Chapter 142

Eleanor's POV

I drank. Set the glass down. Met Arthur's eyes directly.

"That's one."

Arthur's face went rigid. "You don't have to—"

"You said three." I was already reaching for the next glass. "I'm keeping count."

"Elle." Something broke through Arthur's careful control, his voice dropping to something that sounded almost like pleading. "Stop."

I stopped. Not because he'd asked, but because Julian's hand covered mine on the stem of the glass.

I set it down.

The table had gone completely silent, everyone's attention locked on the three of us.

Katherine cleared her throat delicately. "Perhaps we should—"

"I think," Aunt Charlotte said brightly, "we should move on to the main course. This has been lovely, but I'm starving."

The staff appeared as if summoned, clearing plates with practiced efficiency.

The tension didn't break. It just shifted, redistributing itself around the table like water finding new channels.

---

Dessert arrived as the candles burned lower—chocolate soufflés that collapsed the moment a spoon touched them, releasing steam that smelled of dark cocoa and espresso.

I was starting to relax slightly. I'd made it through most of the dinner without any major disasters. Julian's hand had found mine under the table, his thumb stroking reassuring circles against my palm.

Aunt Charlotte spoke first, her tone warm and deliberate. "Eleanor, I have to say—it's wonderful to finally have you here properly. We all feel like we know you already."

Julian leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed. "She's basically family at this point anyway."

The words made warmth spread through my chest.

Arthur spoke, his voice carefully even. "They've been dating for a few months. That's not the same thing as family."

He wasn't looking at Julian. His gaze was fixed on me, carrying something desperate and controlled in equal measure.

"There's no formal commitment here. Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

The words landed like a challenge and a plea and a last line of defense all at once.

My hand tightened around Julian's under the table.

The table went quiet again, the kind of silence that meant everyone understood what was actually being said.

Julian didn't respond immediately.

Instead, he turned to me, his voice dropping to that particular register that somehow carried clearly despite its softness. "He's right. No formal commitment yet."

My heart stuttered. Was he—

He paused for exactly one heartbeat.

Then he stood.

"Elle." His gray-blue eyes locked on mine with absolute certainty, the kind of look that didn't ask permission because it already knew the answer. "Will you get engaged to me?"

The room disappeared.

Time stopped.

All I could see was Julian, standing beside me, looking at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

"I know the timing isn't conventional," he continued, his voice still low but carrying to every corner of the room. "And I know this isn't how these things are usually done. But I'm done waiting for the right moment. The right moment is whenever you're in the room."

My throat was tight. My eyes were burning.

I didn't hesitate.

"Yes." The word came out clear and certain, no doubt in it at all. "Obviously yes."

Julian's hand found mine, his fingers lacing through mine with the ease of long practice. He straightened, his gaze sweeping across the table with calm finality.

"Then I think that settles it." His tone shifted back to that casual confidence. "Elle and I are getting engaged."

The table erupted.

Aunt Charlotte was the first to react, her face breaking into genuine delight. "Oh, finally—"

Katherine's voice cut through the rising murmur. "This is a significant step. Eleanor, your parents—have they been consulted?"

I didn't look away from Julian. "My parents support my decisions. They always have."

Around us, guests were applauding, exchanging glances, conversations breaking out in excited clusters.

I barely heard any of it.

All I could focus on was Julian, and the way he was looking at me like he'd just won everything that mattered.

---

Arthur's POV

I sat perfectly still, my hands resting on the table, every muscle locked in place.

Vivienne said my name softly. I heard it from very far away, like she was speaking through water.

I couldn't respond.

All I could do was watch Eleanor and Julian's joined hands, watch the way her face had softened into an expression of complete certainty, watch the ease with which she'd said yes without a moment's doubt.

Engaged.

The word echoed in my head, meaningless and devastating all at once.

Around me, the celebration continued. Aunt Charlotte demanding details. Katherine asking about timeline. Younger cousins making jokes about the Vance brothers and their competitive streak.

I sat through it all in perfect silence, my face a careful mask.

Inside, something was breaking apart and reforming into something harder, colder, less forgiving.

After five weeks confined to bed in the hospital, I’d woken up repeating to myself none of this could possibly be real.

That Eleanor was confused, hurt, acting out because I'd rejected her. That once she had time to think, once the initial sting faded, she'd realize what we'd had was worth fighting for.

I'd told myself she'd chosen Julian out of spite. Out of loneliness. Out of anything except actual love.

But watching her now—watching the way she looked at him, the way she'd defended him, the way she'd said yes without hesitation—I finally understood.

She'd chosen Julian.

Not because I'd pushed her away. Not because of bad timing or family pressure or any of the hundred other reasons I'd been telling myself.

She'd chosen Julian because she loved him. Because when she looked at Julian, she saw something she'd never seen when she looked at me.

Because she was happier.

I looked at Vivienne, really looked at her for the first time all evening.

She was beautiful. Accomplished. She'd given up Paris for me, given up her career, thrown herself into this relationship with genuine feeling.

And I'd been going through the motions. Playing the perfect fiancé while my heart was somewhere else entirely.

She deserved better than that.

But in this moment, watching Eleanor celebrate her engagement to my brother, I couldn't bring myself to care.

A venomous whisper coiled right against my ear, cold and insidious. “Do something… tear them apart. She was always meant to be yours.”