Third Person's POV
Isabel rose gracefully from the sofa, her smile was unfaltering in a thin line. She approached Elena as if to extend a hand of greeting but Elena didn't flinch. She did not move at all. Her pulse thudded in her chest, but her lips lifted into a faint, polite curve.
"Good evening," Elena said, her voice calm, even, and entirely devoid of any sign of the anxiety that was crippling her lungs. She didn't look away or tremble, even as Isabel stood in front of her. She simply sized Isabel up for a single moment, filing the details away at the back of her head. Blonde hair that was perfectly styled and a designer dress clinging to the right places, the faint scent of her expensive perfume and her face with full make up.
Then, without another word, Elena turned on her heel.
Alexander, who had remained silent as always, watched her as she climbed the stairs leading to her room, stoic as ever. There was no rescue coming from him. He never intervened; he simply observed, like a hawk assessing its prey and slowly, she was starting to expect less and less of him.
Elena's heels clicked against the polished floor as she walked past the other rooms, past the quiet hum of the penthouse, and toward her room. Every step was deliberate and a statement in itself. She was not going to give Isabel the satisfaction of seeing her flustered or upset.
She was not going to allow Alexander's household with his rules, and his carefully curated control to dictate her reaction.
Once inside her suite, Elena closed the door softly, letting the faint click echo like a small victory. She didn't sit or didn't slump against the bed even if her feet felt tired. Instead, she moved to the mirror stand, pulled her hair into a messy bun, peeled off her heels, and ordered some food from the building's kitchen. For some reason, she was hungry.
She texted Dennis after setting the telephone receiver down, keeping the message short with purpose:
Elena: I got home safely. Thank you so much for today.
Almost immediately, her phone buzzed with his response
Dennis: No worries. It was nice to see you again though. Maybe we should meet up soon and catch up?
Elena thought about it for a while. It wasn't as if she had anything to do and it didn't seem like Alexander would mind. He literally had his ex-girlfriend over. An ex that claimed to have his chile
Elena: I'll be free tomorrow. Meet me at the park near the fountain at noon.
He replies almost immediately, his reply gaining a smile from the corner of her lips.
Dennis: I'll be there. Don't worry, I'll find you.
Elena set the phone down and leaned against the balcony window, letting the city lights wash over her. Downstairs, Isabella was probably still around doing heaven knows what with her husband. Even referring to him as her husband in her thoughts seemed odd.
Dinner arrived, silently placed outside her door by one of the attendants who still refused to look her in the eye. She ate alone, famished from the events of the night. She had tasted the faint thrill of defiance by walking out on them unfazed and the feeling was so good that all she wanted to do was keep it up.
She didn't really care for the consequences. She would do whatever wifely duties she deemed important to their contract but apart from that, she would not be succumbing to his coldness. Hell, she would grow a chill of her own.
After dinner, Elena took a long bath, letting the warm water soothe the tension from her shoulders and all her bones. She let her mind replay her encounter with Daniel at the ball and Dennis in the hospital. Why were those people just coming into her life now?
She wondered if Dennis knew anything about her marriage. He didn't seem to be someone who listened to the news often or even minded about it but there must have been whispers that he could pick up on.
By the time she stepped out of the bath, she was way calmer than she expected. She wrapped a towel around her and dried her skin.
Her gaze drifted to the city skyline once more. The lights below and the endless stretch of streets, with people rushing around it. She had been one of those people just a few days ago before she got sucked into this place.
It was a not-so-subtle reminder that the Kane Tower, for all its eloquence, was only one bubble in an indifferent world. And she was determined to survive in it and not as a pawn.
She dressed in comfortable clothes, a soft silk night wear and settled on the couch with a notebook she kept tucked in her drawer. She began writing and doodling, something she did during her free time.
Hours passed quietly, until the faint hum of the elevator reminded her that life outside her suite still moved on. She took a small walk downstairs and found it empty. Probably Isabel had left, or rather, they had gone up to his own suite. She shook her head deciding not to care and went to the kitchen for some water.
Before turning in, she checked her phone again. Dennis had sent a message confirming the park meeting. She typed a quick reply:
Elena: See you there. And thank you.
She hit send and set the phone aside, feeling the faint warmth of anticipation that came from having an ally, someone on her side outside the walls of Kane Tower.
Sleep came eventually, but it was not dreamless. In the half-light of her room, she imagined confrontations with Isabel, imagined potential ways to navigate Alexander's stoic indifference, imagined herself refusing to be trapped.
Morning arrived with a soft wash of sunlight over the city and Elena rose early, ignoring the buzzing of the staff preparing breakfast below. She sat still at her desk for a while thinking about what she could occupy herself with before her meeting with Dennis in the afternoon.
Maybe she could discuss having a job with Alexander. Or she could just get a job without telling him. She doubted that he would like the idea of her working, but the entire point was not to please him anyways.
She lingered in her suite until mid-morning, checking messages from her friends and reading some tabloids.She reviewed a couple of notes, and occasionally glanced out the window while trying to read the books that were placed in the shelves.
Finally, she dressed, pulling on a light jacket and boots, her hair tied back in a bun. She stepped into the elevator, her mind focused on the one meeting she had arranged today with Dennis.She was banking on the fact that it would be fun and ordinary, something different from the life she had come to live.
At the fountain in the center of the park, she waited, scanning the crowd until she saw him. Dennis was leaning against a tree, he was staring at a duck in the distance until he spotted her approaching him with a warm, encouraging smile.
"Elena," he said as she reached him, "you made it."
"I did," she replied, her tone steady. She noticed the calm strength in his eyes and felt a rare moment of ease. "I wasn't going to let anything stop me."
"Stop you?" he frowned. "Do you live in a prison or something?" He asked with a small laugh.
He didn't seem to know about the marriage. Elena wondered if she should tell him or not. She was hardly going to find another person to have normal conversations with if she gave this one up. And what if he walked out on her because he didn't want trouble with the Kanes?
"No, I was just making a joke," She said finally, hating that she was lying to him. He didn't seem to find anything wrong though because he just smiled as they walked to a bench.
They talked for hours, quietly at first, about her mother's health, then gradually about Elena herself. She avoided talking about her current situation and even had to lie when he asked her where she worked because she doubted that he wouldn't see through the fact that she was able to fend for her mom while being jobless.
By the time she returned to Kane Tower, the sun had dipped low, casting long shadows across the streets. Elena's boots echoed against the marble as she stepped inside, ready for whatever the evening might bring.
She was on her way to her room when she saw him sitting on her chair in the vast parlour. Isabel was still around and with the different dress she had on, Elena could tell that she had either stayed the night or she had come back again.
"Where are you coming from?" His voice is anything but kind and his eyes are raging with anger. I do not respond but I also do not move to leave his presence.
"I asked you a question." There is anger in his tone now as he moves towards me, some papers in his hands.
He is a few steps away from me when he thunders, "Who the hell is Dennis?"