Elena's POV
The hallway was quiet—eerily so. Just beyond the double doors, the world waited. Cameras. Reporters. Former allies. Enemies with pens.
But here, in this brief, breathless space, it was just us.
Julian leaned against the wall beside me, hands in his pockets, his tie slightly loosened like he'd run out of ways to hide how tightly he was wound.
I glanced at him. "You okay?"
He let out a short breath, almost a laugh. "You're the one about to take down a corporation on live television. Shouldn't I be asking you that?"
"I'm fine," I said. Then paused. "No. I'm not. But I'm ready."
He turned to face me fully. "You don't have to prove anything to anyone anymore, Elena."
"I'm not doing it for them."
His eyes met mine. And for a moment, everything else fell away. The noise. The stakes. The war.
Just us.
"I keep thinking about that night," he said quietly. "The first one. In the hotel."
I said nothing. But my heart picked up.
