Chapter 6: The First Crack
Back at the penthouse, silence fell between them like a guillotine.
Lucien removed his tie with sharp, angry fingers. "What were you doing alone with Damien Rook?"
Elara tossed her clutch on the table, her voice tight. "Catching my breath. Something I can't do around you."
He turned to face her. "You should've known better. He's a snake."
"And what are you, Lucien?" she snapped. "My savior? My captor? Or just another man who thinks I'm a pawn?"
His eyes burned like cold flame. "I'm the man who gave you a life you couldn't afford."
She flinched.
But then she straightened. "You didn't give me a life. You bought one. Don't confuse the two."
Lucien stepped forward, slowly. "Tell me, Elara. Is that what you think I did? Bought you?"
"You paid off my debts. Signed a contract. Gave me a cage made of glass. What would you call it?"
He stared at her—something raw behind the mask.
Then he said, low and deliberate, "I would call it protection. From men like Damien. From the world that chews up girls like you."
Her throat tightened. "And from yourself?"
A beat.
Then he turned away. "Go to bed, Elara."
But she didn't move. "You say this marriage is fake, Lucien. But when you look at me—sometimes I wonder if it's not."
His body stilled.
She added, voice softer, "I think the only liar here… is you."
Lucien didn't speak.
Didn't look back.
Just walked away into the darkened hallway, as if afraid of the truth she might've just spoken aloud.
---
Later That Night
Elara sat by the window again, watching the stars through her reflection.
This time, she didn't feel angry. Just… hollow.
She touched the sapphire at her throat.
Why did it feel like a chain?
A soft knock at her door startled her.
She opened it. Lucien stood there, shirt rumpled, eyes unreadable.
"I shouldn't have yelled," he said quietly.
She blinked. "You didn't."
He glanced down. "Then I shouldn't have wanted to."
A pause.
Then he stepped back. "There's a room down the hall. It used to be my mother's studio. She painted."
Elara's breath caught. "You're giving it to me?"
"You're the only one I've met who looks at the world the way she did."
He turned to leave, but this time—she reached out and caught his hand.
"Lucien."
He paused.
For once, no anger. No masks.
Just two people… both terribly alone.
"Good night," she whispered.
His fingers lingered in hers a second longer than necessary.
Then he was gone.
And Elara realized something terrifying:
She didn't want to hate him anymore.