CHAPTER 4

Elara's POV

The next morning, it all came back.

Not in fragments, not in pieces, but all at once, clear and vivid in a way that made it impossible to dismiss as something insignificant or fleeting. Every look, every word, every second replayed itself. I had gone out to see Ryan.

That had been the plan simple, harmless. And yet, somehow, I had ended up upstairs, alone, with a man whose name I didn't even know, allowing something to happen that I couldn't explain, not in a way that made sense, not in a way that fit into the version of myself I had always understood.

I don't know how but I manage to get to class, even though I couldn't stop thinking of the way he had looked at me. The way he touched me and the way I hadn't stopped him.

After my class today, I call Paul to come pick me up. I wanted to stop home and see my grandpa. I try to see him at least once every week when I'm in school. He's always  like, "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be in school?" but secretly I think he likes that I come to see him. I go on the days my grandmother has her reading club meeting with her friends.

Not that I'm avoiding her I love my grandmother but our relationship has always been the serious kind. But with my grandfather, it's different; we're pretty close. We both love Formula One, we both love reading thrillers, so we always have something to talk about, and it's nice. Growing up, I always felt so alone, but whenever he was around, he always tried to make sure I didn't feel that way.

I find him on the balcony, food spread out on the table for him, and he's reading a book. "Do you like the book yet, or still deciding?" I say, announcing myself as I lean in, kissing his cheeks.

"I like this one more than the first in the series," he tells me, closing the book and looking up at me, his face going softer.

"Me too. Oh, and don't get me started on the plot twist you know I suspected—"

"Elara!" he exclaims, stopping me. "No spoilers, honey, I'm only halfway through," he adds, and I pretend to zip my mouth shut, then add, "Sorry."

"Now I'm going to be waiting for the plot twist all the way till I reach it," he says.

"Sorry," I say again, and he smiles.

"How's school?" he asks.

"It's going fine, everything is pretty easy," I tell him.

"You're smart, like your dad," he says with a smile, and I smile too. He rarely talks about my dad, but once in a while he provides short, heartfelt statements like that, and I love it. I also think one of the reasons I have a closer relationship with him than my grandmother is because Geneviève Sinclair never talks about my father, her son. I guess it's a hurtful reminder for her, losing a son, but I also lost him too, and I didn't know him for long, so sometimes I long for conversations about him.

I don't know much about my mother too. My grandparents got custody after my parents' death. My mother has two siblings, a brother and a sister they live in California. My mother was from there too. I used to see them twice a year when I was younger, but as I got older, we saw each other less. But we talk on the phone. My mom's sister, Paris, and I are pretty close, though.

Both her and my mom, Sydney, were named after cities, including their older brother, Chad. I think it was pretty cool. My maternal grandmother died before I was born, so I didn't get a chance to ask her why, but I met my grandfather. He was really nice and used to come around when I was little, but he died too when I was young.

"Well, you don't have to worry about school. One day, the Sinclair empire will be yours, and with this alliance with the Whitmores, you're going to be more powerful and build an even bigger legacy for your kids," my grandpa says, and I smile, reminding myself of my commitment. It has already been written in stone for me, and I will not disappoint my grandfather.

"I should get back, I have a paper I have to finish," I say, and my grandfather nods.

"Elara," he says my name, his voice going serious. "You don't have to rush into anything simply because it has been decided," he adds, his tone still calm. "A life can be planned for you, Elara, but that doesn't mean it becomes yours until you choose it."

I didn't realize I had been holding my breath until I let it go. The words settled into me slowly, not all at once, but in pieces, each one finding its place somewhere deeper than I expected.

"Everyone else seems sure," I say after a moment, my voice quieter than before.

"Everyone else is not the one who has to live it," he replies simply. "Your grandmother believes you and Ryan will make things work. I don't know that for sure, but I also believe in your grandmother. She has a way with these things, and she loves you, so I do believe her." My grandpa said while I listened.  

"One thing I would like to add is try, Elara. Try with Ryan. Don't just allow things to go and pass you by. You have to try in life, or you'll be lonely, and that, princess, will break my heart more than anything," he tells me, and I smile. He's right, because yes, Ryan is my future, and I should try and build something with him.

Finally, I say goodbye to him and head back to campus. I had already made up my mind. I was going to the Hamptons tonight to surprise Ryan, last night didnt work maybe tonight would.

"Are you sure you won't just wait till Friday so I can come with you?" Lila asked for what felt like the millionth time, hovering behind me as she helped fix my hair.

Paul was already waiting out front, and my overnight bag had been packed and sent down earlier. Lauren, my grandfather's assistant, though she practically worked for all of us had handled everything else, the hotel booking, the travel details, even making sure everything would be seamless when I arrived.

"It's better I go now," I said, reaching for my bag. "If I wait, I might chicken out. And the Whitmore family event is this weekend so we have to be back in the city anyway."

Lila sighed dramatically, folding her arms.

"Fine. But you're telling me everything," she said. "Like, I expect updates every second unless you and Ryan are finally doing it."

She added the last part with a wink then she whispers "Sex." like I didn't get her meaning the first time.

I turned to look at her, half amused, half exasperated. "You're insane, Lila. Besides, we haven't even had our first kiss yet."

Her eyes widened. "Exactly. Which is why this trip is necessary."

I laughed, shaking my head.

"I'm actually proud of you for taking my advice," she continued, completely serious now. "You cannot be a virgin at twenty-one, Elara. That's just unacceptable."

I rolled my eyes. "According to who?"

