The ride back from the gala was quiet, but it wasn't peaceful. Elena sat by the tinted window, her gown pooling around her feet, her reflection fractured by the blur of city lights. Every camera flash from earlier still lingered in her head. The questions shouted at them on the red carpet echoed in her ears.
Mr. Knight, who is she?
Is this your new mistress?
Are you serious about her?
Alexander hadn't flinched once. His hand had rested firmly at her back, his responses smooth, calculated, and rehearsed for the world: She is with me.
Elena swallowed. With him. That was the role she had agreed to play, but the weight of it was only now sinking in.
"Stop overthinking," Alexander's voice broke through her thoughts. He sat across from her in the car, legs crossed, jacket off but still impossibly composed. "We did exactly what we planned to. Every eye was on us. Every headline tomorrow will confirm it."
Elena let out a shaky laugh. "Confirm that I'm your mistress?"
His gaze sharpened, and he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Yes.That I chose you. And when the time comes, we'll flip the story to our advantage. Adrian and Vivian will choke on their own lies before this is done."
His certainty both unsettled and steadied her. She wanted to believe him, but the memory of Vivian's glare across the ballroom had been ice-cold, sharp enough to cut.
Back at the penthouse, Elena slipped off her heels the moment they walked in. The silence of the vast space pressed down on her, a stark contrast to the glittering chaos of the gala.
"Do you think it worked?" she asked, her voice soft but tinged with dread.
Alexander loosened his tie, watching her carefully. "It worked. Trust me, Elena, appearances are everything in this world. And tonight, you weren't invisible. You were unforgettable."
Elena turned away, hugging herself. "But at what cost? Tomorrow, my parents could see me in those papers. They'll think I've—"
He cut her off gently but firmly. "They'll think you've stepped into my world. Which you have. And I told you, this is temporary. We'll let Vivian and Adrian trap themselves in their own narrative. But until then, you have to stay close to me."
The words landed heavier than she expected. Close. Safe. Watched. Owned?
"Close," she repeated under her breath, tasting the double edge of the word.
Alexander poured himself a drink, his movements calm, deliberate. "It's the first step, Elena. The gala was only the beginning. The world now knows you exist. Next, we show them you belong."
Her heart thudded painfully. She remembered the way his hand lingered on her back at the gala, the way his touch had anchored her in the storm of flashing cameras. It had felt staged, but it hadn't felt empty. And that was the problem.
She finally met his eyes, trying to keep her voice steady. "And if I can't keep up with your world?"
Alexander took a slow sip of his drink before answering, his gaze never leaving hers. "Then you'll have to decide whether to walk away now… or see this through with me until the end."
The silence that followed was heavy, charged. Elena's chest tightened. She had already chosen once, tonight proved that. But standing there, in the aftermath of their debut, she couldn't tell whether she was still acting… or already losing herself to something dangerously real.