Chapter 8
746 Words
Kiss and Tell
By morning, the rain was gone—but the storm wasn’t.
Leona woke up first, curled on her assigned half of the bed, still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Elias was on the other side, fully dressed but fast asleep, a hand resting loosely on his stomach like he’d passed out mid-plan.
She studied him in the soft light.
He looked… normal. Less Thorne, more man. Eyelashes too long. Brow furrowed, even in sleep. Like he was battling something invisible.
She didn’t know why, but part of her wanted to smooth that tension away.
Instead, she got up quietly and made coffee.
Two hours later, they were in the back of a black car, on their way to a charity gala they hadn’t planned to attend—but had to, now that the tabloids had announced their “surprise wedding” in screaming, love-sick headlines.
BILLIONAIRE THORNE WEDS IN SECRET: WHO IS LEONA VALE?
Some articles speculated it was a rushed elopement. Others suggested she was already pregnant.
She wasn’t sure which was more insulting.
“You don’t have to say much tonight,” Elias murmured, adjusting his cufflinks. “Just stay close. Smile. Don’t slap anyone unless they really deserve it.”
“What if they mention the clinic?”
“I’ll handle it.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You?”
He glanced at her. “You married me, sweetheart. Might as well use the perks.”
The gala was all crystal chandeliers and six-figure dresses. Wealth on display like a weapon. Elias moved through it like he was born of it—because he was.
Leona, on the other hand, walked like she was navigating landmines.
Then she saw him.
Franklin Thorne. Elias’ father.
Silver-haired. Broad-shouldered. Eyes like a hawk sizing up a weaker bird. He was speaking to someone, but the second he noticed them, his gaze pinned Elias in place.
“Well,” Franklin said as they approached, voice cool. “You’ve always had a flair for dramatics.”
“Hello, Father,” Elias said evenly. “Enjoying the press circus?”
“I would’ve preferred to be invited to the main event. Assuming there was one. Or did you simply walk into a courtroom and bribe a judge?”
Elias stiffened, but didn’t rise to it. “That’s not really your business anymore.”
Franklin turned to Leona, smile razor-thin. “So you’re the woman who stole my son’s good sense.”
Leona smiled back, just as sharp. “And you’re the man who thinks respect is earned by bank accounts. We’re going to get along great.”
Franklin let out a low chuckle. “Spirited. You’ll burn out quickly in this world.”
“Maybe,” she said, locking eyes. “But I’ll do it on my terms.”
Elias reached for her hand—not like a performance this time. Just a quiet, steady grip. She let him take it.
Franklin’s smirk faded.
And then he walked away.
Later, outside on the balcony, Leona let the cold night air soothe her skin.
Elias joined her, jacket off, drink in hand. “That could’ve gone worse.”
“He hates me.”
“He hates everyone.”
Leona turned to him. “That’s why you’re really doing all this, isn’t it?”
He blinked. “What?”
“This marriage. The show. The control. You’re not just trying to protect me—you’re trying to beat him.”
He looked away, sipping his drink.
“I spent my whole life trying not to become him,” Elias said finally. “But sometimes, to win in his world, I have to play by his rules. I just… didn’t expect you.”
“What do you mean?”
He stepped closer. “You make me forget the game. Even when you’re yelling at me.”
She didn’t respond.
Because that same feeling—sharp, dizzy, confusing—was twisting in her gut too.
A pause.
Then he whispered, “I’m going to kiss you now.”
“You shouldn’t,” she breathed.
“I know.”
And then he did.
Slow, deliberate, nothing about it staged. No cameras. No audience. Just her and Elias and the kind of kiss that didn’t feel fake at all.
When they finally pulled apart, she didn’t step away.
She just whispered, “That wasn’t part of the deal.”
And he said, “No. But it’s the only part that felt real.”
- Writer
