That color suits you very well.
The words were so simple, so quiet, yet in the dim silence of the car, they sounded like a confession. This was no longer Ethan the CEO stating a term, or Ethan the husband demanding his rights. This was... something else. Something personal.
Elena turned, and her eyes met Ethan's gaze. In the darkness, she couldn't read his expression completely, but she could feel its intensity. Her heart fluttered, a reaction that annoyed her. She was supposed to be angry. She was supposed to ignore him. But the words had managed to slip past her defenses, catching her off guard.
"Thank you," she replied, her voice barely a whisper.
She saw a small twitch in Ethan's jaw, as if he too were surprised by her answer. Elena quickly turned her face back to the window, feeling a slight warmth in her cheeks. The rest of the journey was spent in a new silence, no longer a cold one, but a silence that felt heavy and filled with confusing possibilities.
The moment their car arrived at the hotel lobby where the gala was held, the world seemed to explode in a flash of light. Dozens of camera flashes greeted them like a volley of gunfire, making Elena squint. Reporters shouted their names. For a moment, she felt a surge of panic, wanting to retreat back into the safe shell of the car.
"Stay close to me," Ethan whispered, his voice low near her ear.
Before Elena could react, Ethan was out of the car and had circled around to open her door. As Elena stepped out, a firm, warm hand settled on the small of her back. The gesture was decisive and possessive in the public eye, but to Elena, the touch felt like a calming anchor in the middle of the storm. Ethan guided her through the crowd with a quiet efficiency, nodding politely at the cameras without breaking his stride.
Inside the glittering ballroom, Ethan transformed. The quiet, tense man who sat across from her every morning now became a center of gravity. He smiled—a charming business smile that didn't reach his eyes—shook hands with men in expensive suits, and gave curt, polite nods to women in glamorous gowns. Elena just stood by his side, playing her part as the beautiful and silent Mrs. Riels, a perfect display piece.
That's when Elena saw her. A woman walking toward them with the grace of a predator. She was stunningly beautiful, in a fiery red dress that seemed to dare everyone to look at her, with a sharp smile on her red lips.
"Ethan, darling," the woman purred, air-kissing his cheek. "It's been ages. I hardly recognize you with that... domestic look on your face."
"Clarissa," Ethan replied, his tone flat, but Elena noticed a slight stiffness in his shoulders. "Good to see you."
Clarissa Vance's hawk-like eyes then shifted to Elena, assessing her from head to toe. Her smile widened, but there was no warmth in it.
"And you must be Elena," she said, her voice as sweet as poisoned honey. "All of us, the entire city, we were so surprised to hear the news. You managed to do what no other woman could. You finally tamed the wildest shark in our ocean."
Elena could only force a polite smile.
Clarissa took a step closer, as if to share a secret. "So, go on, tell us. What's your secret?"
The question hung in the air, sharp and accusatory. Clarissa wasn't asking; she was attacking. She was implying that Elena must have used some devious trick to land Ethan Riels. In the middle of the small crowd that was now watching them, Elena felt exposed and helpless. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
She glanced at Ethan, searching for help, but her husband's face had once again become an expressionless mask.