The door opened quietly as they stepped out of the private room, the warmth of that confined space fading almost instantly into the more composed atmosphere of the main dining area.
Neither of them spoke.
There was nothing left to say.
Their footsteps remained measured as they walked back, the faint sound of cutlery and distant conversations blending into the background, yet neither of them seemed to notice it.
Alaric walked slightly ahead at first, then slowed just enough for Elena to fall into step beside him, not out of courtesy but something closer to habit, something he didn't bother questioning.
Her words still lingered in his mind.
Hate is one of the easier ones.
The thought surfaced again, uninvited.
He pushed it aside.
The private dining room door came into view.
Closed but waiting for them.
For a brief second, Alaric's hand paused on the handle.
Not hesitation.
Just… awareness.
Because whatever came next… would seal this facade.
He pushed the door open.
The room fell silent the moment they stepped inside.
Every gaze shifted toward them almost instantly, conversations dying in middle, attention sharpening with quiet anticipation.
Edward Williams didn't move, but his eyes were already on them, assessing, calculating, as though he could read the outcome before a single word was spoken.
Victor Vaughn leaned back slightly, his expression composed but alert, while Eleanor sat poised beside him, her gaze flickering briefly toward Elena before settling again.
Lucien didn't bother hiding his scrutiny.
Clara, however, was watching differently… her eyes moving between the two of them, searching for something beneath the surface. What exactly happened between them?
Alaric returned to his seat without a word, his expression as controlled as ever.
Elena followed, settling into her place with the same quiet composure she had carried throughout the evening.
Nothing in her demeanor suggested anything had changed.
But something had.
The silence stretched, thin but deliberate, as if no one wanted to be the first to break it.
Until… "Well?"
Edward's voice cut through, calm, direct.
All eyes shifted again.
Alaric didn't answer immediately.
His gaze moved briefly across the table before settling somewhere neutral, unreadable.
"We've spoken," he said at last.
It wasn't an answer.
Not really.
But it was enough.
A faint shift passed through the room, subtle but noticeable.
Victor's fingers tapped once against the table before stilling, while Lucien's jaw tightened slightly, his eyes narrowing as if trying to read between words that weren't being said.
Clara leaned back just a little, her attention now sharper than before.
Edward, however, simply watched them.
Then… his gaze moved to Elena.
"And?"
Elena met his eyes without hesitation, her expression calm, unchanged.
"I accept," she said. "No objection from my side."
Simple.
Clear.
Final.
That was all it took.
Something settled in the room.
Not relief.
Not satisfaction.
Something more… definitive.
Edward gave a slight nod, as if confirming something he had already decided long before this evening began.
"Then we proceed with this arrangement."
The words landed with quiet authority.
Alaric didn't react.
Didn't look at her.
Didn't say anything more.
But for the whole time being here this evening… he didn't feel like he fully understood the person sitting across from him.
And that… was going to matter.
Everyone present understood that something irreversible had just been set into motion.
Edward Williams leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze moving between Alaric and Elena, measuring, calculating.
"Then we won't delay this any further," he said, his tone calm but absolute. "Within the next two weeks, the engagement ceremony will be arranged."
A pause followed, just long enough for the weight of his words to register.
"And on that day," he continued, "there will be an official press conference. The world will be informed of this union."
Lucien's expression darkened slightly.
Victor remained still, though his attention sharpened.
Across the table, Alaric's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
Edward did not stop.
"But understand this," he added, his voice lowering just enough to command complete attention, "this must not appear as a business arrangement."
His gaze shifted directly to the two of them.
"It needs to look natural. Convincing."
A brief silence followed.
"Which means," Edward said, his tone now carrying a quiet finality, "the two of you will have to play your roles."
Alaric's eyes narrowed slightly.
"In public," Edward continued, "you are not strangers bound by obligation." He took a moment to declare. "You are two people in love."
The words lingered in the air, almost ironic in their contrast to everything that had just transpired.
Elena didn't react. Didn't question. Didn't resist.
Alaric let out a slow breath, his gaze dropping briefly before lifting again, this time sharper.
"And if we don't?" He asked.
Edward's expression didn't change.
"You will," He replied simply.
No threat.
No explanation.
Just certainty.
The room fell quiet again, but this time the silence carried something heavier… the expectation, the pressure and its inevitability.
Elena finally spoke.
"And what exactly would you consider… convincing?" She asked, her tone calm, as though she were discussing logistics rather than something far more personal.
Edward's gaze softened just slightly, though the authority behind it remained.
"Appear together in public places. Be seen together as if you are in love," he said. "Let people believe what they see." He looked at everyone. "Everything else will follow."
Elena gave a small nod, as if that was answer enough.
Across from her, Alaric didn't move.
Didn't agree.
Didn't refuse.
But the thought settled in anyway.
Love.
The very thing that didn't exist between them… was now something they were expected to perform.
And somehow… that felt more suffocating than the marriage itself.
So that's what she wants to do… a performance.
The thought settled in slowly, his gaze flickering toward her for the briefest moment before returning to the table.
Fine.
If she wanted to play along… he would let her.
A faint shift passed through him, subtle enough to go unnoticed by everyone in the room.
Let her believe this will be easy.
Because it wouldn't be.
If this is what our future looks like… Then she would learn it the hard way.
I'll give her a taste of what our future will be.