chapter 81
Elena's POV:
I hesitated at the grand entrance, watching my breath form small clouds in the evening air.
The chill had already begun seeping through the thin silk of my dress, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself, mindful of the gentle swell beneath the fabric. Five months along, and the baby seemed to make me feel every temperature drop more acutely than before.
A sudden gust of wind swept through the entrance, sending a violent shiver through my entire body. My teeth actually chattered, and I could feel goosebumps rising along my exposed arms.
"That's it," I said quickly, any hesitation evaporating with my body heat. "Yes, Felix, thank you. I accept your offer."
I practically dove into the passenger seat when he opened the door for me, a small sigh escaping my lips as the car's heated interior enveloped me.
The warmth was instant and blissful, seeping into my frozen limbs like a resurrection.
"Oh God, that's better," I breathed, rubbing my hands together. "I think I was about thirty seconds away from turning into an ice sculpture out there."
Felix slid in beside me, leaning forward to address the driver. "The Aurora, please, Leo."
"Right away, Mr. Grey."
As the car pulled smoothly into traffic, I fumbled for my phone and sent a quick message to Marcus
Felix Grey offered me a ride home. Already on the way to the Aurora. Please don't worry.
"You know," Felix said as we merged onto the main road, his tone conversational, "Isabella mentioned you were a perfumer too. She went on and on about your talent, actually. But I had no idea you were this good."
Isabella. The name triggered a complex rush of memories—her initial hostility, the unexpected gift of friendship, her abrupt departure to "find herself" abroad. It had been so long since I'd heard any news about her.
"How is she?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual. "I haven't heard from her in ages. Even Damian mentioned he rarely manages to reach her these days."
Felix went rigid beside me, his hand coming up to scratch at his head nervously. "I—no, I haven't..." He cleared his throat, stumbling over the words. "I mean, we don't really... She doesn't contact me."
Something was definitely off. There was a story here.
My instincts sharpened, ready to gently probe deeper, but then the Aurora's glass facade came into view, and my attention was immediately diverted.
Sebastian. He stood perfectly still despite the cold, a thick wool coat draped over his arm, his posture that particular blend of elegant patience and coiled tension I knew so well.
"Why does he know?" I murmured, surprised.
Felix let out a short laugh. "Oh, that. I texted him when you got in the car. Figured it was better than having him assume I'd kidnapped you for ransom. The man's paranoia knows no bounds when it comes to you."
The car glided to a stop at the curb.
I murmured my thanks to Felix as he came around to open my door, but I'd barely stepped onto the sidewalk before Sebastian was there, the heavy coat settling around my shoulders with practiced efficiency.
The warmth was immediate and enveloping, carrying his familiar scent.
"Delivered safe and sound, as promised," Felix called out, his tone light.
"Thank you," Sebastian replied, his arm already curving around my waist to guide me toward the entrance.
Felix took the hint, sliding back into his car with a casual wave. The Bentley purred away into the night.
"You're freezing," Sebastian murmured against my ear. "How long were you waiting outside?"
"Not long. The parking garage was—"
"I know. Marcus called." His hand splayed protectively over my lower back as we entered the elevator. "Next time, dress warmer."
He paused, seeming to reconsider, then added with that particular blend of concern and possession that was uniquely his: "Actually, next time I'll just come with you. They clearly can't take proper care of you."
I sighed in helpless resignation.
---
It was just past 9 PM when I'd settled into the comfortable routine we'd developed—me sprawled on the sofa scrolling through my phone while Sebastian worked beside me, his free hand occasionally finding its way to my hair or shoulder.
The domesticity of it all still surprised me sometimes.
I was mindlessly browsing through social media when a familiar silhouette caught my eye on the trending page. My thumb froze mid-scroll.
No. That couldn't be...
Heart sinking, I clicked on the hashtag #FelixGreyMysteryWoman.
The photo that greeted me was grainy but unmistakable—Felix's Bentley outside Harrods, him holding the door open, and me, thankfully just a silhouette, accepting his help.
But the angle, the way I'd been leaning forward, the hand on my back to steady myself—it all looked far more intimate than the innocent ride it had been.
The headlines were already spinning their narratives:
"Felix Grey's Secret Romance Exposed!"
"Playboy Tycoon's Mystery Lover"
"Chloe Han HEARTBROKEN Over Felix Betrayal"
"FelixChloe Ship in SHAMBLES—Fans Devastated"
But it was Chloe Han's posts that made my stomach drop.
First: "Broken. Just broken."
Second: A black screen with white text: "I trusted you."
Third: A glamorous photo of her and Felix at some charity gala, her caption dripping with passive-aggressive venom: "Guess some women just can't resist the taken men."
I stared at the screen in complete bewilderment.
Who the hell was Chloe Han? Was she Felix's girlfriend? Some kind of contracted PR relationship? I had no idea—I hadn't even known Felix was in the entertainment industry until he'd mentioned it in passing just hours ago.
The comment sections were already a battlefield.
Her three million followers had mobilized like an army, flooding every corner of the internet with their rage.
"Gold digger alert!"
"How dare you steal Chloe's man!"
"Chloe deserves so much better than cheaters!"
"Felix and Chloe were perfect together until you came along!"
"We'll dig until we find out EXACTLY who this bad woman is!"
That last comment sent a chill down my spine. The internet's capacity for doxxing was terrifying, and these fans seemed rabid enough to actually follow through on their threats.
"What's wrong?"
Sebastian's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. He'd looked up from his contracts, those sharp grey eyes immediately zeroing in on my distress. The laptop was already being pushed aside as he shifted closer.