Chapter7
687 Words
Chapter Seven: Her Name Was Elise
The rain fell hard that morning, streaking the tall windows of the penthouse like tears the sky couldn’t hold back.
Lina found Alexander in the music room—of all places—seated at a grand piano she didn’t know he could play.
His fingers moved gently over the keys, conjuring a haunting melody. Not classical. Not joyful. A memory in sound.
She stepped in quietly, not wanting to disturb him.
But he spoke without looking up. “You hover like a ghost, Mrs. Wolfe.”
She smiled despite herself. “I didn’t know you played.”
“I rarely do.” His voice was low. “It reminds me.”
“Of what?”
He stopped playing.
A long pause.
Then he turned to her, eyes shadowed. “Of someone I let die.”
The words chilled her. “What do you mean?”
“She was my fiancée. Elise. Six years ago.” His jaw clenched. “She drowned. I was supposed to be with her, but I stayed behind for a meeting I thought I couldn’t miss.”
Lina sat slowly across from him. “I’m so sorry, Alexander.”
“She was bright. Kind. Annoyingly optimistic.” He chuckled darkly. “She believed I could be more than I was.”
“And now?” she asked gently.
“Now I make sure no one gets close enough to expect anything from me.”
⸻
The silence between them stretched, not awkward—but heavy.
Lina reached for his hand, half-expecting him to pull away.
He didn’t.
“You don’t have to live like a ghost,” she whispered. “You’re still here.”
His eyes met hers. For once, unguarded. “You make it hard to stay frozen, Lina.”
She wanted to kiss him. Not because of the contract. Not for appearances. Just because she felt something. Something real.
But he stood suddenly, brushing past her. “We should leave for the charity gala soon. Wear something black.”
The moment was gone.
But the truth had cracked the surface.
⸻
That evening, the limo glided through city lights as if floating through another world. Alexander sat beside her in silence, his hand resting near hers, but not touching.
The charity gala was hosted by one of his business rivals, a smug CEO named Marcus Klein. The room sparkled with glass and pretense. Champagne flowed like water. And everyone had a secret agenda.
“You look stunning,” Alexander murmured as he helped Lina out of the car.
She blinked, surprised by the compliment. “Thank you.”
Inside, people whispered behind crystal flutes, sizing her up. Lina held her head high, remembering Darren’s words: Don’t let them see you shake.
Marcus Klein approached with a smirk. “So this is the new Mrs. Wolfe. Charming. Where did you find her, Alex? At an auction?”
Alexander’s jaw tightened. “Watch your mouth.”
Lina slipped her hand through his arm. “Actually, he found me in the fire. And I haven’t stopped burning since.”
The smirk vanished.
Alexander looked at her, amused and… proud?
⸻
After hours of fake smiles and half-hearted toasts, they returned to the penthouse.
“You were… impressive tonight,” he said, removing his cufflinks.
“So were you,” Lina replied.
He turned to her. “You didn’t have to defend me.”
“I wasn’t defending you. I was defending us.”
He looked at her then, not with cold detachment—but with something far more dangerous.
Need.
Hope.
She stepped closer. “Why did you tell me about Elise?”
“I don’t know,” he whispered. “But I haven’t talked about her in six years. And when I saw you in that room… I wanted you to know.”
Lina pressed a hand to his chest. His heart was racing.
“We don’t have to keep pretending, Alex.”
He leaned in.
And this time, when their lips met, there was no performance.
Only the terrifying truth:
They were no longer faking anything.
- Writer
