Chapter 3: Dangerous Attraction
1501 Words
Morning sunlight poured through the massive glass windows of the Cole mansion, but the warmth never reached Lena.
Nothing inside that house ever felt warm.
Not the expensive furniture.
Not the perfectly decorated walls.
Not even the people living inside it.
Especially not Vivian Cole.
Lena stood barefoot near the kitchen island, lazily stirring coffee while scrolling through her phone. Designer pajamas hugged her slim figure, her dark hair messy from sleep, yet she still looked effortlessly beautiful.
The mansion staff moved around quietly, careful not to disturb the tense silence hanging in the air.
Ever since Elvis arrived, the atmosphere inside the house had changed.
It felt heavier.
Dangerous.
And Lena hated the fact that she could not stop thinking about him.
She had seen attractive men before. Models, actors, rich spoiled boys from elite families — none of them interested her for long.
But Elvis was different.
There was something hidden behind his confidence.
Something broken.
Something real.
And that made him dangerous.
Lena looked up when she heard footsteps entering the kitchen.
Vivian.
Elegant as always.
Perfect makeup.
Perfect posture.
Perfect fake smile.
“You’re awake early,” Vivian said smoothly while reaching for orange juice.
Lena smirked coldly.
“And you’re pretending to be a caring mother again.”
Vivian sighed tiredly.
“Must we do this every morning?”
“As long as you keep bringing strangers into this house? Yes.”
Vivian’s expression hardened slightly.
“Elvis is not your concern.”
Lena laughed softly.
“That’s funny. Considering the way you stare at him.”
Silence.
The tension between them sharpened instantly.
Vivian set her glass down slowly.
“You’re imagining things.”
“Oh, I don’t think I am.”
For a brief second, Vivian’s calm mask cracked.
And Lena noticed.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Before either woman could continue, Elvis walked into the kitchen wearing a fitted black shirt and dark jeans.
The room immediately became awkward.
Lena noticed the slight hesitation in his movement when he realized both women were there.
Vivian recovered first.
“Elvis,” she said softly, her voice instantly warmer. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Lena nearly rolled her eyes at the politeness.
Vivian walked toward him naturally, adjusting the collar of his shirt gently like a possessive wife.
“Breakfast is ready,” she said.
Elvis nodded awkwardly.
Lena watched the interaction carefully.
Too carefully.
And suddenly something unpleasant twisted inside her chest.
Jealousy.
The realization irritated her instantly.
Why should she care?
He was just some stripper her mother dragged home.
But still…
The sight of Vivian touching him made Lena irrationally angry.
“Elvis,” she said suddenly.
His eyes moved toward her.
“Yes?”
“You smoke?”
Vivian frowned immediately.
“Lena—”
“It was a simple question.”
Elvis looked between them carefully before answering.
“Sometimes.”
“Come outside with me later.”
Vivian’s gaze sharpened instantly.
“He’s busy.”
Lena smirked.
“You answered for him pretty fast.”
Elvis sensed danger immediately.
And somehow, he was standing right in the middle of it.
—
Later that evening, Elvis stood alone on one of the mansion balconies overlooking the glowing city skyline.
The Cole mansion felt suffocating sometimes.
Too quiet.
Too luxurious.
Too fake.
He missed the noise of the club.
At least there, people were honest about their desires.
Inside this mansion, everything hid beneath polite smiles and expensive clothes.
“You look uncomfortable here.”
Elvis turned slightly.
Lena.
She leaned casually against the balcony doorway wearing black shorts and an oversized shirt, holding two cigarettes.
“I’m fine,” Elvis replied.
“No, you’re pretending.”
That sounded familiar.
Too familiar.
Lena handed him one cigarette before lighting hers.
For several seconds, silence settled between them.
Oddly comfortable silence.
“You hate her, don’t you?” Elvis finally asked.
Lena laughed bitterly.
“That obvious?”
“You look at her like you want revenge.”
Her expression darkened.
“You have no idea what kind of mother Vivian Cole really is.”
Elvis stayed quiet.
“She cares more about appearances than people,” Lena continued quietly. “Everything in this family is about reputation. Image. Perfection.
“When I was thirteen, I caught my father cheating. Do you know what my mother did?”
