The night was cool, yet Elena felt suffocated. The mansion was too large, too silent, too filled with shadows that whispered things she didn't want to hear.
She had gone out into the garden hoping for peace, to escape the constant ache in her chest. But as she rounded the hedge of roses, she froze.
Two voices.
Alexander's, deep and clipped.
And Isabelle's, low and sultry.
Elena pressed herself against the ivy-covered wall, her heart hammering.
"Why are you here?" Alexander's tone was sharp, impatient.
"I had to see you," Isabelle purred, her laughter soft. "You can't keep pretending with her, Alexander. You don't love Elena. You never wanted her. She's just a pawn in this twisted marriage deal."
Elena's breath caught. Each word felt like a dagger.
Alexander didn't answer immediately. For a moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the rustle of leaves in the night breeze.
Then, in a low voice that cracked something inside Elena, he said, "You don't understand. This marriage… it isn't that simple."
"Simple?" Isabelle scoffed, stepping closer. Elena could hear the click of her heels on the stone path. "You're miserable. She's miserable. Why keep pretending?"
Elena pressed her trembling fingers against her lips to keep from gasping aloud.
Miserable. Was that what she was to him? A burden, an unwanted chain around his neck?
Her knees threatened to give way, but she forced herself still, listening.
Alexander's voice dropped even lower. "I don't need you to remind me of what I feel. Or don't feel."
"Then leave her," Isabelle whispered urgently. "Be with me instead."
The words pierced Elena deeper than any knife. She staggered back, her vision blurring. She couldn't bear to hear his answer.
Without another thought, she turned and fled.
The garden blurred past her as tears spilled freely down her cheeks. She didn't stop until she reached her room, slamming the door behind her. She pressed her back to it, chest heaving, the image of them together haunting her mind.
She was nothing to him. Nothing but a contract.
The Next Morning
The mansion's dining room glowed with warm sunlight, but Elena felt none of its warmth. She sat rigidly at the long table, staring at her untouched breakfast.
Across from her, Alexander sipped his coffee as if nothing had happened the night before. His expression was unreadable, his posture perfect, his control absolute.
Elena's fingers curled into fists beneath the tablecloth. How could he sit there, calm and collected, after whispering such things to Isabelle?
"Not hungry?" His voice was casual, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes when he glanced at her plate.
"I'm fine," Elena said tightly, forcing a smile.
He studied her for a long moment. "You look pale."
"I said I'm fine," she snapped before she could stop herself.
The silence that followed was deafening. Alexander's eyes darkened, his jaw tightening.
Finally, he set his cup down with deliberate calm. "If you have something to say, Elena, say it."
Her heart pounded. She should stay quiet. She should swallow it down. But the memory of Isabelle's voice—leave her, be with me—echoed in her head, shattering her composure.
"Why me, Alexander?" she blurted out, her voice shaking. "Why marry me if you despise me so much? Was I just convenient? A pawn in your business deals? A replacement for the woman you really wanted?"
The words hung in the air, heavy and raw.
Alexander's gaze locked onto hers, burning with something she couldn't decipher. "Who told you that?"
Her lips trembled. "Does it matter? It's true, isn't it?"
For a moment, the mask he always wore slipped. Pain—real, raw pain—flashed across his face, gone in an instant.
"You don't know what you're talking about," he said coldly, standing. "Don't make assumptions about things you don't understand."
He left the room without another word, his footsteps echoing like thunder in her ears.
Elena sat frozen, her tears falling silently onto her untouched food.
Elsewhere in the Mansion
Isabelle leaned against the marble balcony, watching Alexander storm out of the dining hall. A slow smile curved her lips.
Perfect.
She had planted the seeds of doubt, and now they were growing, spreading like poison between Alexander and Elena.
Soon, she thought, very soon, Elena would break completely. And when she did, Alexander would have no one left to turn to but her.
Later That Evening
The storm finally broke between them.
Elena was in the library, curled up with a book she wasn't reading, when Alexander walked in. His presence filled the room instantly, commanding, suffocating.
"We need to talk," he said, his voice clipped.
She looked up, her eyes rimmed with red. "About what? About how miserable we both are?"
Something flickered in his gaze—anger, frustration, but beneath it, something softer, almost vulnerable.
"Elena," he began, stepping closer. "I didn't choose this marriage. Neither did you. But don't ever think I despise you."
Her heart lurched. "Then why—why does it feel like you don't even see me?"
His jaw clenched. He was so close now she could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw, the storm in his eyes.
"I see you," he said, his voice low and fierce. "More than you think."
The air between them crackled, heavy with tension. For one dizzying moment, Elena thought he might close the distance, that he might actually—
But then he pulled back, his expression shuttered once again.
"This conversation is over," he said stiffly, turning away.
Elena's chest ached as she watched him go, torn between hope and despair.
Because for just a second, in his eyes, she had seen it.
Something real.
Something dangerous.
Something that could ruin them both.
🔥 Chapter Seven Ending Hook:
As the library door slammed shut, Elena touched her lips with trembling fingers. She had almost believed him. Almost believed that behind his coldness, there was something more.
But then the echo of Isabelle's voice returned—Leave her. Be with me.
And Elena knew this was only the beginning of a war she wasn't sure she could win.