took her hand back, my grip firm. I wasn't going to let this turn into a scene. Not with him.
"She won't be needing your help," I said, my voice sharper than intended.
Nathan just chuckled, unaffected as always. "Alright. Just being polite."
I didn't bother replying. I turned, guiding Elena back inside with her hand in mine. I didn't look back. I didn't need to. I could feel his smirk burning at my back.
Controlled. Unyielding. That's how I held her hand, and how I intended to keep everything else.
My father's voice filled the room as he began his speech. I stood beside Elena, still holding her hand. The crowd clapped. Smiled. Celebrated something that wasn't real.
I glanced at her. She was staring at someone across the room. Her mother. The softness on her face caught me off guard. I'd never seen her look like that. Open. Vulnerable. Real.
Then she moved.
Without asking. Without telling me. She walked away toward her mother, and irritation flared hot in my chest.
When she returned, I didn't hide it.
"Whose permission did you take before walking off?"
She blinked. "I saw my mom..."
"That's none of my business. As far as I'm concerned, when we're together, you don't disappear. You ask."
The words came out colder than I meant. But I couldn't take them back.
Her face fell slightly. I looked away.
"Stay away from Nathan."
She stared at me, wide-eyed, distracted. She wasn't listening. She was looking at me like she was trying to figure something out. Something I didn't want her to find.
"Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes."
She nodded quickly, but I knew she hadn't heard a word.
I turned away before she could see anything on my face. Before I gave anything away.
The party stretched on. Endless conversations. Fake laughter. I kept my distance from her, but I knew exactly where she was. Every moment. Every person she spoke to.
Nathan approached her again.
Of course he did.
I watched from across the room, my grip tightening on my glass. He said something that made her laugh. A small laugh, but still. I didn't like the sound of it. Not from him.
I moved toward them, but I saw Elena step back from Nathan just as I ended my conversation and began walking toward them with long, purposeful strides. Good. Better.
I didn't look away until she disappeared from the hall, then turned to face Nathan.
Of course, he was still standing there as if nothing had happened.
I spoke to him briefly about minding how he talks and teases Elena. Tension hung between us, sharp and unspoken. He just smiled like he knew something I didn't, and I hated that.
When the guests finally left, I went upstairs to shower and change.
I stood outside her door.
Our door.
I knocked. Hard.
She opened it slowly, her expression confused. Nervous.
"Move," I said.
"What?"
"Move, Elena."
She stepped aside, and I walked past her. I removed my jacket, then my watch. I could feel her staring.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
I didn't answer.
"Alexander..."
"What?"
"You can't just... I mean, you can't just come in here and sleep with me."
I stopped and turned to look at her.
"What are you talking about?"
Her face flushed. "You're unbuttoning your shirt and..."
"Are you dumb?"
The words slipped out before I could stop them. Too sharp. Too harsh.
She flinched.
I sighed. "I wouldn't touch you. Even if someone paid me. And you're not my type."
Relief crossed her face first. Then something else. Hurt, maybe. I didn't know why that bothered me.
"This is my room," I added. "We're sharing it from now on. My parents cannot know that this marriage is a contract."
Her expression crumbled.
"I can't... I didn't think it would be like this."
"Get used to it."
The words hung between us. Heavy. Final.
I walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
When I stepped out, a towel slung low around my waist, water sliding down my chest and back. My head was still buzzing from the heat of the shower. I grabbed another towel and dragged it through my hair, not paying much attention to anything else.
Then I felt it…
Eyes on me.
I looked up.
Elena.
She stood by the door, completely still, like she'd forgotten how to breathe. Her gaze was fixed on me, wide and unblinking, her cheeks already gaining color. She looked… startled. Like I was something she didn't expect to see.
"What are you looking at?" I asked, voice low, more curious than irritated.
That was all it took. She jolted back to life, face going crimson as she scrambled for the door. Too fast. Too panicked. She didn't see the stool beside the mirror.
Her foot caught.
She fell backward with a soft gasp.
I moved before my mind even caught up.
My hands found her waist, steadying her just as she was about to hit the floor. She collided with me instead… warm against warm, soft against muscle. Her breath hitched when she looked up at me, eyes wide and shining, chest rising too quickly.
Damn.
"Stop being so clumsy…" I said, quieter than I intended. I don't know why my voice came out like that. Gentle. Controlled. The opposite of how something in my chest reacted when I saw the fear flicker across her face.
She didn't answer. She just stared… like she was trying to understand something about me. Something I didn't want anyone to figure out.
Instead of letting her go, I lifted her.
Why? I don't know. Instinct. Or maybe I didn't want to feel her slip out of my hands too fast. She tensed, but didn't resist. She fit against my arms too easily, her warmth soaking into my skin.
I carried her to the bed and set her down. Carefully. Too carefully.
A beat passed.
Her eyes on me.
My thoughts are loud enough to drown the room.
I turned away before they showed on my face.
The wardrobe door closed behind me with a small click. A simple sound, but it cut the moment clean.
Except… it didn't.
Not really.
Even with the door shut, I could still feel her presence lingering in the space… and annoyingly, in my head.
And I hated that it stayed longer than it should.
I changed slowly, stalling. When I finally came out, she was already in bed, turned away from me.
I lay on the far edge. As far as I could get without falling off.
The room was silent except for her breathing. Soft. Even. She shifted once, twice, whispered something I couldn't make out.
I stared at the ceiling.
I shouldn't care. I shouldn't notice her. I shouldn't react to her.
But I did.
Every time she moved. Every time she breathed. Every time her hand brushed against the sheets.
I felt it.
And I hated that more than anything.
Because I don't want her. I don't like her.
I don't.
So why does it suddenly feel like she's the only thing I can't ignore?