11:00 PM in London meant 6:00 AM in Jakarta.
Elena had just finished showering and was wrapping her hair in a towel when her phone on the nightstand vibrated violently. The name "Ririn (The Jaksel Queen)" flashed on the screen, accompanied by a profile picture of the two of them laughing over cups of boba. Elena smiled faintly. She desperately needed Ririn's chaotic energy to neutralize the frantic drumming of her heart, courtesy of Arthur.
Elena swiped the green button. The screen immediately filled with Ririn's face—fully made-up but looking utterly stressed. In the background was the quintessential Jakarta vista: rows of glowing red brake lights in the middle of Kuningan traffic and motorbike couriers weaving through side mirrors.
"ELENAAAA! Are you serious? You just picked up now?! I've been growing moss waiting for an update in the middle of this Kuningan gridlock!" Ririn screamed without so much as a hello. A chorus of car horns blared in the background.
Elena laughed, collapsing onto her soft flat bed. "Relax, Rin. I just got back from dinner with... Arthur."
Instantly, Ririn leaned so close to the camera that only her nose and wide eyes were visible. "HUH?! WHAT?! REPEAT THAT?! Dinner?! Where? Some fancy restaurant you have to book a month in advance? Or did he rent a private yacht on the Thames?"
"No, Rin. We had spicy noodles in Soho. A place called The Dragon's Breath," Elena replied, trying to sound casual even as her cheeks began to heat up.
Ririn went silent for a second, then exploded into laughter, accidentally hitting her head against the car window. "Ouch! God, that Arthur. Still using the 'Spice Club' moves. Does he still remember when you almost fainted eating level-five seblak in front of the school? Back when we were still using 'Aku-Kamu' and you'd blush every time he walked by?"
Elena chuckled at the jab. "He remembers everything, Rin. He even kept the silver sketching pencil I gave him. He carried it with him for seven years in London. Can you imagine?"
Ririn's laughter died down abruptly. Her expression turned dead serious—a rarity for her. "El... are you for real? That pencil? That means he never truly left, El. He was just 'keeping his distance' to become a giant. Gosh, this isn't K-Drama level anymore; this is heavy-duty Wattpad territory!"
Elena felt the shift in her own heart. Funny how they used to talk. Back in high school, they were two innocent girls using "Aku-Kamu"—sweet, polite, and soft. But as they grew up, as Elena moved to London and Ririn dived into the cutthroat agency world of South Jakarta, their language evolved. "Lo-Gue" became their secret code of closeness; it was the language of equals, of adults who were no longer the little girls that could be bullied by puppy love. To Elena, hearing "Lo-Gue" was the only way to truly feel like she was home.
"But he's changed, Rin," Elena whispered. "He's colder, darker. He said he had to become a 'monster' to get me back. It's scary, isn't it? Sometimes I miss the peace of those 'Aku-Kamu' days."
Ririn rolled her eyes, then screamed at a driver in front of her, "MOVE IT, MISTER! IT'S GREEN!" Back to the screen, she sighed. "Listen to me, my favorite architect. If a man becomes that successful and still keeps a trinket from his ex for seven years, he's not a monster. He's obsessed. And the Arthur Montgomery version of obsessed means you're either going to be protected to death or locked in a golden tower."
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," Elena muttered.
"Wait, but..." Ririn narrowed her eyes, returning to her gossip-detective mode. "Was there any kissing? At least an almost-kiss? Soho is romantic at night, very About Time vibes."
Elena remembered the moment by the Jaguar, Arthur's breath so close, her heart ready to leap out. "Almost. But a car horn ruined it."
Ririn slapped her steering wheel. "SON OF A—! Who honked?! Give me the plate number, I'll curse them online! El, it's a sign. The universe is giving you time to think. Don't go soft just because of spicy noodles and free milk!"
Elena smiled, feeling a bit lighter. "Thanks, Rin. Only you can make this feel ridiculous again."
"Always! Hey, I'm at the office. Remember, if Arthur acts up, call me. I'll fly to London with a stone mortar to bash that bule's head with some shrimp paste sambal. Love you, bye!"
The call ended. Elena stared at her dark screen. Ririn's laughter had provided a moment of oxygen, but as she went to close her eyes, a notification popped up.
Subject: Urgent: Project Montgomery Gallery - External Interference.
Elena sat bolt upright. The email was from her site assistant. It was short but devastating: Someone on behalf of the Montgomery Corp Board of Directors has just ordered an immediate halt on all designs containing 'foreign cultural elements' on the building's facade.
This was just the beginning. Arthur's family was moving, and they weren't using car horns to interfere—they were using power to erase her identity.
Elena threw her phone onto the bed, but the fire in her chest wouldn't go out. "Halt all designs containing foreign cultural elements." It wasn't just a technical instruction; it was an insult. It was the Montgomerys saying she didn't belong on their soil.
Without thinking, she grabbed her coat. She didn't care it was nearly midnight. She didn't care they had shared a truce just hours ago. She needed answers.
She flagged a taxi and gave the address of the Montgomery Corp headquarters. She knew Arthur often stayed in the penthouse upstairs when he worked late.
The lobby was empty, guarded only by a security officer who looked stunned to see her. "Miss Elena? Mr. Montgomery isn't taking visitors—"
"I'm not a visitor. I'm his betrayed architect," she snapped, stepping into the lift before he could argue.
Floor 42. The lift opened with a soft chime that sounded like a death knell. She marched toward Arthur's office. He was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to her, a glass of whisky in hand.
