Chapter Five: The Wedding Plans

“Elena, sweetheart, you’re overthinking it. Trust me, I’ve planned events for people ten times more important than Alexander Wells.” The wedding planner, a sharp-dressed woman with a clipboard that looked heavier than my art supplies, smiled at me with practiced charm.

“I’m not overthinking,” I replied, tugging at the hem of my blouse. “I just want the wedding to feel like me, not some… corporate gala.” My voice faltered when I said it, as though voicing the truth would somehow jinx this entire thing.

From the corner of the room, Alexander watched in silence, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. He’d been like that all morning—distant, almost brooding. The tension in the air was thick, and it wasn’t just about floral arrangements or cake tastings.

The wedding planner glanced at him, clearly picking up on his mood. “Mr. Wells, is there anything you’d like to add? Perhaps we could look at the venue options again?”

“No,” Alexander said curtly, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. “Elena has full control. Whatever she decides is fine.”

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. I avoided his gaze, focusing instead on the glossy photographs spread across the table in front of me—lavish ballrooms, sprawling gardens, glittering chandeliers. They all looked beautiful, but none of them felt like me.

“I think we need some air,” I said, pushing back my chair and standing up. “Let’s take a break.”

Before anyone could respond, I walked out of the room and onto the balcony, the crisp breeze cooling my flushed cheeks. My hands gripped the stone railing as I stared out at the city skyline, trying to calm the storm inside me.

“Elena.” Alexander’s voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of his presence.

I turned to find him standing in the doorway, his tie slightly loosened and his expression softening for the first time all day. “I know this is overwhelming,” he said, stepping closer. “But I meant what I said—you have control. This wedding should be whatever you want it to be.”

I searched his face, looking for any trace of the man I thought I was starting to know. “It’s not about the wedding, Alex,” I said softly. “It’s about us. You say you want me to trust you, but how can I when you keep shutting me out?”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. But then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not shutting you out, Elena. I’m protecting you.”

“From what?” I pressed, my voice rising. “From Victoria? From whatever this deal is with my father? You say you’re protecting me, but it feels like you’re just keeping secrets.”

His eyes darkened, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of vulnerability behind his carefully crafted exterior. “You don’t understand—”

“Then help me understand!” I interrupted, my frustration boiling over. “I can’t marry someone who keeps me in the dark. I need to know the truth, Alex. All of it.”

Before he could respond, a sharp knock interrupted us. Alexander’s gaze flicked to the doorway, his expression instantly hardening.

“Come in,” he called, his tone flat.

The door opened, and Victoria stepped inside, her heels clicking against the marble floor. She looked flawless, as always—her blonde hair perfectly styled, her tailored dress hugging her frame like it was made for her. But her eyes were cold, and they lingered on me just a little too long.

“Am I interrupting?” she asked, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

“Yes,” I said before Alexander could reply.

Victoria’s lips curved into a sly smile, as though she enjoyed my bluntness. “Don’t worry, I won’t take up too much of your time. I just wanted to discuss some business matters with Alexander.”

I crossed my arms, refusing to back down. “Whatever business you have with him, you can discuss it later. We’re in the middle of something.”

“Elena.” Alexander’s voice was a quiet warning, but I ignored it.

“No, Alex,” I said, turning to face him. “She doesn’t get to just barge in here like she owns the place. Not anymore.”

Victoria let out a soft laugh, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. “You’ve got spirit,” she said, her blue eyes locking onto mine. “I can see why Alexander likes you. But let me give you a little advice—this world isn’t for the faint of heart. You’ll need more than spirit to survive.”

Her words sent a chill down my spine, but I refused to let her see it. “Thanks for the advice,” I said, my voice steady. “But I think I’ll manage just fine.”

Victoria’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but then she turned to Alexander, her expression softening. “I’ll leave you two to it,” she said, her tone laced with an edge I couldn’t quite place. “But don’t forget, Alexander—you owe me.”

She walked out without another word, leaving a heavy silence in her wake.

“What does she mean, you owe her?” I asked, turning to Alexander.

“It’s nothing,” he said quickly, but his clenched jaw told a different story.

“Alex, don’t do this,” I pleaded. “Don’t shut me out again.”

He hesitated, and for a moment, I thought he might finally open up. But then he shook his head, stepping back. “I need to handle this,” he said, his voice cold and distant once more. “Trust me, Elena.”

And just like that, the wall between us was back, higher and thicker than ever.

I stood there, watching him walk away, my chest tight with anger and hurt. But as much as I wanted to storm after him, to demand answers, a part of me knew it wouldn’t do any good.

Instead, I turned and walked back into the living room, my mind racing with questions I didn’t know how to answer.

But before I could even sit down, the doorbell rang again.

I froze, my heart pounding. Who could it be this time?

The butler answered the door, and a moment later, Victor stepped inside.

“Elena,” he said, his brown eyes soft but serious. “We need to talk.”