As Mine
1151 Words
Chapter Five: As Mine
Elara barely slept.
Caspian’s final words echoed louder than any dream could:
> "You’ll be attending. Not as a staff… but as mine."
What did that even mean?
She wasn’t his girlfriend. She wasn’t his anything. She was an assistant—newly promoted, barely trained, barely breathing. And yet, she’d be attending a billionaire gala… at his side?
She paced the edge of her suite, tablet in hand, rereading the message Soren had sent after the meeting:
> Black evening gown will be delivered at 5:00 p.m. sharp. Hair and makeup team at 6:00. Driver collects you at 7:30. Do not be late. — Soren
No address. No explanation.
Just orders.
By the time the stylist team arrived, Elara felt like she was in someone else’s body. One woman worked on her hair, another handled makeup. A third stood near the garment bag like a security detail.
“Elara Dawn?” the lead stylist asked.
“Yes.”
The woman nodded. “Your face is a dream. He has good taste.”
Elara flushed. “I’m not—”
“You are tonight,” the woman said. “Trust me.”
An hour later, she barely recognized herself in the mirror.
Her hair was twisted into a low knot, sleek but soft. Her makeup was smoky but elegant—cheekbones sharp, lips tinted wine red. The dress… was something else.
Black silk, floor-length, with a slit that climbed her thigh and a neckline that dared the stars to look away. It hugged her body without apology, like it had been waiting for her.
“Jewelry?” she asked the stylists.
The woman smiled mysteriously. “He said he’d provide it himself.”
The statement chilled her more than it should’ve.
At exactly 7:28 p.m., a black Bentley with mirrored windows waited in the front courtyard. The estate staff watched her as she descended the steps. For once, she didn’t feel invisible.
She felt like a warning.
---
The gala was held in the heart of Valerio Tower, in a ballroom at the top floor with sweeping views of the city skyline. Gold chandeliers. Live strings. Guests dressed like royalty.
But Elara’s nerves didn’t settle until she saw him.
Caspian stood by the bar, dressed in a charcoal tux that made his presence even more lethal. His dark hair was brushed back, jawline defined like marble. He didn’t just belong in this world—he commanded it.
When he saw her, his gaze didn’t flicker.
It locked.
And when he crossed the room to meet her, the crowd seemed to part like instinct.
“Elara,” he said simply.
“Mr. Valerio,” she replied, voice quieter than she intended.
He tilted his head. “You look like a storm in silk.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but he raised a hand first.
From his pocket, he pulled a slim black box.
“Your collar,” he said.
Her heart stopped.
Then he opened it.
Inside wasn’t a collar—but a necklace. Thin gold chain. At its center, a tiny pendant shaped like a key.
He fastened it around her neck without asking.
“The first key unlocked my world,” he said, his fingers brushing her bare collarbone. “This one means you belong in it.”
The music swelled behind them, but all Elara could hear was her pulse.
“I don’t—belong here,” she whispered.
His hand lingered for a moment longer, then dropped.
“You do now.”
---
The night was a blur of clinking glasses and veiled conversations.
Caspian didn’t hover, but he didn’t stray far either. Every so often, she’d feel his gaze from across the ballroom, unreadable but unmistakably sharp.
People whispered about her. She could feel it in the glances, the smiles too tight to be friendly.
One woman approached—tall, blond, elegance wrapped in ice.
“You’re the assistant,” she said without a greeting.
Elara nodded cautiously. “Yes.”
“I was his assistant once.”
Elara’s smile faltered. “Oh?”
“Until I became something else.” Her eyes glittered. “Let me give you some advice.”
“I’m listening.”
“Don’t confuse proximity for permanence.” She sipped her drink. “Caspian Valerio doesn’t keep anything he can’t control.”
Before Elara could respond, the woman turned and disappeared into the crowd.
That voice stayed behind.
Control.
Was that what this was? Was she being tested, or molded?
She found Caspian again, this time standing by the window with an older man in a navy suit.
As she approached, his eyes flicked to her, then to the man.
“Elara,” he said. “This is Roman Cale—investment magnate, and one of our largest private partners.”
Roman turned.
His eyes narrowed.
“You brought her?” he asked Caspian directly, not hiding the disdain in his voice.
“I did.”
Roman chuckled. “You’re playing dangerous games, Valerio. Pretty faces don’t last in rooms like these.”
“She’s not here to last,” Caspian said coldly. “She’s here to learn.”
Roman glanced at Elara one last time. “Then God help her.”
He walked off.
Elara turned to Caspian. “Was that... normal?”
He didn’t look at her.
“You’ll learn the difference between normal and necessary.”
They stood in silence for a moment, the city lights pulsing beneath them.
“You haven’t asked why you’re really here,” he said finally.
“I thought I wasn’t allowed questions.”
He smiled—barely. “True. But you’re not just here to look pretty.”
“Then why am I?”
He turned to face her fully. “Because tonight, someone in this room wants to betray me. And I want to see how well you notice lies when they wear tuxedos.”
She stared at him. “You brought me as a human detector?”
“I brought you because I trust your instincts more than you do.”
He leaned in then, his mouth dangerously close to her ear.
“And because no one suspects a girl in heels.”
Just as he pulled back, another man approached—older, lean, with a cane and eyes too sharp to be kind.
“Valerio,” the man said. “And this must be the girl.”
Elara braced herself.
But Caspian didn’t move.
He just offered his hand, smile cool.
“Elara, meet my uncle,” he said.
“Head of the Valerio family.”
---
Suddenly, everything—the hidden floor, the red door, the tension in Caspian’s voice when he said “mine”—clicked into place.
Elara’s body ran cold
She hadn’t just stepped into the billionaire world.
She’d stepped into something darker.
And now, it was watching her.
—
- Writer
