Chapter 28 The Provocation
"Come on, stop with that serious face," Elijah said, gently pulling Elena’s hand and dispersing the lingering traces of anxiety on her beautiful face. "The contract is secure, your designs are nearly finished, and you’ve officially become my private 'employer.' Don't we need a little celebration?"
Elena furrowed her brow. "A celebration? At this hour? Where are you taking me?"
"Downstairs," Elijah replied, grabbing his denim jacket from the sofa. "The night is just beginning at The Crown. The music has started, and people are already dancing. You need a drink and some movement so your muscles don't stiffen from drawing all day."
Elena hesitated. "But Elijah, everyone down there knows... well, you know your status there. Won't it be strange if I walk in with you while it's crowded with clients?"
Elijah chuckled and wrapped his arm possessively around her waist, pulling her close. "That’s exactly the point. I want all my colleagues and the customers downstairs to know that tonight, I am booked. No one will dare approach me if they see me with you."
They descended the stairs toward the main bar area. As the doors opened, a classy yet provocative jazz-fusion beat greeted them. Dim amber and blue lights gave the space a luxurious and mysterious atmosphere.
Elijah didn't lead Elena to the crowded general area. Instead, he guided her toward a VIP booth tucked into a corner, offering a wide view of the dance floor while remaining hidden in the shadows.
"Sir—I mean, Elijah," greeted Bernardo, who suddenly appeared with a tray carrying two pomegranate-red cocktails. The bar manager had almost slipped and used Elijah's real title, but a sharp look from those sapphire eyes brought him back to reality.
"Drinks for you and Miss Elena. Compliments of the management," Bernardo said, placing the glasses on the table.
"Thank you, Bernardo. Make sure we aren't disturbed," Elijah said flatly.
Elijah handed a glass to Elena. "Drink up. It’s a special blend with low alcohol content. I don’t want you getting drunk and forgetting your way home again like that night."
Elena took a sip, her eyes scanning the crowd below. From her seat, she could see several socialites in revealing outfits glancing toward their table—or more accurately, staring hungrily at Elijah.
"Look at that," Elena murmured, gesturing with her chin toward a group of women at the bar who kept stealing glances. "They seem quite disappointed that you're sitting here with me."
Elijah didn't look at the crowd for even a second. Instead, he rested his chin on his hand, staring at Elena with an intensity that took her breath away.
"Let them be disappointed," Elijah whispered. "New York is full of beautiful women, but only one was crazy enough to make me hers in a three-year contract. And she’s sitting right in front of me now."
Elena let out a small laugh, her awkwardness finally melting away. However, amidst the relaxing atmosphere, Elena didn't notice that in another corner of the bar, a man in a neat suit sat alone, clutching a smartphone. He was a spy sent by Alaric Blackwood.
The flash of the phone's camera triggered silently, capturing the moment Elijah gently stroked Elena’s cheek. The photo was sent in an instant.
At the Blackwood mansion, Alaric stared at the photo on his tablet, his face hardening.
"So you've really chosen this woman, Elijah? You even dare to bring her to a public place?" Alaric was fuming; he felt like slapping the handsome face of Elijah, his only son and his most rebellious youngest child.
Alaric pressed a button on his intercom. "Contact the family lawyers. I want every small detail regarding the marriage contract of Elena Vance and Morgan Valdez. If Elijah wants to play the role of a protector disguised as a commoner, then I will show him how fragile the protection built on lies truly is."
Back at The Crown, Elijah’s instincts suddenly sharpened. He felt an unusual gaze coming from behind. Without changing his position, he gave a subtle signal by tapping the table three times—a code for his shadow security team to immediately track whoever was watching them.
"Elena," Elijah said suddenly, his voice softening again. "How about we dance for a bit? Just one song."
"Dance? Here?"
"Why not? Let everyone know who this 'hired man’s' employer really is."
Elijah stood and extended his hand, waiting for Elena to take it. Under the dim bar lights, Elijah looked so mesmerizing that, for Elena, refusing him felt impossible.
Elena slowly took his hand, letting him lead her to the center of the dance floor, where the lights were even dimmer. The energetic jazz faded into a slower, deeper, and more seductive melody.
Elijah wrapped his arms around Elena’s waist, pulling her body flush against his. Reflexively, Elena looped her arms around his neck, her heart racing as she caught the masculine scent of sandalwood and soap from his skin.
"Elijah, everyone is looking," Elena whispered, trying to hide her face against his broad chest.
"Let them," Elijah replied huskily.
Elijah stole a glance toward the corner where his father's spy was stationed. He knew the camera lens was aimed right at him. The corner of Elijah's lips curled into a cunning smirk. He knew Alaric was watching, and he wanted to give his father a performance he would never forget.
Without warning, Elijah tightened his grip. One hand slid to the nape of Elena’s neck, his fingers stroking through her hair. Elena looked up, locked onto Elijah’s sapphire eyes, which were now flashing with raw passion.
"Elijah?" Elena murmured, confused.
"Our contract starts now, Miss," Elijah whispered right against her lips. "And this is the down payment."
Elijah leaned down and silenced her lips with a deep, passionate kiss. It wasn't just a soft peck; it was a demanding, hot, and intensely possessive kiss. Elena, initially shocked, slowly began to drift away. She closed her eyes, kissing him back as if wanting to forget the whole world and her pain.
In the corner of the bar, the spy frantically pressed the record button. He never expected to get footage this bold and vulgar from a Blackwood heir, who usually guarded his privacy so fiercely.
Elijah intentionally tilted his head, ensuring the camera caught every detail of how he devoured Elena’s lips. Inside his head, Elijah laughed mockingly.
'Look at this, Alaric. Look at how your youngest son—the one you call a lion—is kneeling and worshipping the woman you call lowly.'
Meanwhile, at the Blackwood mansion, Alaric nearly smashed his tablet on the floor as the live stream appeared. His breath was ragged, his face flushed with rage at the sight of his only son kissing Morgan Valdez’s wife like a man possessed in a public place.
"That little bastard, he's doing this on purpose!" Alaric roared in fury. "He's challenging me!"