Morning sunlight pierced through the floor-to-ceiling windows, spilling gold across the penthouse marble floors. Elise stood in front of the mirror, fastening the final button of her tailored white blouse. She looked every inch the composed, untouchable woman the world now demanded her to be.
But inside, she was raw nerves and quickened heartbeat. Last night's overheard conversation still clung to her mind like smoke. "Or your marriage will be the least of your problems." The words replayed over and over. Who had threatened Vincent? What wasn't he telling her?
She didn't want to care. She wanted to believe it wasn't her burden. And yet, the truth gnawed at her ribs: whatever shadow haunted him now haunted her too.
The door opened. Vincent entered, jacket draped across his arm, immaculate as always. He stopped briefly, eyes lingering on her.
"You're ready."
Her voice was clipped. "I've always been ready. You're the one dragging me into appearances I never asked for."
He ignored her jab. "We're attending the charity luncheon today. The press will be there. High society will be there. Every word, every glance will matter."
Elise crossed her arms. "Then let's give them a show they'll never forget."
---
The limousine pulled up to the Rosemont Hotel, a palace of glass and roses where the city's elite gathered to sip champagne and trade power like currency. The moment Vincent helped Elise out, cameras exploded in a storm of light.
"Elise! Over here!"
"Mrs. Moreau, are you happy in your marriage?"
"Is this love—or strategy?"
Elise's smile was flawless, though inside she burned. She slid her hand into Vincent's arm, her posture regal. "Smile," he murmured through clenched teeth.
She tilted her head toward him, lips curling. "Ladies first."
Inside, the ballroom was dazzling, chandeliers scattering prisms of light across polished marble. The air buzzed with chatter, laughter, and the subtle venom of gossip. Elise could feel eyes following her every step, dissecting her every move.
A woman in a silk gown approached, her smile sugar-sweet. "Elise, dear, you must tell us—what's it like being married to the city's most notorious bachelor?"
Elise's lips curved into a smile sharp enough to cut. "Exhausting," she replied smoothly. "But then again, so is taming lions. Worthwhile, if you don't lose an arm."
Laughter rippled, though some gasps followed. Vincent's jaw flexed, but his arm never left hers. To the crowd, it looked like a moment of playful banter. To Elise, it was a battle won.
---
The luncheon dragged, speeches flowing, champagne sparkling. But Elise noticed something beneath the glitter. Several men in dark suits lingered at the edges of the room, their eyes scanning not just Vincent but her as well. Their stares were too sharp, too calculating to belong to curious socialites.
She leaned closer to Vincent, whispering without moving her lips. "You see them?"
His hand tightened slightly on hers. "Ignore it."
"Ignoring things tends to make them worse."
He glanced at her then, his mask cracking just enough for her to see the steel underneath. "Do as I say."
She wanted to argue, but the warning in his eyes silenced her. Still, her pulse quickened. The threat she'd overheard wasn't imaginary. It was real—and it was here.
---
That evening, back at the penthouse, Elise tore off her heels and stormed into the living room. Vincent followed, loosening his tie.
"You knew!" she snapped. "Those men at the luncheon—they weren't investors. They were watching us. Watching me. Who are they?"
His voice was calm, too calm. "Not your concern."
"The hell it isn't my concern! I'm tied to you now, remember? If someone's coming after you, they're coming after me too."
For the first time, Vincent's composure faltered. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing like a predator trapped in his own cage. "You don't understand, Elise. There are things—things you shouldn't get involved in."
She stepped closer, anger burning through her fear. "Then explain it. Stop hiding behind silence and arrogance. What are you so afraid of?"
His head snapped up, eyes blazing. "You think I'm afraid?"
"Yes!" she shot back. "For once, drop the mask and admit you're human."
The air between them sizzled, thick with fury and something far more dangerous. Vincent's chest rose and fell sharply, his face inches from hers. Elise's breath caught, her pulse racing.
For one treacherous moment, the anger twisted into something electric, something that made her throat tighten and her knees weaken. His gaze flicked to her lips, and she hated herself for noticing.
But then, with a ragged breath, Vincent stepped back. "You want truth?" His voice was hoarse now, stripped of its armor. "Fine. The men you saw—are enemies. Powerful ones. They want control of my company, my empire. And they'll use you to get to me."
The words landed like a thunderclap. Elise staggered, gripping the back of the sofa. "Use me… how?"
"Leverage," he said bitterly. "If they can fracture us, if they can prove this marriage is fragile, they'll exploit it. They'll drag you into their game, destroy your reputation, and leave you broken. That's what you signed into."
Elise's throat tightened. "And you didn't think to warn me?"
"I thought I could shield you." His voice cracked at the edges now, raw. "But maybe I was wrong."
Silence fell, heavy and suffocating.
---
Later that night, Elise couldn't sleep. She stood by the window, city lights burning like fireflies below. Vincent's words haunted her. Leverage. Destroy you. Broken.
For the first time since this ordeal began, she wasn't sure if hatred was enough to survive this marriage. Because beneath the fury and the power plays, there was something else—something binding them together against a world hungry for their downfall.
She turned—and froze. Vincent stood in the doorway, barefoot, tie undone, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion.
"You should rest," he said softly.
"So should you."
He stepped closer, the dim light tracing the sharp lines of his face. For once, he looked less like a tyrant and more like a man carrying too much weight.
"Elise…" His voice faltered, and he looked away, as though the words he wanted to say were too dangerous.
Her heart hammered. Against her will, she took a step toward him. The distance between them shrank until the air itself seemed to hum.
For a breathless moment, their walls cracked. Chains loosened. The world outside ceased to exist.
But just as quickly, Vincent's phone rang, shattering the spell. He turned away sharply, answering in clipped tones. Elise swallowed the lump in her throat, retreating to the window.
She knew then: whatever storm bound them together was only growing stronger. And whether it ended in ruin or salvation, neither of them would escape unscathed.
---
Cliffhanger Ending – Chapter 10
The press and society are circling like sharks, their enemies are moving in the shadows, and their personal defenses are cracking. Elise begins to wonder: is falling for Vincent the greatest danger of all—or the only way to survive?