Silence from Elias lasted twelve hours.
Twelve long, crawling hours where nothing happened.
No messages.
No sightings.
No headlines.
And somehow, that felt worse than everything before.
Lyra paced her apartment like a caged thought.
"I don't like this," she said for the fifth time.
Aurelian sat at the table with a laptop open, security reports scrolling across the screen. "He's recalibrating."
"Stop saying that like he's a software update."
"He's adjusting strategy," Aurelian corrected calmly.
Lyra stopped pacing. "Based on what?"
"Based on how you responded."
She folded her arms. "So this is my fault now?"
Aurelian looked up immediately. "No. This is because he finds you interesting."
"That's not comforting."
"It's not meant to be."
---
By afternoon, the world outside resumed pretending nothing was wrong.
News cycles had moved on. Helios stock had stabilized after an official denial. Paparazzi had thinned out.
Normalcy returned like a lie everyone agreed to believe.
Lyra sat on the couch, staring at her phone.
"He's going to do something big," she said quietly.
"Yes."
"When?"
Aurelian closed the laptop. "When we relax."
She swallowed. "I don't think I can relax anymore."
---
The call came at 5:42 p.m.
Not from Elias.
From Mara.
Her voice was shaking.
"Lyra… don't panic."
Lyra stood up instantly. "What happened?"
"There's a video."
Lyra's heart dropped. "Of what?"
"Of you. And Aurelian. At the café. From days ago."
Lyra frowned. "So? We were sitting and talking."
Mara hesitated. "It's edited."
Aurelian was already beside her, taking the phone.
They watched together.
The video was cut carefully. Strategically.
Moments stitched together to suggest intimacy that hadn't existed. Camera angles zoomed. Pauses extended. A narrative fabricated through suggestion.
Lyra's stomach twisted.
"They made it look like—"
"Yes," Aurelian said quietly.
The caption under the video read:
HELIOS CEO SECRETLY FUNDS ARTIST LOVER
Lyra felt heat rise behind her eyes.
"This is disgusting."
"It's deliberate," Aurelian replied.
---
Her phone buzzed.
Elias.
You see how easy it is to create truth?
Lyra's hands trembled.
Aurelian typed back.
This ends now.
The reply came slower than usual.
No. Now it becomes interesting.
Lyra felt something shift in her chest.
Fear was still there.
But something else had joined it.
Resolve.
---
She looked at Aurelian. "We've been reacting this whole time."
"Yes."
"I'm tired of reacting."
He studied her carefully. "What do you want to do?"
Lyra's voice steadied. "I want to step into the story before he writes the next part."
Aurelian's eyes narrowed slightly. "How?"
She took a breath.
"Publicly."
He understood immediately.
And didn't like it.
"No."
"Yes."
"Lyra—"
"He's controlling the narrative because we're hiding from it," she said. "I'm done hiding."
Aurelian's voice dropped. "You don't understand what that invites."
"I understand exactly," she replied. "It invites him to lose control."
---
That evening, Lyra posted a single photo.
No caption.
Just an image of her in the rehearsal hall, microphone in hand, lights above her.
Comments exploded instantly.
Speculation. Support. Insults. Noise.
But Lyra didn't read any of it.
Because the post wasn't for them.
It was for Elias.
Minutes later, her phone buzzed.
You're learning.
Lyra smiled faintly.
She typed back.
No. I'm performing.
This time, the reply took longer.
Much longer.
And when it finally came, it was only three words.
Then perform well.
Lyra stared at the screen.
Because for the first time—
It sounded less like a threat…
And more like a challenge.