Chapter nine:winnings and sizzling tensions
The next morning, Elena was up before him.
She made her own coffee. Didn't touch the breakfast the housekeeper had left out. She sat by the window with her journal open and her legs folded under her.
She didn't look up when Aiden walked in.
But she felt the hesitation in his steps. Like he wasn't sure how to be in the room with her anymore.
Good.
She kept writing.
Not to provoke.
Just to exist.
---
Later, he stood by the door.
"I have a meeting at the gallery this afternoon."
She didn't answer right away. Finished the sentence she was writing. Then, calmly, "And?" she asked softly..
"You should come."
That surprised her.
Not the invitation—more the fact that it sounded like one.
"Why?"
He shrugged. "It'd look good." was all he said
"Ah." She closed the journal. "There it is." She nodded with a sarcastic smile
"Elena—"
"I'll come," she said, standing. "But I won't smile. And I won't pretend."
His jaw tightened.
Did she care about is reaction??
Of course not!!!!!
But he nodded.
---
At the gallery, she was effortless.Elegant. Measured. Poised.
She shook hands with board members, complimented a few pieces, held her own in every conversation. She didn't cling to Aiden, and she didn't wait for instructions on how to act.
She didn't need them.
Aiden noticed. She saw it in the way he looked at her—like she'd become something he hadn't anticipated.
Like he couldn't quite look away.
---
On the ride home, the silence was different.
Not cold. Just full.
He broke it,because left to her she wouldn't have broken it.
"You handled yourself well." he said reluctantly looking at her briefly before looking back at the road.
"Did you expect otherwise?" She asked softly looking sideways at him.
"No." He said,his head moving in a small nod.
But he had.
She smiled faintly, turning her face toward the window.
Another win.
---
That night, he found her in the kitchen,she was barefoot, hair loose, sipping tea,looking natural and serene.
Walking closer "You're not drinking wine," he said,stopping very close to her
She shrugged. "Didn't feel like it." She said calmly even if she could smell the scent of him. So pure and sweaty,and sweet….
"You usually do."
She turned to face him. "Maybe you don't know what I usually do."
A pause. Then, "I'm starting to realize that."
She didn't offer him tea.
He didn't ask.
But he didn't leave, either.
For the second time,he didn't leave…..
---
A few days later, an interview dropped.
A soft-focus lifestyle piece—obviously PR-approved—but it quoted Elena directly.
"MARRIAGE CHANGES YOU. YOU LEARN,WHERE YOUR VOICE FITS IN"
It wasn't controversial. But it was pointed,simple filled with meaning.And it spread.
Aiden brought it up that evening"You spoke to the press?"
"I gave them ten minutes. It was scheduled through your team."She looked straight at him as she spoke,silently challenging him to shut her down.
"You said more than you were supposed to."He said finally looking at her with his too serious eyes that could meoy the iciest of snows….
"I said what was true."
He didn't like that.
But he didn't stop her.
---
That week, she redecorated one of the guest rooms.Nothing big. Just color. Texture. Life.
When Aiden found her standing in the middle of it, arms crossed and smiling faintly at the new rug, he leaned against the doorway.
"You hate this apartment??" He asked softly crossing him arms across his chest
"I hate how quiet it is." she said looking at him
"You think a rug fixes that?"
"No," she said. "But I do."
That one made him pause.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
---
They were circling each other now.
Every conversation was filled with building tension
Not the old kind—cold, bruising, defensive.
This was different.
Sharp. Heated.
Alive. Different
He didn't know what to do with her when she wasn't fragile.
And she had no interest in making him comfortable.
She wanted to watch his guard drop
---
The next event came that weekend.A dinner downtown. Private. Political.
She wore black. Sleek, tailored, quiet power.
Aiden watched her cross the room like she belonged to the world and not to him.
Someone asked how she was adjusting to married life.
She smiled. "I've always been adaptable."
No one caught the undertone.
Except Aiden.
---
On the drive back, she was quiet. So was he.
Halfway home, he finally spoke.
"You were incredible tonight."
She glanced at him. "Don't sound so surprised."
"I'm not."
"You used to be."
Another silence.
Then, quietly, "You've changed."
She looked out the window. "So have you."
They didn't say more.
But it was there between them—charged, unspoken, real.
---
That night, she didn't sleep on the couch.She didn't sleep in his bed either.She stayed up late in the room she'd made hers, candles lit, pen moving across paper.
Not hiding,she chose to be seen through her words….
Just… choosing.
And for once, it felt like the choice was hers.
---