The echo of the slammed door faded, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. For a moment, neither of us moved. Then, Kaelen let out a long, slow breath, the rigid line of his shoulders finally relaxing. He turned to me, the icy mask melting away to reveal a look of sheer, unvarnished admiration. A slow, genuine smile touched his lips.
"Remind me never to get on your bad side," he murmured, his voice a low, warm rumble.
He leaned in, capturing my lips with his again. This kiss was different from the quick, possessive peck I'd given him. It was slower, deeper, a silent communication of pride, relief, and a rekindled fire that Bella's intrusion had failed to extinguish.
When we finally parted, I felt a little breathless. The reality of the situation settled back over me, the domestic bubble well and truly popped. I placed my hands on his chest and gently pushed myself up from the sofa.
"Alright," I said, my tone shifting to something more practical, though a playful glint remained in my eyes. "I've gotta go now."
His smile vanished, replaced by a faint frown. "Go? Elara, stay." His hand caught mine, his thumb stroking my knuckles. "The drama is over. Stay."
I squeezed his hand before pulling mine away, walking toward the bedroom to retrieve my things. I glanced back over my shoulder, giving him a look of mock scandalization. "After that scene? Bella would tear me into pieces if I stayed the night. Besides, Mr. Vancourt," I added, feigning a prim tone, "staying over at your place so soon after our 'engagement'? What would the public say? That's not really appropriate now, is it? Think of the scandal."
He watched me, a knowing look in his eyes. He saw right through my teasing to the underlying truth—I needed to re-establish my own space, my own fortress, on my own terms. Our alliance was stronger than ever, but I was not yet ready to simply move into his world. I needed to build ourworld.
He didn't push further. Instead, he nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Alright. I'll take you home." He paused, then added, his voice dropping to that low, intent register that promised futures, "We should really get our own place soon. Somewhere that has nothing to do with the Vancourts or the Sterlings. Somewhere that is just… us."
The words hung in the air between us, not a vague suggestion but a concrete plan. A shared goal. It was the perfect note to end on—not a goodbye, but a promise of a new beginning, one we would build together, away from the ghosts and the gatecrashers.
The Sterling mansion felt different when I walked in. It felt like a while ago when I left, on Mark's call. Things were so different now. I dropped my bag by my bedroom door and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the glittering skyline. Somewhere out there, Kaelen was likely doing the same, and the thought sent a shiver of connection through me. We were no longer two separate entities battling our way toward each other; we were a single unit, planning our next move.
My phone buzzed on the coffee table. A text from an unknown number.
Unknown: You think you've won? You have no idea what you've started. He will see you for the gold-digging whore you are.
A cold smile touched my lips. Bella, of course. The green-tea bitch had evaporated, leaving only the venom beneath. I didn't respond. I didn't block the number. I simply saved the contact as 'Bella Smith - Pending Resolution'. Let her send her poison. Every message was another piece of evidence, another thread I could pull when the time was right. She was reacting. We were planning.
I was about to put the phone down when it buzzed again, this time with a call. Kaelen's name flashed on the screen, and the coldness in my chest instantly melted into warmth.
"Miss me already, Mr. Vancourt?" I answered, my voice laced with a smile.
"Constantly," his voice was a low, intimate rumble through the line, devoid of its usual boardroom steel. "I'm looking at real estate."
My breath caught. He wasn't wasting a single moment. "Real estate?"
"For a place. Our place. I had my realtor pull a few potential lots. Near Sterling mansion. Penthouse views, but with land. A private garden. A studio for you."
He was building us a future, brick by digital brick. And he was doing it with me. But a new idea, perfect and complete, bloomed in my mind. It wasn't just about finding a house; it was about planting a flag.
A slow, knowing smile spread across my face, even though he couldn't see it. "Kaelen," I said softly. "It doesn't have to be near Sterling mansion."
A pause on the other end. "I said I won't take you away from your home. You can stay near your father."
"You did. But that was before you said 'ours'. This place… it shouldn't be in the shadow of my family's legacy any more than it should be in yours." I took a steadying breath, the idea solidifying into certainty. "I have an idea."
"Tell me."
"The Island Residence."
Silence. I could almost hear the gears turning in his brilliant, strategic mind.
I pressed on, the businesswoman in me seamlessly merging with the woman in love. "Think about it. It's our first major project together. The cornerstone of the Sterling-Vancourt Alliance. What better way to show unshakable confidence in our venture than by making it our home? We'd be the first residents. It would send a message to every investor, every buyer, that we have absolute faith in what we're building. That we're not just selling them a property; we're inviting them into our vision."
I let the implications hang in the digital space between us—the powerful corporate statement, the ultimate personal commitment.
"And most importantly," I added, my voice dropping to a whisper, "it would be ours. From the ground up. The first home for the first true alliance between our families. It wouldn't be a Vancourt address or a Sterling neighborhood. It would be… our kingdom."
The silence on the other end stretched, but it wasn't empty. It was filled with the electric hum of a perfect idea being recognized.
When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with a potent mix of awe and fierce pride. "Elara Sterling… you are utterly brilliant."
The warmth that flooded me was more potent than any victory over Bella. This was creation. This was us, building something that would outlast all our enemies.
"It's settled then," he said, and I could hear the click of a laptop closing, the blueprints for other properties being dismissed forever. "The penthouse on the north cliff. The one with the private elevator to the beach. I'm having the designs drawn up for us tomorrow."
"We are having the designs drawn up," I corrected gently, a thrill coursing through me.
I could hear the smile in his voice. "We are. Goodnight, love. Dream of our island."
As I ended the call, I looked out at the night sky, no longer seeing the familiar skyline of the city, but the endless, dark ocean and the silhouette of an island waiting for us to come home. Bella's venomous text was forgotten. She was fighting for a man in a penthouse. We were building a dynasty on an island. The scale of our battles was no longer the same.