In the days following their unspoken vow to keep their relationship secret, the public's curiosity about their connection only grew. The whispers behind closed doors, the speculation of their families, and the never-ending questions from the press created an atmosphere thick with tension. The world had seen their bond during the grand ball, the silent exchanges of gifts, the lingering glances and whispered words—but no one had guessed the true nature of what had transpired between them.
Their families, aware of the strain, had also done their part to keep the mystery alive. They would often speak of them in the same breath, as though they were destined to rule together, always emphasizing their mutual respect and shared responsibilities. But there were no mentions of what happened behind closed doors—nothing was ever revealed, and yet the unspoken understanding lingered.
Anastasia's parents would often pull her aside during official meetings, reminding her of the delicate balance they had achieved in building the empire. "You must remain the face of power, Anastasia. There can be no distractions," her father would say, his voice a little too calm, as though he already knew what was brewing beneath the surface.
Her mother, ever sharp, would watch her closely, her eyes searching for any hint of deviation. But Anastasia had learned the art of control—of maintaining the perfect mask while her heart beat for Vincent in secret. She knew that her personal life could never intrude upon the business of the empire, no matter how much she wished it could be otherwise.
And yet, every time Vincent appeared in public, every time their worlds collided at a family gathering or a business summit, her heart would race. She would fight to keep the blush from rising on her cheeks, to keep the tremble from her hands. He was there, always near, always within reach, but forever just out of grasp.