11

Elara smiled.

Right now, she wasn’t thinking about the consequences.

She wasn’t thinking about Alex, or his cold gaze, or the strange intensity behind his words.

She was thinking about one thing.

A hundred million dollars.

The number echoed in her mind like a drumbeat.

It wasn’t just money—it was security. Freedom. Power. A future where she would never have to struggle again. A future where her family would never have to worry about survival, bills, or limitations.

A hundred million dollars wasn’t small.

It was life-changing.

It was everything.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the document as she reached for the pen he had placed on the table.

There was no hesitation.

No second thoughts.

She didn’t even glance down at the contents again.

She signed.

Quickly. Smoothly. Like it meant nothing.

The faint scratching sound of the pen against paper filled the quiet room for a moment before she placed it back down.

“There,” she said lightly, almost casually.

Alex didn’t move immediately.

He simply watched her.

Then, slowly, he reached forward and took the documents from her hand.

“You didn’t bother reading it?” he asked, his tone calm but there was something beneath it. Something observant.

Elara shrugged as she stood up, smoothing her dress.

“I don’t have time,” she replied, glancing toward the door. “I’m late for work.”

Her voice was dismissive, almost careless.

As if the contract she had just signed held no weight at all.

Alex’s lips curved into a smirk.

Exactly what he expected.

Of course she didn’t read it.

The moment he mentioned money, he knew.

People like her—people who had struggled, who had lived without luxury—always reacted the same way when faced with that kind of amount.

They stopped thinking.

They stopped questioning.

They just accepted.

And she had done exactly that.

He stood up as well, reaching into his suit pocket before pulling out a sleek black debit card.

Without a word, he held it out to her.

Elara’s gaze dropped to it, her eyes lighting up faintly.

“The pin is 4444,” he said.

She nodded quickly, taking it from him without hesitation.

“Thank you,” she said, though her tone carried more excitement than gratitude.

She slipped the card into her bag carefully, almost protectively.

Then she smiled again.

For a moment, it almost looked like she had forgotten everything else.

Alex watched her quietly.

There was something unsettling about how easily she accepted it.

No curiosity.

No caution.

Just acceptance.

He turned without another word and walked toward the door.

Elara’s gaze followed him as he left the room.

The moment he disappeared, the silence returned.

She stood there for a second, her fingers brushing against her bag where the card rested inside.

A hundred million dollars.

Her heart fluttered again.

She turned toward the mirror one last time, studying her reflection.

“Just one year,” she whispered softly.

Then she grabbed her bag and walked out.

***

(A Base)

The mansion was smaller than Alex’s main residence but it carried a different kind of weight.

It wasn’t designed to impress.

It was designed for privacy.

Hidden away from prying eyes, tucked in a quiet location where conversations could remain buried and secrets could exist without consequence.

This was where they meet whenever something needed to be discussed without interruption.

Inside the living room, the atmosphere was heavy.

Julian, Alex, and Genevieve were already seated.

Alex occupied a single couch, his posture relaxed but his expression unreadable. One leg crossed over the other, his fingers resting lightly against the armrest.

Across from him, Julian and Genevieve sat on a double couch.

Julian leaned back slightly, his expression calm but distant as though he already anticipated how this conversation would unfold.

Genevieve, on the other hand, sat upright.

Her presence alone commanded authority.

Between them was a glass table.

And on it were photographs.

Pictures of Elara. Clara. And a woman who looked older, their mother.

The silence stretched.

Then Alex spoke.

“Grandma,” he said, glancing briefly at his wristwatch before lifting his gaze back to her, “you didn’t tell me why you called me here.”

Genevieve didn’t answer immediately.

Her eyes were fixed on the photographs.

“I warned you,” she said slowly, her voice sharp enough to cut through the air, “not to marry a woman from a poor background.”

Her gaze snapped to him.

“What do you want people to say about our family?”

Alex exhaled quietly.

“Grandma...”

