LOGINElara's POV.I stood in front of the mirror, studying my reflection with cold calculation. Tonight, I would become the devoted wife again, the woman who could make his heart race and his thoughts scatter. I needed him drawn to me completely, irrevocably. And I intended to make sure of it.I chose a deep burgundy dress that clung to my curves like a second skin, the neckline plunging just enough to hint without revealing. I curled my hair so it cascaded over one shoulder, applied red lipstick with careful precision, and added a touch of perfume to my wrists and neck.The woman staring back at me was no longer the one who had worn gray for a decade. She was dangerous, beautiful, composed, and ready.By seven, I was descending the staircase, my heels clicking against the marble with each deliberate step. Adrian stood at the bottom, one hand gripping the banister, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my stomach tighten.He looked at me like a man watching a storm approach,
Elara's POV.I stood at the bedroom door, my hand hovering over the handle, contemplating whether to leave a message for Adrian.But I stopped myself. Why should I act like a good wife? Why should I explain myself to a man who never explained himself to me? He didn't ask permission when he met Sophia. He didn't inform me when he made plans. So why should I?I pulled my hand back and walked out of the house without a backward glance.****Victor's Academy of Music stood in the heart of the city, a grand building of glass and steel gleaming beneath the afternoon sun. I paused at the entrance, my breath catching as memories rushed back.Years of practice. Endless hours of discipline. The weight of trophies in my hands. The sound of applause echoing through crowded halls.This was my world before Adrian.This was who I was before I became Mrs. Sterling.A bitter ache settled in my chest. Ten years of sacrifices, compromises, and abandoned dreams for a marriage that had given me far less t
Adrian’s POV.I sat at the dining table for a long time after she left.The eggs had gone cold and the toast had turned dry, but neither held my attention as much as the empty chair where she had sat and the painful twist in my chest.A pain I wasn't supposed to feel. I didn't love Elara. I was just trying to be a better person. That's all.I was just trying to be decent until I found the truth about my past. Yet why did this hurt? Why did her pulling away feel like she was taking something vital with her?I groaned, running my hands through my hair. This was supposed to soften her. The breakfast, the smile, the careful way I had arranged the fruit. But it didn't.She had looked at me like I was a stranger wearing her husband's face.I cleared the dishes. The sink filled with water. I washed each plate slowly, methodically, trying to empty my mind.When I finally walked into the bedroom, she was lying on the bed, flipping through a book. Her legs were tucked beneath her. Her hair fell
Elara's POV.I adjust my hoodie, pulling the cap lower over my face. Then I slide into the booth behind them, my back to their table, close enough to hear.Come on. Say something useful.But the more I strain my ears, the more I hear nothing but whispers. Soft. Intimate. The kind of whispers that belong in bedrooms, not restaurants.Sophia leans in, her hand brushing his arm as her fingers trail slowly up his sleeve, and she laughs—a low, breathy sound that makes my teeth clench.Who whispers in a public place? Who does that? It's like she's trying to be mysterious. Or annoying. Probably both.A waiter passes. A tray wobbles. Hot coffee sloshes over the rim and splashes across my table and my lap."Holy shit!"The words explode out of me before I can stop them. Heads turn. The entire restaurant freezes.Sophia looks over, confused. And Adrian... Adrian's head whips toward the sound. His eyes scan the figure in the hoodie. Something flickers across his face. Recognition? No. Impossibl
Elara’s POV.The gala is held in the Sterling Hotel's grand ballroom. Crystal chandeliers. Champagne flowing. The city's elite gathered in their finest, here to see and be seen.I stand at the edge of the room, the emerald dress hugging my body, my hair swept back, my hands steady.Adrian approaches. He offers his arm. I take it.He leads me through the crowd, stopping to greet his business partners, accepting their praise, their envy, their respect. I stand beside him, silent, the dutiful wife."Adrian." A man in a gray suit claps his shoulder. "I hear your wife is playing tonight. How delightful."Adrian's smile is tight. "My wife will play a little piece. Nothing special."In my past life, they would have sunk into my chest, heavy with shame.Now, I smile sweetly and innocently."Nothing special," I echo.Adrian glances at me. Something flickers in his eyes. A question, maybe or the first stirring of unease.He does not know what is coming.The piano sits at the center of the stag
Elara’s POV.The brunch is held in the grand dining room. Crystal chandeliers, a table long enough to seat twenty, though only eight sit at it.I walk in on Adrian's arm. I feel Agatha's eyes on me before I see her.She sits at the head of the table. Diamond rings weighing down her fingers, her gaze travels from my face to my dress and back again.I smile, sweetly. The smile I practiced in the mirror before I walked out of my room.Adrian pulls out my chair. A small gesture. One he never made in my first life. I sit, and he takes the seat beside me. His eyes flick to me once, then away.Agatha begins."Elara," she says, her voice honey over steel. "I see you've chosen something... bold for your first family appearance."In my past life, I shrank. I smoothed my skirt. I mumbled something about not meaning to draw attention.I meet her eyes. "I wanted to look my best for the family. First impressions matter, don't they?"Her smile tightens. "They do. Which is why I'm surprised Adrian
Elara’s POV.Somewhere, a phone is ringing. No….. not ringing. Someone is shouting. A voice I know."Elara! Elara, answer me! Where are you? Pull over!” His breath is uneven, like he’s been running.Adrian! I have never heard him sound like that. Afraid and desperate. He sounds like a man who migh
Elara 's POV.The message plays in my head all night.I lie in the dark, staring at the ceiling, and wonder what she looks like. Sophia. His ex. The woman he laughs with on the phone. The woman he softened his voice for.I have never seen her face, he never kept photos. But I know she exists in th
Elara 's POV.“A wife of mine doesn’t need a career.”The words don’t just echo, they settle into my bones as I stand in his study room, my back presses against the cold wall.I bring him the invitation, the Philharmonic, asking me to play. A single concert. I thought he would be proud, he might f
Adrian’s POV.The empty bottle sits on the dining table. Vitamin B, the label says. I found it in the dustbin.“What is this really?”My mother doesn't look up from her tea. She shifts in her chair, bracing herself. “Vitamins. I told you. For that wife of yours.”“She has a name,” I say quietly. “







