Adam did not speak the entire drive home.
Neither did Elora.
The silence between them was heavier than the night air outside the car, thick with unspoken accusations and emotions neither of them was willing to name.
When the car stopped at the mansion, Adam stepped out first.
"Don't leave the house again without telling me," he said coldly.
Elora laughed under her breath. "You don't own me."
Adam turned sharply. "I'm responsible for you."
"You keep saying that," she snapped. "But you don't act like a brother."
The word brother hit him like a blade.
"Go to your room," he said, voice tight.
She walked past him without another word.
The next morning, Elora woke to Lyra standing by her door.
"Sir Adam says you'll be coming to the office today," Lyra said gently.
Elora frowned. "Why?"
"He believes keeping you close is… better.
Better for him, she thought.
The office was massive—glass walls, cold floors, and people who froze the moment Adam walked past. His presence alone demanded silence, obedience, fear.
Elora noticed it immediately.
This was not the Adam she grew up with.
This was someone dangerous.
She was assigned a desk outside his private office. Every time the door opened, she felt his presence before she saw him.
He barely looked at her.
That hurt more than his anger.
One afternoon, Elora passed by Adam's study.
The door was slightly open.
Brian's voice drifted out.
"The proposal arrangements are nearly complete. Sophia's family is eager."
Adam exhaled slowly. "Make sure everything is clean. No mistakes."
Elora froze.
Proposal.
So it was real.
She stepped back without thinking.
The floor creaked.
The door opened.
"Elora."
Adam's voice was calm—but too calm.
She lifted her chin. "Congratulations."
Brian looked uncomfortable. "I'll… leave you two."
The door shut.
"You shouldn't listen to conversations that aren't yours," Adam said.
"You shouldn't pretend you care about me," she replied quietly.
Something flickered in his eyes—but vanished just as fast.
"Get back to work."
That night, Elora packed her things and left.
She stayed with Selina and Daniel.
Selina was furious. "He can't keep pulling you close and pushing you away like this. That's not love. That's control."
Elora said nothing.
Because control still felt better than abandonment.
A week passed.
No calls.
No messages.
Then one night, she returned to the mansion.
Adam was waiting in the living room.
"You're back from your lover's house," he said flatly.
She walked past him.
The next night, she dressed up again—short dress, heels, confidence she didn't feel.
"I'm going out."
Adam stood up. "Dressed like that?"
She ignored him.
So he followed.
The club was loud, flashing with lights and music.
Selina dragged Elora to the dance floor, laughing.
A man approached Elora, confident, smiling.
He danced too close.
His hands lingered too long.
Adam watched from the shadows, his blood boiling.
When the man leaned closer, Adam snapped.
He stormed forward and shoved him away.
"Don't touch her."
The club went silent around them.
Elora stared at Adam in shock. "Are you insane?"
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her out.
Inside the car, Elora's phone buzzed.
She smiled without realizing it.
Adam noticed.
"Who is it?"
"No one."
"Give me the phone."
She refused.
Adam took it.
The screen lit up.
Mike: I'm in Spain. Can we meet tomorrow?
Adam's chest tightened painfully.
He handed the phone back—then took it again.
"You're not seeing him."
"You can't decide that!"
He bought her a new phone the next day.
And kept the old one.
The next morning, Elora was gone.
So was Selina.
Adam lost control.
He fired the staff—everyone except Lyra.
"Find her," he ordered.
They did.
She was with Mike.
Adam watched from afar.
And decided to wait.
Time passed.
Adam married Sophia.
Elora got engaged to Mike.
They lived under the same roof—Adam, Sophia, and Elora.
Sophia adored Elora, believing she was only Adam's sister.
At night, Adam lay awake, listening to Elora's footsteps down the hall.
Obsessed.
Jealous.
Trapped.