Elvis looked at her.
“She blamed me for finding out.”
Pain flickered across her face briefly before disappearing beneath sarcasm again.
“That’s Vivian. She destroys anything that threatens her perfect world.”
For the first time since meeting Lena, Elvis saw something beneath her arrogance.
Loneliness.
Years of it.
“You ever notice,” Lena said softly, “how people with money are usually the emptiest?”
Elvis smirked faintly.
“I work in a nightclub. Trust me, I know.”
That made her laugh genuinely.
And somehow, hearing her laugh felt dangerous.
Because Elvis realized he liked it.
Too much.
“You’re not what I expected,” Lena admitted.
“What did you expect?”
“A shallow pretty boy.”
“And now?”
She looked directly into his eyes.
“Now I think you’re hiding things.”
Elvis looked away first.
Because she was right.
—
Over the next few days, things became worse.
Or better.
Depending on how one looked at it.
Lena found excuses to be around Elvis constantly.
She interrupted his conversations with Vivian.
Sat too close beside him during dinner.
Touched him casually when speaking.
And Vivian noticed every single thing.
Her possessiveness became impossible to hide.
She bought Elvis expensive watches.
Designer suits.
Shoes worth more than most people’s salaries.
Every gift felt less like kindness and more like ownership.
Elvis hated it.
But he also felt trapped.
Because part of him enjoyed the comfort.
The luxury.
The attention.
And that scared him.
One night, after another tense dinner filled with silent warfare between mother and daughter, Elvis escaped toward the mansion poolside for fresh air.
The water reflected blue lights beautifully beneath the night sky.
For once, the mansion felt peaceful.
Until Lena appeared again.
“You keep running away,” she said.
Elvis sighed.
“You keep following me.”
“Maybe I like following you.”
He looked at her carefully.
“You shouldn’t say things like that.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
Lena stepped closer slowly.
“You think I care about my mother’s feelings?”
“This isn’t a game anymore, Lena.”
Her expression softened slightly.
“I know.”
The honesty in her voice caught him off guard.
For several seconds, neither moved.
The tension between them became almost unbearable.
Lena looked beautiful beneath the pool lights.
Too beautiful.
And Elvis suddenly became very aware of how close she was standing.
“You know what’s funny?” Lena whispered.
“What?”
“I started talking to you because I wanted to expose my mother.”
Elvis swallowed quietly.
“And now?”
Her eyes dropped briefly to his lips.
“Now I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Danger.
Everything about this moment screamed danger.
Elvis knew he should walk away.
Immediately.
But he couldn’t.
Not when she looked at him like that.
Not when loneliness recognized loneliness.
Lena stepped even closer.
Close enough for him to smell her perfume.
Close enough for his heartbeat to betray him.
“Elvis…”
He lifted his hand unconsciously, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
And the second he touched her, something shifted.
The air.
The tension.
The control between them snapped instantly.
Lena’s breathing slowed.
Her eyes softened.
Then Elvis leaned closer without thinking.
And Lena tilted her head upward slightly.
Their lips were inches apart.
One more second.
That was all it would take.
But suddenly—
“What the hell is going on here?”
Vivian’s voice exploded across the poolside.
Both of them froze instantly.
Lena stepped back sharply while Elvis turned around.
Vivian stood near the entrance wearing a silk robe, fury burning violently inside her eyes.
She looked terrifying.
Not elegant.
Not composed.
Terrifying.
Her gaze moved between them.
Then landed on Elvis.
“How dare you,” she whispered.
“Elvis didn’t do anything,” Lena snapped immediately.
Vivian ignored her completely.
“You touch my daughter now?”
“Oh my God,” Lena laughed angrily. “Listen to yourself!”
Vivian finally looked at her.
And something inside her seemed to break.
“You pathetic little girl,” Vivian hissed.
Lena stepped forward fearlessly.
“At least I’m not sleeping with a man young enough to be my brother.”
The slap echoed violently across the poolside.
Elvis flinched.
Lena’s head snapped sideways from the force.
For several seconds, silence filled the air.
Vivian’s chest rose heavily with rage.
Then she pointed directly at Lena with shaking fingers and screamed:
“STAY AWAY FROM WHAT BELONGS TO ME!”
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