The fake engagement meant appearances. Appearances meant staying by his side. And staying by his side meant moving into his penthouse overlooking the Thames.
The apartment was a palace of glass and steel, with London's skyline glittering like jewels beyond the windows.
"This is temporary," she muttered as she set her suitcase down.
Alexander smirked. "Everything is temporary… until it isn't."
The first nights were unbearable. Shared breakfasts where silence crackled louder than words. Late evenings where they worked side by side, their shoulders brushing, their gazes lingering too long.
And one night, when a storm raged outside, Elena stepped onto the balcony. Lightning lit the sky, and she whispered to herself, "What am I doing here?"
Alexander's voice came from behind her. Low. Raw. "The same thing I am. Fighting against what we want."
When she turned, the look in his eyes told her the fight wouldn't last much longer.