Wounded Heart

Chapter 17 First interaction

Williams sat in the dimly lit bar, his eyes fixed on Elena as she sat across from him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, that she wasn't the same vibrant woman he remembered. As he observed her, he couldn't help but wonder, "Is this really Elena?"

She seemed different, distant even, lost in her own thoughts. Her once bright eyes now lacked their usual sparkle, and her demeanor was subdued, a far cry from the lively spirit he had come to know. Williams couldn't understand why she hadn't sought him out since returning to the city. It was unlike her to stay away without so much as a word.

"Why hasn't she come for me?" he pondered silently, his mind racing with unanswered questions. In the past, she had always been relentless in her pursuit, never hesitating to pester him with her endless curiosity. But now, there was only silence between them, a silence that spoke volumes.

With each passing moment, Williams felt a growing sense of unease.But as he watched her from across the table, he couldn't shake the feeling that she was slipping away from him, that their connection was fading into the distance.

Elena turned to Jason, her expression grave. "We have to leave here now, Jason," she insisted, her voice urgent.

"Yeah, sure, if that's what you want," Jason replied, his tone betraying his confusion.

Williams glanced at his assistant, Stewart, who met his gaze with understanding. Without a word, Stewart intercepted Elena and Jason as they headed for the door of the bar.

"Mrs. Hunter, please, Mr. Hunter wants to see you," Stewart said, his tone respectful but firm.

Elena's jaw tightened at the mention of her former surname. "I'm not Mrs. Hunter," she retorted, her voice tinged with bitterness. "If you seem to have forgotten, we are divorced."

Jason's eyes widened in shock at Stewart's address. He quickly composed himself and spoke up. "As you can see, we are already leaving. So, if you don't mind, excuse us."

Stewart stood his ground, his expression unwavering. He didn't move to block their path, but he didn't step aside either, waiting for Elena to make her decision willingly.

"It's best you stay out of what doesn't concern

you, Dr. Jason," Stewart said, his voice carrying a subtle warning.

Elena knew she couldn't escape the dire situation unfolding around her. The weight of impending danger hung heavy in the air, suffocating any hope of a swift resolution. She turned to Jason, his concern etched deeply into his furrowed brow, and mustered the strength to utter the words she had been dreading.

"You can go, Jason," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll find my way home later."

Jason's eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of confusion and protest swirling within their depths. "What? No, Elena," he countered, his tone laced with stubborn determination. "I brought you here; I should be the one to drop you home."

Elena shook her head, a sad smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You don't understand, Jason," she insisted, her voice gaining a steely edge. "I'll be fine. Just go home."

"But—" Jason began, only to be cut off by the sudden rise in Elena's voice. "No buts, Jason, please," she pleaded, her desperation bleeding into her words. She knew the kind of person Williams was, the depths of his ruthlessness, and she couldn't bear the thought of involving Jason in her already messed up life. She knew Jason had feelings for her but he just have to understand that she was already messed up.

With a heavy sigh, Jason relented, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He turned on his heel and left, his footsteps echoing hollowly in the empty space. Elena watched him go, a pang of guilt gnawing at her insides. She had made the right choice, she told herself, yet the ache of loneliness lingered in his absence.

Alone once more, Elena squared her shoulders and steeled herself for what lay ahead. She followed Stewart to the executive section of the bar, her mind racing with the weight of her decisions. she drew closer to the heart of the storm, determined to face whatever awaited her but deep down she was scared to hell.

Elena found herself seated across from Williams in the executive section of the bar, a palpable tension hanging heavy in the air between them. Williams lounged casually, as if she were a mere afterthought, his attention divided between his wine and the occasional piercing glance in her direction.

Silence enveloped them like a suffocating shroud, each moment stretching into eternity as they regarded each other with veiled intensity. It was Williams who finally broke the silence, his voice cutting through the thick atmosphere like a knife.

"It's been two years," he remarked, his tone deceptively casual. "Why did you decide to return to the city?"

Elena's gaze narrowed, a flicker of disbelief crossing her features. Was he truly addressing her, or was this some twisted game of his? She remained silent, her mind racing with a thousand unspoken thoughts.

"Why do you even look like this?" Williams continued, his gaze lingering on the scars marring her once flawless complexion. Due to her constant maltreatment in prison Elena had deep scars on her face.

Elena's jaw clenched, her fists balling at her sides. "What do you expect, Williams?" she shot back, her voice laced with bitterness. "I was in prison. What does it matter to you how I look?"

Williams leaned back in his seat, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "So tell me, then, Elena," he pressed, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "Are you short of money? Is that why you came to look for me in this bar, knowing it's where I always come?"

Elena's blood ran cold at his words, her resolve hardening like steel. "Think whatever you want," she retorted, her voice dripping with defiance. "But I won't explain myself to you."

Is that so? Williams said looking at her, he couldn’t help but notice something different even in her behavior.