ELENA'S POINT OF VIEW
I woke up with a knot in my stomach.
The first thing I thought about wasn't the training ahead or the models who mocked me yesterday.
It was the box.
I turned my head slowly, staring at the space under the bed. The same space where I'd found those letters. Those beautiful, heartbreaking letters Alex had written to someone named Mia.
I already knew what I'd find if I looked.
Nothing.
But I had to check anyway.
I slid out of bed and knelt down, pressing my cheek against the cool floor. My hand reached under, searching blindly in the darkness.
Empty.
The box was gone.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
Alex had taken it. Which meant he knew. He knew I'd gone through his things. Read his private letters. Seen the photograph with the burned-out face.
He knew.
And he hadn't said a word.
That silence was worse than any confrontation. Because it meant he was waiting. Watching. Planning.
I pulled myself up slowly, my legs shaky.
I needed to get ready. Face him. Pretend everything was normal even though nothing felt normal anymore.
I dressed carefully, choosing a simple navy dress that felt safe. Professional. I pulled my hair back and checked my reflection.
I looked tired. Scared.
But I couldn't let him see that.
I took a breath and headed downstairs.
The dining room was bathed in morning sunlight. Alex was already seated at the head of the table, a cup of coffee in one hand, his phone in the other. He looked perfect as always. Suit pressed. Hair styled. Every inch the powerful businessman.
I hesitated in the doorway.
He looked up.
"Good morning, Elena."
I froze.
He never greeted me. Never. In all the time we'd been married, he'd never once started a conversation with "good morning."
This was a warning.
"Good morning, Alex," I managed, my voice barely steady.
I walked to my seat and sat down carefully, keeping my movements slow and controlled.
The staff brought breakfast. Eggs. Toast. Fruit. Coffee.
I picked up my fork even though I wasn't hungry.
We ate in silence.
The kind of silence that felt alive. Dangerous.
Then Alex set down his coffee cup. The sound was sharp in the quiet room.
"I trust you understand the importance of respecting boundaries in this house."
My fork paused halfway to my mouth.
"Of course," I said quietly.
His eyes met mine. Cold. Knowing.
"Good. Because crossing certain lines can have consequences. And I would hate for you to do something you'd regret in the future."
My throat went dry.
He was talking about the box. About the letters. Without saying it directly.
"I understand," I whispered.
"Do you?" He leaned back in his chair, studying me like I was a problem he was deciding how to solve. "You owe me a great deal, Elena. It would be wise not to forget that."
The debt. He was reminding me of the debt. The money he'd paid for my mother. The life he'd saved. The contract I'd signed.
"I won't forget," I said, forcing myself to meet his gaze even though everything in me wanted to look away.
"See that you don't."
He stood abruptly, straightening his suit jacket.
"I have meetings all day. I'll be home late."
"Okay."
He walked past me without another word. I heard his footsteps echo down the hall. Then the front door opened and closed.
I sat there, staring at my untouched breakfast, my hands trembling in my lap.
He knew.
And now I knew he knew.
But neither of us would say it out loud.
The drive to Blake Modeling Enterprise felt longer than usual.
I kept replaying Alex's words in my head. His tone. The way he'd looked at me.
Crossing certain lines can have consequences.
I shook my head, trying to clear it. I couldn't think about that now. I had to focus. Today had to be better than yesterday.
When the car pulled up in front of the building, I took a deep breath before stepping out.
Inside, the lobby was already busy. Models coming and going. Staff rushing around with clipboards and garment bags.
I made my way to the dressing room and found an empty locker. I put my bag inside and quickly changed into the black practice bodysuit and leggings.
When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized myself.
I looked like a model. Or at least, I was starting to.
I walked out to the training floor.
Marco was already there, tapping his pen against his clipboard impatiently. A few other models were stretching near the mirrors. I recognized them from yesterday. The ones who'd whispered about me.
"Hart!" Marco called out. "You're here. Good. Let's not waste time. We're starting with walks again."
My stomach twisted.
"You're up first," he added.
Of course I was.
I stepped onto the runway, my heart pounding. I could feel everyone watching me. Waiting for me to fail again.
But this time, I didn't let the fear take over.
I thought about Alex's cold warning. About the debt I owed. About how I couldn't afford to fail at this too.
I started walking.
One foot in front of the other. Shoulders back. Head high. I focused on my breathing, on keeping my movements fluid instead of stiff.
When I reached the end, I turned and walked back.
Marco was silent.
I stopped in front of him, bracing myself.
"Better," he said finally.
I blinked. "What?"
"I said better. Still not great, but better." He made a note on his clipboard. "Your posture improved. You're not stomping anymore. Keep working on loosening your hips."
"Thank you," I breathed.
He waved me off. "Don't thank me yet. You've got a long way to go. Next!"
I stepped aside, my legs shaky but my chest lighter.
Better.
He'd said better.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of corrections and repetitions. Walk after walk. Pose after pose.
When Lena called me over for test shots, I was exhausted but determined.
"Let's try this again," she said, adjusting her camera. "Relax your shoulders. Soften your expression."
I tried. I really tried.
She snapped several photos, then lowered the camera to review them.
"Hmm." She zoomed in on one. "You're getting there. Still too tense, but I can see progress."
Progress.
That word felt like a lifeline.
"Thank you," I said.
"Don't get comfortable," Lena warned. "Progress means you're not failing anymore. It doesn't mean you're succeeding yet."
"I understand."
She nodded and moved on to the next model.
I stood off to the side, catching my breath.
Across the room, I noticed two of the models watching me. The black haired one and the blonde.
They were whispering to each other.
I braced myself for more mockery.
But then the black haired one said, loud enough for me to hear, "She's getting better."
The blonde nodded. "Yeah. I thought she'd quit by now."
"Maybe she actually wants this."
It wasn't praise. But it wasn't cruelty either.
It was an acknowledgment.
And somehow, that felt like a victory.
By the time Marco dismissed us, I was sore and exhausted but strangely proud.
I'd survived another day. And I'd improved.
I changed back into my regular clothes, packed my things, and headed for the exit.
The afternoon sun hit my face as I pushed open the glass door.
And then I froze.
Someone was walking in at the exact same moment.
Our eyes met.
Nathan.
My breath caught.
He looked just as surprised as I felt. Then his face broke into a warm, genuine smile.
"Elena?"
My mind raced.
What was Nathan doing here? At Blake Modeling Enterprise? Did he work here? Did he know someone here?
And then Alex's voice echoed in my head, sharp and cold.
Stay away from Nathan.
"Nathan," I stammered. "What... what are you doing here?"
His smile widened, but there was something in his expression. Something I couldn't quite read.
"I could ask you the same thing," he said.
We stood there, blocking the doorway. People passed around us, glancing curiously.
My pulse pounded in my ears.
This couldn't be happening.
Not here. Not now.
Not when Alex had just warned me this morning.