The conference hall buzzed with low voices and polished smiles, a sea of power and wealth gathered under crystal chandeliers. Elena stood beside Victor, her posture elegant, her expression neutral. Inside, however, her nerves were stretched thin.
This wasn't a party.
This was a battlefield.
Victor's hand rested lightly at the small of her back as they moved through the room, guiding her with subtle pressure. The touch was casual to anyone watching, but Elena felt the message clearly.
Stay close.
"You're tense," Victor murmured without looking at her.
"I'm fine," she replied through a polite smile.
He glanced at her. "You lie often."
Before she could respond, a familiar voice cut through the air.
"Victor."
Camilla stood near the bar, dressed in a sleek navy gown this time, eyes sharp and amused.
"Elena," she added, nodding coolly.
Elena returned the nod, refusing to show discomfort.
"You didn't tell me you'd bring her," Camilla said lightly, lifting her glass.
Victor's grip tightened almost imperceptibly. "I don't report my choices."
Camilla laughed softly. "Still territorial, I see."
Victor turned fully toward her. "Only when necessary."
The atmosphere shifted. Conversations nearby quieted, attention subtly drawn.
Elena felt it the invisible line being drawn.
Throughout the evening, Victor stayed close, his presence unmistakable. When Elena spoke to others, he remained within arm's reach. When Camilla approached, Victor's body angled protectively toward Elena, blocking without appearing obvious.
Finally, Elena pulled away.
"I need some air," she said quietly.
Victor studied her for a long moment. "Don't wander."
"I won't," she replied and walked away anyway.
On the balcony, cool air hit her face. She exhaled shakily, gripping the railing. She needed space. Control. Something that belonged to her.
Footsteps approached.
She didn't turn. "I said I needed air."
"Careful," Camilla's voice purred. "You might mistake independence for rebellion."
Elena faced her slowly. "Is that a threat?"
Camilla smiled thinly. "It's advice. Victor doesn't like being challenged."
"Then why do you keep doing it?" Elena asked calmly.
The smile slipped. "Because I know him."
"So do I," Elena said before she could stop herself.
Camilla's eyes hardened. "No. You know what he allows you to see."
Before Elena could respond, Victor's voice cut in.
"That's enough."
He stepped onto the balcony, his presence immediate and commanding.
Camilla lifted her brows. "I was just talking."
"You were provoking," Victor corrected coolly.
He turned to Elena, his expression unreadable. "I told you not to wander."
She met his gaze. "I needed space."
"From me?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," she admitted.
Something dark flickered in his eyes but instead of anger, there was restraint.
Victor turned back to Camilla. "Excuse us."
He took Elena's wrist not painfully, but firmly and led her back inside, ignoring the stares.
Once they reached a quiet corridor, he released her.
"You crossed a line," he said lowly.
"So did you," she shot back. "You don't own my every move."
His jaw tightened. "In public, perception matters."
"And what about me?" she demanded. "Do I matter or am I just a statement?"
Silence stretched between them.
Victor finally spoke, his voice quieter. "You matter more than you think. That's the problem."
Her breath caught.
"I don't like losing control," he continued. "And you… make it difficult."
She searched his face, seeing something real beneath the dominance.
"Then stop trying to control everything," she said softly.
He stared at her, conflicted.
"Next time," he said finally, "you don't walk away without telling me."
"I won't promise that," she replied.
A slow, dangerous smile touched his lips. "Good. I don't trust easy obedience."
They returned to the hall together, tension thick between them, unspoken and undeniable.
Across the room, Camilla watched, her expression cold.
The lines had been drawn.
And this time, Elena wasn't sure she wanted to step back.