“Shut up!” she snapped suddenly.

Julian flinched slightly as her sharp tone redirected.

“I’m talking to your brother,” she added, glaring at him.

Julian sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Here we go again.” he muttered under his breath.

Genevieve ignored him completely.

Her attention was locked on Alex.

“You think this is a joke?” she continued, her voice rising slightly. “Do you have any idea what people are already saying?”

Alex’s expression didn’t change. “I don’t care.”

“You should care!” she snapped instantly. “This family has a reputation. A legacy. And you...” she gestured sharply toward him, “...you’re dragging it through the mud for a girl who has nothing!”

Alex’s jaw tightened slightly.

“She’s the woman of my choice,” he said firmly. “And I shouldn’t care about what people have to say about her.”

Genevieve rolled her eyes, his tone, his stubbornness.

It reminded her too much of someone.

“You are exactly like your father,” she muttered bitterly.

Julian shifted slightly, glancing between them.

Genevieve let out a dry laugh.

“Your father said the same thing,” she continued. “He married for love. Ignored everything I said. And look where that got him.”

Her gaze hardened.

“History is repeating itself.”

Alex didn’t respond immediately.

Instead, his eyes drifted toward the photographs on the table.

Elara’s face stared back at him innocently.

“You don’t know anything about her,” he said finally.

Genevieve let out a short, humorless laugh.

“I know enough.”

She picked up one of the photographs—Elara’s.

“A girl from a struggling family. No status. No influence. No background worth mentioning.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And you married her, how could you?”

Julian leaned forward slightly.

“Grandma, maybe you’re overreacting...”

“I said shut up!” she snapped again.

Julian leaned back immediately, raising his hands in surrender.

“Fine. I’m quiet,” he muttered.

Genevieve turned back to Alex.

“You think people won’t investigate her?” she continued. “You think they won’t dig into her past? Her family?”

Alex’s gaze remained steady. “Let them say whatever they want, Elara is my wife, i married her, they didn’t.”

Even if he didn't marry Elara, and married his ex-girlfriend, who was an orphan, what would they actually say?

Genevieve’s lips curled slightly.

“That confidence,” she said slowly. “It will be your downfall.”

Alex didn’t flinch.

“I can handle it.”

Genevieve stared at him for a long moment.

Then she smiled. “You always think you can handle everything,” she said quietly.

Her fingers tapped lightly against the photograph before she placed it back on the table.

“But this time…” she added, her voice lowering slightly, “you’ve made a mistake.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed faintly.

“A mistake?” he repeated.

“Yes.” She leaned back slightly, crossing her legs with elegance.“A very dangerous one.”

Julian straightened slightly, his brows furrowing.

“Grandma, what are you talking about?” he asked.

Genevieve didn’t look at him.

Her eyes were still on Alex.

“You married her too quickly,” she said. “Without thinking. Without investigating properly.”

Alex’s expression darkened slightly.

“I did my research.”

Genevieve chuckled softly.

“No,” she said. “You didn’t.”

That caught his attention. What is she talking about?

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

Genevieve tilted her head slightly.

“You saw what you wanted to see,” she replied. “A simple girl. A harmless background.”

She leaned forward slightly, her gaze locking onto his. “But there are things you don’t know about her that will affect our reputation.”

The room fell silent again.

Julian frowned.

“Grandma… stop being dramatic and just say it.”

Genevieve ignored him.

Instead, she reached into her bag and pulled out a file.

She placed it on the table right in front of Alex.

The sound it made as it touched the glass surface echoed louder than it should have.

Alex stared at it.

Then at her.

“What is this?” he asked.

Genevieve smiled again. “Something you should have seen before you married her.”

Alex’s gaze hardened, he took the file, opened it to see what his grandmother was talking about.

His gaze darkened immediately.

Genevieve watched him closely.

“Now tell me,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper, “do you still believe you made the right choice?”

Alex didn’t respond, his grip on the file tightened slightly.