Chapter 21

Chapter 21
The glass walls of Elara’s office reflected the pulsating silhouette of Jakarta, yet for Elara, the world outside felt empty. Only the tablet screen in her hand was real, emitting cold evidence of betrayal. Damar. Adrian’s cousin’s name was now etched in her mind, no longer a vague threat, but the mastermind behind the chaos that engulfed Kencana Mode. The air in the room felt thick; each of Elara’s breaths was heavy and laden with anger.

“Damar S?” Rina pointed at the screen, her voice choked. “Is it really him? But… how?”

Elara shook her head, her teeth gritted. “He wants both of us to fail, Rina. All this time, I only saw Adrian as the enemy, but it turns out there’s someone else pulling strings behind the scenes. He used our leaked design to ignite a media war, hoping we would destroy each other.”

“But why?” Rina asked, holding Elara’s arm as if to calm the storm visible in her friend’s eyes. “What does Damar gain if this charity project fails?”

“Eyang’s inheritance,” Elara answered softly, her eyes blazing. “Eyang Subroto’s will has a very specific clause about additional assets that would be granted if this charity project succeeded. If not, everything would be re-evaluated, and Damar, with all his nonsense about ‘his rights,’ must have seen a golden opportunity.” She touched the screen, her fingers tracing Damar’s sickening message. “He exploited every rift between Adrian and me, every tension between us.”

Rina sighed. “So, Mahesa’s statement responding to your initial concept… that wasn’t entirely a personal attack from Adrian?”

Elara paused for a moment. Doubt crept into her previously firm conviction. “Perhaps not. Or perhaps it was Adrian’s revenge strategy that coincidentally aligned with Damar’s plan. I don’t know anymore, Rina. What’s clear is that Kencana’s image is tarnished, and I feel like a pawn in a game I don’t even fully understand.” She walked to the window, staring at the tall buildings that seemed to mock her vulnerability. “How can I explain all this to the public? How can I say that the design was stolen and engineered to make me look bad without appearing like a whining victim?”

“We could hold a press conference,” Rina suggested, her tone firmer. “Explain that there was sabotage, show this screenshot evidence.”

Elara turned, her expression filled with consideration. “And show the public that we can’t even maintain our own internal security? Or that behind the scenes, there’s a much dirtier Mahesa family feud? That would further damage Eyang’s name and this charity project.” A new burden now weighed on her shoulders: not just defending Kencana, but also protecting Eyang’s legacy from undeserved stain.



On the other side of the city, in Adrian Mahesa’s magnificent office, the aroma of strong black coffee couldn’t dispel the scent of tension hanging in the air. Adrian stood beside Baskara, his gaze fixed on the worsening analysis report. Damar’s phone call had changed everything. His cold anger now had a clear target.

“Damar,” Adrian stated, his voice low and dangerous. “He dares. Using Eyang’s name for his own self-interest.”

“What will you do?” Baskara asked, holding his coffee cup. “It’s clear he wants both of you to fall. He wants to prove that Eyang was wrong in choosing you to continue this project.”

Adrian clenched his fist. “I will find a way to stop him. I will not let Eyang’s legacy be tarnished by Damar’s petty ambition.” He looked at the monitor screen. “But… Pak Tirtayasa’s statement. ‘Urging to clarify the situation for the sake of charity.’ He’s forcing my hand.”

“He’s forcing both our hands,” Baskara corrected. “He knows exactly what he’s doing. He wants you to sit together, Adrian. He wants you to confront each other, not just Damar, but also yourselves.”

Adrian sighed, the silence in his office felt deafening. “Sit with Elara? After the media chaos she triggered? She must see me as her primary enemy, Baskara. She will refuse to cooperate.”

“Then what will you do?” Baskara pressed. “Continue the war of opinion? Let Damar keep manipulating you? The public already sees you as two egoistic young CEOs, fighting over a charity project. That’s not the image Eyang wanted.”

The image of Elara’s face flashed in Adrian’s mind—her fiery gaze, her lips often curled into a challenging smile, but also the vulnerability he had seen that night. The night that still haunted him, a night filled with passion yet also regret. Every time he tried to forget, the memory of Elara’s touch and the soft gasp of his name always returned. He hated chaos, and Elara had always been the most captivating source of chaos in his life.

