Chapter 11

Elena’s pov.

Assistant huh? She seemed a little too enthusiastic about her job. I thought as my mind flashed back to the woman,

I tried hard, but failed to get the issue out of my head.

Were they having something or had they had something in the past?

Why was she being so protective and paying me those side looks?

Standing in front of the vanity, my thoughts lingered as I mulled myself in perfume.

I sighed.

Why do I even care?

It’s not like Horace owed me any loyalty before or present.

We are nothing, and the relationship is just a front.

Then it hit me.

Wait, he didn’t tell his assistant about our little arrangement?

This truly left me with a sense of wonder.

Maybe relief too.

The last thing I wanted at the moment was for someone else to know the real deal between us and expose it. I couldn’t let Michael, his disgusting little wife, and his sorry excuse of parents discover something that big.

And the fact that Horace seemingly hadn’t spilled it to someone else made me feel some type of way.

I couldn’t put it into words, but I felt deeply grateful and

Truly respected. Something I hadn’t felt in a while.

With Michael, I never truly got a sense of that, but I didn’t complain.

He’s my Mae Afterall, things were bound to get better.

But they didn’t.

Yet, I endured. I couldn’t bear to think of doing anything otherwise because I felt it would make me seem ungrateful.

To show my appreciation, I ignored things, forgave others, even from his family, but none was enough.

He didn’t think twice about betraying me. My love. Trust that I had for him.

But thankfully, all that had come to an end.

I took a step backward, getting a full view of myself in the mirror.

I was clad in a simple black dress, pleated downwards the hemline below the knee.

It clung to my body lightly, outlining my curves in seamless efforts.

My shoes slipped gently into black stilettos.

My sandy brown hair was packed up with a mix of professionalism and looks serving in mind.

Matching the small brown bag I carried.

My makeup, not that I even needed it, was simple and done to keep up with appearances.

When my enemies saw me, I wanted them to know I was living my best life.

I hadn’t packed any of my things as I didn't think I’d be living in the White House, especially so suddenly, but surprisingly and thankfully, Horace let me use some of my late wife’s clothes.

At first, I turned it down.

However, he insisted.

“My son calls you mother, Lena.” He said a name he had come to start calling me out of nowhere. There was always a gentility in his voice whenever he called me this. And against my better senses, it always made my heart flutter.

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you in something of hers. And trust me, she wouldn’t mind too.”

He had said, assuring me that it was okay for me to use them until we got something for me.

And to my surprise, there was no difference in our body size. Everything fitted me perfectly.

My eyes found my cleavage, slightly exposed, and at first I wanted to cover it up. An effort to try and avoid any kind of sizzling moments between us.

But, I soon realized that it was impossible.

No matter how hard I pulled the dress together, nothing changed.

My bosoms only bounced back to their original state.

And it was too late to try out another dress.

Moon goddess, help me. Let it be that he has already left the mansion. I prayed silently.

We were already almost late for Ethan’s appointment at the hospital.

I closed my eyes, drawing a deep exhale before making for the door.

My heels kissed the marble floor as I made my way down the stairs until I got outside.

And to my greatest horror, he was standing right there.

Hands in pocket, looking sharp and ready.

He was donned in a black suit. Tight around his body, defining those hardcore muscles that seemed like they could break any man in half without even trying too hard.

My eyes found his lips, red. Full.

Then they traveled to his eyes, only to be met with his stare.

Long. Hard.

A smirk plastered across his face, outlining the tight chisel in his jaw. He had a look that screamed,

I can read your thoughts through your face.

Like he knew I was checking him out.

My heart skipped. My fingers were twitching as I tried to steady my legs that seemed to have grown a mind of their own.

I looked away hurriedly. Afraid of what I could do right there in public if I didn’t get a grasp on myself.

What the hell, was that even possible? How did this man always manage to read me like an open book?

Beside him stood the assistant of the year. Face thwarted into something ominous.

Then, “mama.” Ethan’s tiny voice rang out. Bringing me back from whatever high cloud I was on.

“Hey, baby.” I walked to join him, lifting his small body off the ground.

“You look beautiful in that.” He mumbled. Melting my heart behind explainable measures.

Something ticked in me, and I wanted to protect this little boy with everything in me. Protect his happiness and innocence.

I had to.

And it was going to begin with this trip to the hospital.

I needed to understand what was really going on with him.

I swallowed hard, turning my gaze to meet his. Mouthing silent prayers to the moon goddess for the gift of self-control.

“We’re ready.”

He looked at me for a second, held my small face in his hand that seemed almost ten times the size of mine.

“Alright, baby.” He groaned. Voice wicked. “I’ll drop you off.”

My lashes fluttered at the small gesture. I thought he would kiss me.

Maybe I wanted him. No. Not me. My wolf did. It had to be her, definitely not me.

Get a grip on yourself. I begged my wolf in my head.

I fixed Ethan into his car seat, and just as I tried to pull the passenger side open, his hand blocked mine. Swinging the door opened in a measured pace.

“Thank you.” I managed as I steadied myself in the seat, too scared that he could hear my heartbeat.

He popped his head in to meet mine, face. Lips barely inches from mine.

I froze.