THE MAN BEHIND MY MARRIAGE

Elara Bale had learned one important thing about working with wealthy people. "Nothing was ever allowed to look difficult." A bride could be crying in a bathroom, a florist could arrive with the wrong flowers, and a billionaire's guest could be demanding a table change five minutes before dinner, and somehow, Elara was expected to smile and make everything look effortless. Tonight was no different. She stood in the middle of the Grand Pistoria's ballroom, holding a clipboard against her chest as she watched the final preparations come together. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, filling the room with warm golden light. Round tables covered in ivory linen stretched across the ballroom, each one decorated with white roses and tall glass candles. Everything looked perfect. At least from a distance. "Elara." Somebody called out her name. She turned. Sophie Bennett hurried toward her, one hand holding her phone while the other balanced a stack of place cards. "Tell me you fixed the problem with table twelve." "I did." "And the florist?" "Handled." "The champagne?" "Delivered." "The bride's mother?" Elara gave her a look. Sophie stopped. "Okay. Don't tell me." "She's fine now." Sophie sighed with relief. "You are terrifyingly good at this." "I'm just doing my job." "No. You're doing the job of three people while getting paid for one." Elara smiled faintly. "That's why you're my favourite person." "I'm your only person." "Exactly." Sophie rolled her eyes and walked away. Elara looked around the ballroom again. Tonight's event wasn't a wedding, although it had all the extravagance of one. It was a private charity gala hosted by the Willoubly family, attended by some of New York's most powerful names. The kind of event where people arrived in cars worth more than the apartment Elara had spent years saving to afford. She had grown used to that world. Not because she belonged to it. Because she worked around it. Her job had taught her how to move through rooms filled with wealth without letting herself feel small. She checked her watch. Twenty minutes until the guests arrived. "Elara." Her smile disappeared. She knew that voice. Slowly, she turned toward the entrance. And for one strange second, the entire room seemed to go silent. He stood several feet away. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in a perfectly fitted black suit that made him look exactly like the man she had spent five years trying not to remember. Cassian Laurenth. Her breath caught. It couldn't be. Not here. Not tonight. But it was him. His dark hair was neatly styled, his expression controlled and unreadable. The sharp lines of his face looked harder than she remembered. Older. More powerful. His deep grey eyes moved across the ballroom. Then they found hers. Elara couldn't move. Neither could he. For a moment, they simply stared at each other. Five years disappeared. She was twenty. A university student with a scholarship she couldn't afford to lose. He was the charming Laurenth heir who had somehow made her forget that they came from completely different worlds. She remembered his laugh. The late-night conversations. The way he used to look at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention. Then she remembered the night she left. Elara forced herself back into the present. She lowered her eyes to the clipboard in her hands. Professional. She could do professional. "Mr Laurenth." Her voice sounded steadier than she felt. Cassian didn't answer immediately. When he finally did, his voice was deeper than she remembered. "Elara." Just her name. Yet somehow, it felt like an accusation. She looked up. His expression hadn't changed, but something in his eyes had. "You work here?" "I'm coordinating the event." "I see." There was a pause. An uncomfortable, heavy pause. Elara glanced toward the ballroom. "We're almost ready. If you'd like, I can have someone show you to the private lounge." "I'm not here for the lounge." Her fingers tightened around the clipboard. Of course he wasn't. She had known this moment would eventually happen. At some point in life, the past always found a way to knock on the door. She just hadn't expected it to wear a black suit and stand six feet away from her. "Then what are you here for?" she asked. His eyes remained on hers. "The Willoughby's event." "Right." The corner of his mouth moved slightly. It wasn't a smile. "You're nervous." "No." "You still lie when you're nervous." Her heart skipped. He remembered. Of course he remembered. Before she could answer, Sophie appeared beside her. "Elara, the—" She stopped when she noticed Cassian. Her eyes moved between them. Then widened. "Oh." Elara gave her a warning look. Sophie ignored it. "You're Cassian Laurenth." Cassian looked at her. "Unfortunately." Sophie blinked. Elara almost smiled. Almost. "Mr Laurenth, this is Sophie Bennett. She's one of our senior planners." "Nice to meet you." Sophie smiled politely. "Likewise." She looked at Elara again. There was a question in her eyes. A very obvious one. Elara silently begged her not to ask it. Thankfully, Sophie understood. "I need you in the west wing," Sophie said quickly. "There's an issue with the seating chart." "Coming." Elara turned to leave. "Elara." She stopped. She hated that her body still reacted to his voice. She slowly turned back. Cassian was watching her with an expression she couldn't read. "You haven't changed." Her chest tightened. "Neither have you." His eyes darkened. "That's not true." Before she could ask what he meant, he turned away. Elara stood there for another second. Then she walked after Sophie. She didn't look back. She couldn't. Not when every step felt like she was walking away from the same man all over again. By the time the first guests arrived, Elara had forced herself back into work mode. She greeted guests, directed staff, checked tables, and solved problems before dinner had even begun. But no matter how busy she became, she could feel him. Cassian was somewhere in the ballroom. She didn't need to look to know. Her body remembered him before her mind could stop it. She hated that. "You're staring." Elara nearly dropped the place cards in her hand. She turned to Sophie. "I'm working." "You're working very intensely in one direction." "I'm checking the tables." "Of course." Elara sighed. "Sophie." "I'm not saying anything." "You are." "I'm thinking very loudly." Elara shook her head. Then Sophie leaned closer. "Who is he?" Elara's expression changed. "Nobody." Sophie stared at her. "Nobody doesn't make you look like you've seen a ghost." Elara looked across the room. Cassian was speaking to a group of businessmen. He looked completely comfortable. Untouchable. Like he hadn't just walked back into her life and turned five years of carefully buried memories upside down. "He's someone I knew a long time ago," she said quietly. Sophie studied her face. "And?" "And nothing." Before Sophie could respond, a voice came from behind them. "Elara." Her stomach dropped. She turned. Cassian stood there. Alone. His eyes were fixed on her. Not Sophie. Her. "I need to speak with you." Elara swallowed. "About the event?" "No." His gaze didn't move. "About us." And for the first time that evening, Elara realised something terrifying. Cassian Laurenth hadn't come back into her life by accident. He had been looking for her.