Chapter 32 What happens?
The rooftop balcony was quieter than the ballroom below, like the city itself had lowered its voice for her.
Elena stepped out into the cool night air and inhaled deeply. The skyline stretched endlessly before her—glass towers glowing, streets glittering like spilled stars. From up here, everything felt distant. The music, the expectations,For a brief moment, she felt free.
She rested her hands on the cool railing and let the breeze brush against her bare shoulders.
“Nice view, huh.”
The voice came from behind her.
Elena didn’t flinch, but she didn’t turn either. She simply nodded, her gaze still fixed on the city lights.
Jaxon walked closer and stopped beside her, close enough that she could sense his presence without looking. He placed his arm along the railing, mirroring her posture, careful not to invade her space—yet somehow, the closeness felt deliberate.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Then the silence softened.
They talked—about small things at first. How loud the ballroom was. How the city looked different from above. How strange it felt to be surrounded by so many people and still feel alone.
Their voices were low, unguarded, almost normal. Not the future power couple. Not the centerpiece of a carefully staged night. Just two people sharing air.
After a moment, Jaxon turned his head slightly toward her.
“Why did you agree to it?” he asked quietly.
“The alliance.”
Elena exhaled slowly. “I didn’t,” she said. “Not completely.”
She paused, then continued, her voice steadier than she felt. “I overheard my parents talking. MontLux was on the brink. Bankruptcy. They were considering selling the company.”
Jaxon’s expression tightened.
“My dad built that brand from nothing,” she went on. “Years of work. Sacrifice. I couldn’t stand the idea of being the reason he lost it. So… I didn’t fight. Not the way I wanted to.”
Jaxon studied her in silence, the city lights reflecting in his eyes.
“And after the contract ends?” he asked.
“When everyone realizes it was all… make-believe.”
Elena let out a humorless laugh. “They’ll be furious. Disappointed. Maybe both.”
She shifted slightly, folding her arms. “But after that, I’m leaving. Korea. Business expansion. I might stay longer than planned.” Her voice softened.
“Far away from everyone.”
The words lingered between them.
Jaxon nodded once. “Good for you.”
They fell into silence again, this time heavier.
After a moment, Elena turned to him, curiosity edging into her gaze. “What about you?” she asked. “Why did you agree? Or are you just… your dad’s boy?”
Jaxon’s jaw tightened. He opened his mouth to answer—
“Miss Elena. Jaxon.”
Damon’s voice cut through the moment as he stepped onto the balcony.
“Everyone’s been looking for you two.”
The spell broke.
They both turned toward him, the city still glowing behind them, the unspoken answers hanging quietly in the night.
The rooftop air—cool, freeing—was replaced by chandeliers, perfume, and the low hum of curated laughter. Elena smoothed her gown as she walked, her spine straight, her expression carefully neutral. Whatever she’d felt moments ago was folded away. Tonight demanded poise.
She didn’t see Caleb at first.
He appeared the way trouble often did—unannounced and too close.
“Elena,” he said smoothly, stepping into her path with a practiced smile. “Congratulations are in order.”
There was something wrong with the way he said it.
“Thank you,” she replied, matching his tone, though her pulse had begun to tick faster. “Excuse me, I—”
“Oh, don’t rush.” His gaze slid briefly toward the ballroom, then back to her. “An engagement like this deserves… admiration. Strategic brilliance, really.”
Her fingers tightened around her clutch. Brielle’s voice echoed in her head—
Elena lifted her chin. “What exactly are you congratulating me for, Caleb?”
His smile deepened, sharpening at the edges. “For surviving. And for playing your part so convincingly.”
The room seemed to narrow. The air thickened.
“You were involved,” she said quietly. Not a question.
Caleb tilted his head, studying her like a chessboard he already understood. “Involved is such an inelegant word.”
“Were you behind my abduction?” Her voice didn’t shake, though it wanted to.
He leaned in just enough that his words were for her alone. “Let’s just say… secrets have a way of misplacing themselves. Phones. Videos. People.”
Her breath caught. “You’re admitting it.”
“I’m admiring your restraint,” he corrected. “Most people would be furious.”
“I am furious.”
“Ah.” His eyes flicked briefly toward Jaxon across the room. “But fury is dangerous when the truth is… fragile.”
Elena’s stomach dropped. “What do you mean?”
Caleb’s smile softened into something almost sympathetic. “Do you really think everyone believes this fairytale?” he murmured. “Two powerful families. A perfectly timed engagement. Love blooming on schedule.” He paused. “The media loves illusions. Even more, they love watching them shatter.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs. “You don’t know anything.”
“Oh, Elena.” His voice dipped. “I know enough to be curious. And curiosity, as you know, is contagious.”
She took a step back. “Stay away from me.”
“That would be difficult.” His gaze flicked meaningfully to the ring, to the watching guests, to the cameras lurking beyond the doors. “Especially when lies are being told so publicly.”
Before she could respond, a shadow fell between them.
“Is there a problem here?”
Jaxon’s voice was calm—too calm. The kind of calm that preceded damage.
Caleb turned, feigning surprise. “Jaxon. Just congratulating your fiancée.”
Elena felt the subtle shift the moment Jaxon arrived. The air seemed to realign around him, authority radiating in quiet, controlled waves. He placed a hand at the small of her back—not possessive, but protective. Grounding.
“She looked uncomfortable,” Jaxon said evenly.
“That’s usually where congratulations end.”
Caleb chuckled. “Always the attentive one.”
Jaxon dismissed the cluster of executives he’d been speaking with earlier with a glance and a brief apology. They melted away, sensing tension they wanted no part of. Around them, laughter continued, music swelled—but a small circle of unease formed, invisible and electric.
“A word of advice,” Jaxon said, voice low. “Choose your conversations wisely tonight.”
Caleb stepped closer, closing the distance with deliberate provocation. His mouth curved as he leaned in, his words meant for Jaxon alone.
“Careful,” he whispered. “Some punches cost more than they’re worth.”
Jaxon’s jaw flexed. For a heartbeat, Elena thought he might actually do it—might forget the cameras, the guests, the careful illusion they were all maintaining. His hands curled into fists, knuckles reddening.
Then Caleb added softly, “If I were you, I wouldn’t even think about it.”
Jaxon inhaled. Slowly. Measured. He straightened, the fury retreating behind a mask of composure so precise it was almost frightening.
Caleb stepped back, satisfied. He adjusted his cufflinks, gave Elena a final, knowing look, and walked away with a smirk—as if he’d already won something.
The noise of the room rushed back in.
Elena exhaled shakily and turned to Jaxon. “Let him go,” she said under her breath. “He’s not worth it.”
Jaxon didn’t look away from Caleb’s retreating form. “Men like him always think they’re worth more than they are.”
She touched his arm, grounding him now. “Tonight isn’t about him.”
He finally looked at her. The intensity in his eyes softened, just a fraction. “No,” he agreed. “But he just made it personal.”
And somewhere beneath the glittering lights and polite applause, the illusion of the perfect engagement began to fracture—
quietly, something Inside Elena wanted to know what Caleb bad whispered into Jaxon ears.