Episode four
985 Words
Chapter 4 – The Gentleman vs. The Beast
I was on my knees on my bedroom floor, folding clothes into a suitcase that wasn't even mine. My mom had pulled it out of storage when I told her I'd be moving. She hadn't asked me questions, just looked concerned, then left me to it.
Half of my closet was still unexplored. I had no clue what to pack to move into Adrian's home. Did I bring pajamas? Daily wear? Would I even have a normal life there?
The knock on my door startled me.
"Elena?"
The voice was familiar. I stood quickly and opened the door.
"Damian?"
He stood there with a soft smile, his hands tucked in his pockets. "I figured you'd need some help packing."
I blinked. "How did you—?"
"Your mother told me. I ran into her downstairs."
Of course she did. I stepped aside. "Come in."
He did and regarded the half-packed suitcase. "This looks. rushed."
"It is," I admitted.
He got down on his knees beside the suitcase and started to properly fold one of my shirts. "You were never good at folding."
I laughed. "Still not."
We packed in silence for a little while. Then he cleared his throat. "So. Adrian Blackwell?
I hesitated before answering. "Yes."
"You're engaged to him?"
"That's what the papers say."
He gave me a sharp look. "That's not an answer."
I sat on the bed. "It just… happened."
"Elena." His tone was stern. "You expect me to believe you just happened to become engaged to one of the most feared men in the city?"
I bit my lip. "It's a flash marriage kind of thing. We met two months ago. We couldn't wait."
The words escaped my mouth, and even I was not certain if I was lying.
Damian's eyes narrowed. "That doesn't sound like you."
"What do you mean?"
"You've always been careful. You think things through. This… this isn't you."
I emitted a forced little laugh. "Maybe I changed."
He looked at me for a long time, like he was trying to read me. Then he sighed and picked up another stack of clothes. "If you say so."
I didn't know why his question was suspicious, but it was. He wasn't just curious—he was digging.
"Damian," I said quietly. "Don't ever say his name again to me."
His eyebrows rose. "That serious?"
"Yes."
He nodded slowly, though I could tell he didn't believe me.
We filled some more. He tried to make light of the situation by talking about inconsequential things—college life, professors we hated, embarrassing moments. At one point, he reminded me of the time I slipped on stage during a presentation.
I groaned. "Why would you remind me of that?"
"Because you gave me the evil eye from the floor as if it was my fault."
"I was humiliated!"
He laughed, and despite myself, I laughed as well. It was natural, and that scared me.
When he was done, the suitcase was nearly full. He paused in the doorway. "Elena… if you need anything, you know where to find me."
I forced a smile. "I'll be fine."
"Doesn't hurt to remind you," he said softly and departed.
The second society event came earlier than I expected. I had barely had time to settle in Adrian's house before we were again in a hall, another dinner table, another sea of faces.
Adrian was his typical calm and distant self. He escorted me to the table, nodded at people, spoke to them in short sentences.
Damian was there too. I spotted him across the room, and when he saw me, his face lit up.
He stopped by during the mingling part of the evening. "Elena," he said with a welcoming smile, ignoring Adrian for the moment. "You look beautiful."
I blushed. "Thank you."
Adrian's jaw tightened beside me, but he said nothing.
Damian chuckled. "Remember when you wore sweatpants to class every day in college? Hard to believe this is the same woman."
I rolled my eyes. "You're exaggerating."
"I'm not. Your hair was up in a bun half the time, and you had three notebooks that you lugged around. I wasn't sure if you were secretly running the whole school."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Stop embarrassing me."
People nearby glanced over, curious. Damian leaned in closer. "See? That's the laugh that I remember."
My face flushed again.
Adrian's hand wandered to the small of my back, firm. He finally spoke. "Damian, don't you have other people to charm?"
Damian smiled. "Maybe. But I like catching up with old friends." He glanced at me once more. "We should catch up over coffee sometime. Just the two of us. For old times' sake."
Damian didn't have a chance to reply before Adrian's grip firmed. "She doesn't drink coffee."
I scowled. "That's not true—"
"We're going," Adrian cut in, his voice low.
He pulled me away so fast I'd hardly had time to say goodbye. We walked into a less busy hall. My arm ached from his grip.
"Adrian—"
He spun on me, eyes blazing. "Enough."
"Enough what?"
"Enough smiling at him. Enough laughing with him. You're mine." His voice was low, raspy.
I gazed at him, shocked. "This is pretend. You reminded me yourself."
His hand swept around my jaw without warning, forcing me to look at him. "Fake or not, you belong to me."
There was no time to respond before his mouth crashed down on mine.
The kiss was angry, violent, nothing like what I had fantasized. His grip was tight, his lips demanding. My whole body stiffened, then flamed.
When he let me go, I trembled.
He glared down at me, his breathing uneven. "Don't forget it."
I was frozen. I couldn't even speak.
Was that part of the act? Or was it something else?
I couldn't tell.
- Writer
