Elena pushed her door open, already loosening the tension in her shoulders and stopped.
What the heck!
Her room was no longer hers.
All the drawers stood open. Fabric lay in careful stacks across the bed. A suitcase… which is hers, was half packed, half waiting to be filled. A few unfamiliar women moved around quietly, efficiently, precisely, as if they had done this a hundred times before.
And at the center of it all stood Eleanor.
"Oh, you're here," she said, turning with a smile that came too easily. "Good. We still have four hours. That should be enough to get you ready for your vacation with Alaric."
Elena didn't step forward.
Her gaze moved slowly across the room, taking in the details… the branded kits from her favorite salon placed neatly on the dresser, the jewelry laid out in pairs, the heels already matched with outfits she hadn't chosen.
Everything decided.
Without her.
"What is going on?" She asked.
Her voice wasn't loud.
But it wasn't soft either.
Eleanor walked toward her, the sweetness still resting on her lips as she closed the distance, stopping just close enough to lower her voice without drawing attention.
"We've been waiting for you," she said quietly. "You need to get ready for your trip." Her eyes flicked briefly toward the maids before returning to Elena. "You need to look perfect. From head to toe."
Elena held her gaze. "I don't think that's necessary."
The smile didn't disappear.
It changed.
She could see the anger forming at the edges of her fake smile.
"Don't start," Eleanor said under her breath. "This isn't a discussion." She took a moment, just enough for the words to settle. "It's your father's order."
Elena didn't react.
"...And you will follow it."
For a second, neither of them moved.
Then… Elena smiled.
Just enough to show she heard her.
"What does he want?" She asked, her tone light in a way that didn't match her eyes. "Should I act like some whore?" A slight tilt of her head. "He wants me to seduce him?"
There was no shock on Eleanor's face.
Only approval.
"Good," she said softly. "At least you're not pretending to be naïve." Her gaze moved over Elena again, slow, assessing. "This is your chance. Don't waste it."
Her hand lifted, brushing an imaginary crease from Elena's sleeve.
"Be smart," she added, quieter now. "This marriage secures everything."
Elena didn't look down at her hand.
Didn't move away.
"Everything for whom?" She asked.
Eleanor's fingers stilled for just a fraction… then withdrew.
"For the family," she replied.
Of course.
Elena gave a small nod, as if that answered something.
It didn't.
But as always it was enough.
"Alright," she said.
The simplicity of her answer made Eleanor pause.
"Good," Eleanor said again, more satisfied this time, turning slightly toward the others. "Start with her hair."
The room came alive instantly. Hands reached for brushes, palettes, fabrics.
Elena stood where she was for a moment longer before allowing herself to be guided forward, her reflection catching briefly in the mirror as someone pulled a chair out for her.
She looked the same. Composed and untouched… just like Alaric said… a doll with a key wound.
She had heard him scream that… And now she couldn't agree more.
Only her eyes lingered on her own reflection for a second longer… as if trying to recognize the person sitting there.
Then she looked away.
And let them begin.
_____________________________
Elena stepped out of the car, the evening air brushing lightly against her skin as she straightened, her gaze already lifting toward the private jet waiting ahead.
Then she noticed them.
A little distance away, Alaric stood with his father, their conversation low but intense, the kind that didn't need raised voices to carry weight. Daniel Hale's posture was rigid, his expression tight, while Alaric stood facing him, jaw set, listening… but not entirely agreeing.
As if sensing her presence, both of them looked up.
Their gazes landed on her and just like that, their conversation ended.
They started walking toward her.
"Good evening, Elena," Daniel said as he approached her with his polite, controlled tone. "I hope you're doing well."
Elena met his gaze, offering a small, composed nod. "Likewise, Mr. Hale."
She noticed the brief awkward moment, one of those moments where politeness sat on the surface but something else lingered underneath.
"I hope," Daniel continued, his eyes moving briefly between her and his son, "that both of you understand the purpose of this trip."
Alaric let out a quiet scoff beside him but Elena didn't react to it. Instead, she looked at Daniel directly.
"Do you?" She asked. The question landed unexpectedly. "I mean," she added, her tone was calm, almost thoughtful, "do you actually want this to work?" A faint smirk on her face. "Or are your thoughts closer to your son's?"
Silence fell among them. For a brief second, neither of them responded.
Alaric's brows drew together slightly, not expecting her to say that out loud.
Daniel, on the other hand, simply looked at her… longer this time, more carefully, as if reassessing something he hadn't fully considered before.
But Elena didn't wait.
"I'll board the plane first," she said, her voice polite again, as if the question hadn't carried any weight at all. "Please excuse me."
And just like that… she walked past them.
Her steps were steady, her posture straight, her expression unchanged, as she moved toward the jet, her suitcase rolling quietly behind her.
Neither of them stopped her.
For a moment, they just stood there.
"Sorry, Dad," Alaric muttered after a second, running a hand through his hair. "She's… like that."
Daniel didn't respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed in the direction Elena had walked. Then he exhaled slowly.
"It should be me apologizing," he said.
Alaric looked at him.
"I failed to protect you from this," Daniel continued, his voice quieter now. "From what comes with this world… these decisions." He sighed. "Because of me, you're walking into a marriage without love."
Alaric shook his head lightly, dismissing it before it could settle. "It's fine," he said. "You saved Mom. That's enough for me."
There was no hesitation in his voice.
"Go home," he added after a moment. "She'll be worried. Tell her I'll be fine."
Daniel studied him for a second longer, as if wanting to say something more… but didn't.
Instead, he gave a small nod.
Alaric turned and headed toward the jet.
Inside, the cabin was quiet, dimly lit, designed for comfort more than anything else. Elena was already seated, her posture relaxed, her attention seemingly elsewhere, as if she had stepped into a different space entirely the moment she boarded.
Alaric took the seat beside her.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
But…
What he didn't notice… what neither of them did… was the discreet movement near the edge of the runway.
A figure lowering a camera…
Click!
Somewhere far from the runway… someone was already deciding how those moments would be seen.