“I can’t take any more risks,” Adrian finally said, his tone full of determination. “Not after Damar has gone this far. I will contact Pak Tirtayasa. We will hold a joint press conference.”

Baskara was surprised. “Joint? With Elara?”

“It’s the only way to prove that we aren’t destroying each other and that Eyang’s project remains a priority,” Adrian asserted. “And to show Damar that he won’t win.” However, another unease gnawed at his heart. A joint press conference with Elara meant facing that woman again, coming face to face with the fire and ice that always existed between them.



The call from Pak Tirtayasa arrived almost simultaneously for Adrian and Elara. His voice, as usual, was calm yet authoritative.

“I understand the current situation is quite critical,” Pak Tirtayasa told Elara, via video call. His wrinkled face showed a hint of concern, but his eyes radiated determination. “Given public demand and, more importantly, the spirit of the late Eyang Subroto’s will, I have arranged a joint press conference. Tomorrow morning, at ten o’clock. At the Eyang Subroto Foundation Conference Hall.”

Elara felt her throat constrict. “A joint press conference? With Adrian?”

“Of course,” Pak Tirtayasa replied. “I am confident that both of you share the same goal of protecting this project from all forms of sabotage and misinformation. This is your chance to show unity, for Eyang’s good name and, of course, the image of your respective companies.” He paused for a moment, his gaze piercing. “Remember, Elara, Eyang always believed in the power of collaboration. He knew that both of you possess unique strengths that, when combined, would be invincible.”

The call ended, leaving Elara in suffocating silence. Collaboration? With Adrian? The man who had once made her feel like her entire world was crashing down? How could she pretend to be fine in front of the cameras, next to him?



Shortly after, an email appeared in Elara’s inbox. It was from Mahesa Group. The content included the schedule and discussion points for tomorrow’s joint press conference. The email subject was simple: “Clarification of the Eyang Subroto Foundation Charity Project Situation.” She opened the attachment, reading the points meticulously crafted with Adrian’s characteristic precision—facts, figures, and an emphasis on Eyang’s unshakeable initial vision. There, in the third point, it read, “Explanation of the information leak incident and sabotage attempts by irresponsible third parties.”

Reading that sentence, Elara felt a strange mix of emotions. Adrian knew about Damar. Adrian would publicly reveal it. Not Elara herself. Adrian always took control.

“He’s always been like that,” Elara muttered. “Dominant, even in ‘collaboration’.” Yet, behind her annoyance, there was a glimmer of unexpected relief. The burden of revealing the truth about Damar was no longer hers alone. Adrian, with all his power, would stand by her side to fight the common threat.



That night, Adrian Mahesa couldn’t sleep. He sat at his desk, staring at the initial concept sketches prepared by the Mahesa Group team for the charity project. Elegant, precise designs reflecting strength. Yet, in the corner of his mind, Elara’s modern ethnic dress—though still rough—flashed, possessing a spark of creativity he couldn't deny.

He remembered Baskara’s words: “Adrian, that’s an initial concept. Every designer starts with a sketch. That doesn’t mean they lack potential.” And Pak Tirtayasa’s: “Eyang always believed in the power of collaboration.”

Adrian drank cold water. Cold, like himself. Analytical, like his strategies. Yet, deep inside, a wave of heat slowly rose every time he thought about tomorrow. Standing beside Elara. In front of dozens of cameras. Defending Eyang’s project, while simultaneously confronting the bitter memory of that night, the night where his control shattered, and emotions took over. Elara’s gaze, her cynical smile, her burning anger—all would become real again.

Adrian closed his eyes, feeling the warm breath on his neck, Elara’s hands holding him tight, the soft whisper of his name in the darkness. Memories so vivid, so real, as if they had happened just last night. Then, the cold sensation that struck him when he woke up alone, with an unspoken brief message, and the emptiness he filled with walls of self-defense.

Tomorrow, those walls would be tested again. Not just by Damar, or by the news-hungry media. But by Elara herself, who with every look and every word, would remind him of the vulnerability he most feared. He had to show absolute strength and control. But what if, behind the perfect facade, his heart began to pound again, disturbed by a long-buried passion?

Adrian opened his eyes, staring blankly at the spread design sheets. A name crossed his mind, a name he tried to forget, a name that would now stand beside him as an ally, and at the same time, a reminder of his greatest weakness. A grand show was about to begin, not just for the public, but also for both their hearts.