"Arthur!" she roared.
He turned slowly. He didn't look surprised. His face was back to that bronze, icy mask. "You should be asleep, Elena."
"Asleep? How can I sleep when your board just erased the Mega Mendung pattern from my design?!" She threw her bag onto the sofa. "You said you wanted this building to have a soul. Then you let your board send this? A ban on 'foreign' elements?"
Arthur sighed, setting his glass down. "That wasn't my order, Elena. It was my uncle, Julian Montgomery. The Chairman of the Board."
"And you're letting him?" Elena's voice rose to a screech. "You're the most powerful man in this company! You said you built a fortress to protect me. It turns out your fortress is made of cards that collapse the moment your uncle barks!"
Arthur stepped closer, his eyes flashing with suppressed rage. "You have no idea what I'm up against! Julian holds the majority of the old investors. If I fight him openly tonight, he'll pull the funding for the entire gallery tomorrow. You'll lose your contract, be deported because your visa is tied to this project, and your name will be mud in London!"
Elena froze. The word 'deported' hit her harder than expected. This wasn't just aesthetics; it was her life.
"So you're giving up?" she whispered. "Letting them erase me so you can stay the King of London?"
Arthur grabbed her shoulders. "I'm playing chess, Elena! I need you to be patient. Follow the orders on paper for now, but don't change the master files. I will handle the board."
Elena let out a bitter laugh, shaking him off. "Patient? Back in Jakarta, I was patient waiting for a text that never came. Now you want me to be patient while your family erases where I come from?"
"Elena, listen to me—"
"No, Arthur. I listened to Ririn. She was right," Elena used "Gue" again, a verbal barricade. "You're not the Arthur I knew. You're just part of their system now. You're a Montgomery, and I'm just a 'foreigner' who happens to be good at drawing."
She walked toward the door.
"If that pattern is gone from the facade tomorrow morning," she said without looking back, "then I'm gone from this project. Go find a local architect who's 'appropriate' enough for your uncle."
She slammed the door, leaving Arthur in the dark. Arthur punched his desk so hard the whisky glass shattered.
"Damn it!" he growled, dialing a number. "Prepare the documents for a hostile takeover of Julian's shares. Burn our entire cash reserve if you have to. I want him out of this company by morning."
Outside, the first snow of the year began to fall, covering the slushy streets. The cold felt sharper than ever.
The first snow in London was supposed to be romantic. Instead, the white flakes felt like ice needles. Elena walked away from the Montgomery building, her eyes dry but stinging from the cold.
She tried to call an Uber, but the app was stuck on "busy" due to the weather. Her phone buzzed. A message from Ririn.
Ririn (The Jaksel Queen):"El, you okay? I have a bad feeling. Just saw a story from Oliver's friend—he's in London for some art show. Be careful, don't let that snake near you!"
Elena sighed. Too late, Rin.
A black sedan pulled up. It wasn't her Uber. The window rolled down to reveal a man with a sharp jaw, perfectly coiffed blonde hair, and a smirk Elena hated—and feared.
"Elena? Is that really you?"
The world stopped. That voice. The posh British accent that had manipulated her for years.
"Oliver?" Elena stepped back, her heart racing with pure dread.
"Good God, Elena! You look... much more beautiful than the last time I saw you crying at Soekarno-Hatta airport." Oliver stepped out of the car, looking effortless in a camel overcoat.
"What are you doing here?"
"An exhibition at the Tate Modern. But never mind me," Oliver glanced at the Montgomery building. "I saw you walk out of there looking devastated. Still involved with Arthur? Hasn't he hurt you enough with his seven-year silence?"
"None of your business, Oliver. Leave."
"Elena, listen," Oliver reached for her hand. She recoiled. He lowered his voice, sounding sickeningly sympathetic. "I heard about the gallery. The Montgomerys are trying to push you out. Arthur won't help you, El. He's one of them. He's using you for a good design, then he'll toss you aside just like before."
"Shut up!"
"Come with me. Let's get coffee. I can drive you home. London is dangerous for a girl alone in the snow." He opened his car door.
Elena was at her breaking point. She hated Oliver, but she was furious with Arthur. She felt small and alone.
But before she could answer, a car screeched to a halt behind them. Arthur's black Jaguar nearly clipped Oliver's car. Arthur stepped out without a coat, his white shirt disheveled, his eyes burning with a primal fury.
"Get your hands off her, Oliver," Arthur growled.
Oliver laughed. "Oh, the hero arrives late. Didn't you just crush her dreams in there, Art? I'm just being a good friend to my ex-girlfriend."
Arthur stepped between Elena and Oliver. "She is not your ex. She is the woman you conned with your lies. If you touch her again, I'll make sure your show at the Tate never happens. I can close that gallery with one phone call."
The tension was so high the falling snow seemed to evaporate between them. Elena looked at the two men from her past—the monster she loved and the devil she hated.
"Elena, get in the car," Arthur ordered.
"She has a choice, Arthur," Oliver countered. "Elena, do you want to go with the man who erased your identity, or with me, who values your art?"
Elena looked at them both. She felt like a pawn in their game. A wave of pure nausea washed over her.
"I'm not going with anyone!" she screamed in Indonesian, leaving Oliver confused but Arthur stunned. "You're both the same! You're both bastards!"
She turned and ran into the snow, ignoring Arthur's shouts. She ran until her lungs burned, leaving her two ghosts standing frozen in the middle of the whitening London street.