"According to me," she said without hesitation. "Also, you need to know if the chemistry is there before you commit to him forever. That's just common sense."

I couldn't help it I laughed. Lila was ridiculous.

"Okay, bye," I said, grabbing my things before she could start another lecture.

"Text me!" she called after me. "And don't leave out any details!"

I waved her off as I walked out, trying to ignore the way my heart had started beating just a little faster.

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Once I reached the Hamptons, Lauren had already booked me a suite at one of the Whitmore-owned hotels. It was exactly what you would expect elegant, and positioned perfectly along the beach.

There was a bar club just down by the water where Ryan usually spent time with his friends.

That was the main reason I chose this location.

It was already late 11 p.m, but I couldn't relax from the moment I arrived. Instead, I spent my time getting ready, moving around the suite with a kind of restless energy I couldn't quite shake.

Lila had already helped me pick out an outfit.

I had been debating whether to wear it or not ever since I unpacked.

It was a short black dress, fitted tightly to my body, the neckline dipping just low enough to show my breasts and make me self-conscious about how much it revealed. It wasn't something I would normally choose for myself but also no matter what I wore my breasts always were the star. Problems of having a bigger chest area.

I still didn't know how Lila had convinced me to bring it.

But now, standing in front of the mirror, I couldn't deny it—

I looked good.

Really good.

My hair was already done, my makeup perfectly done, just enough to feel different from the version of me Ryan was used to seeing.

For a moment, I just stood there, staring at my reflection.

Then I grabbed my purse and headed downstairs before I could hesitate long enough to change my mind.

I had already seen his story posted less than thirty minutes ago.

He was here. One of his friends was celebrating a birthday tonight, which made it even more certain.

I found them by the beach.

The music was low, the lights dim, the ocean stretching endlessly behind them, but none of that registered for more than a second.

Because the moment I saw him, everything else disappeared.

Ryan was sitting back in his chair and there was a girl on his lap. She had her arms looped loosely around his neck, her face buried against his skin like she belonged there.

My steps stopped, I couldn't move any closer, but I couldn't turn away either.

There was laughter around the table, easy conversation.

"Why are you not drinking?" one of the guys asked.

"I think I overdid it with the partying last night," Ryan said casually.

"Yeah, dude, you need to chill with the partying," another voice added.

I recognized him immediately, it was Julian Blackwood.

"You're right," Ryan continued, a lazy smile on his face, "but I don't want to. My life is about to change in a couple of months, I might as well enjoy my time right now."

"What's happening?" the girl on his lap asked, lifting her head slightly.

Ryan glanced at her.

"I'm getting married."

She pulled back just enough to look at him properly, confusion flickering across her face as she shifted, like she was about to get off his lap—

But he stopped her, his hand tightened slightly around her waist, pulling her back into place.

"Relax, babe," he said easily. "It's an arranged thing. It's for the company, just a business deal."

And then he kissed her. Something inside me twisted sharply, I wanted to look away and I wanted to leave but I couldn't, I couldn't even move.

"So you feel nothing for Elara?" someone asked.

I knew that voice, it was Julian again.

My gaze snapped to him and that's when I realized, he had already seen me. He was watching me and just waiting and enjoying the moment.

"Are you kidding me?" Ryan let out a quiet laugh. "Absolutely not. Elara's pretty, but she's too uptight and prissy for me, sex with someone like her would be boring. Totally not my type."

The words landed harder than I expected.

Julian didn't look at Ryan, he was still looking at me. Watching my reaction as I stood there, unable to move, forced to hear every word.

I don't remember deciding to leave. One second I was standing there, rooted in place, every word still echoing in my head and the next, I was turning away.

Walking until I reached the hotel bar, the music from the beach faded behind me, becoming distant. I could feel the tears threatening to rise, stinging at the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Geneviève Sinclair did not raise a crier, and I wouldn't become one now. Instead, I forced a composed, almost careless smile onto my face and ordered a shot. I didn't drink, not usually, but tonight I needed something stronger.

I slipped onto one of the bar stools as the bartender poured the tequila, the glass placed neatly in front of me. I exhaled slowly, resting my hands against the edge of the counter silently telling myself everything is fine.

"You seem to like the melancholy of quiet spaces." The voice came from beside me, low and familiar in a way that made something in me shift instantly. I knew who it was before I even turned my head.

My gaze lifted. I was him.

The stranger. My stranger. The same man I had spent days thinking about without reason, without explanation, and now he was here again. He was dressed in his usual suit, my guess is Armani and he looked really good. His sea blue eyes, sharp jawline and faint lines around his eyes made him hotter. Seductive in a way I shouldn't even be thinking about.

"Now you're definitely stalking me," I said, my tone light, though there was something real underneath it. "This is more than a coincidence. We've met, what, three times now?"

"Or maybe you're the one doing the stalking," he replied smoothly, lifting his glass and taking a slow sip, his gaze moving over me in a way that was unhurried and intentional. He wasn't hiding it. He was looking at me, really looking, and he didn't seem to mind that I noticed.

"You look different today," he added, his eyes still fixed on me with an intensity that made it hard to look away.

I picked up the shot the bartender had just set down and swallowed it in one go before answering him, the burn settling low in my chest.

"You don't like it?" I asked.

"I doubt there's a thing you'd wear that I wouldn't like," he said, and something about the way he said it, certain made warmth spread through me in a way I wasn't expecting.

I smiled despite myself, feeling it somewhere deeper than I should have.

"We should go somewhere more private," I said, the words leaving me before I could second-guess them, the boldness unfamiliar but not unwelcome.

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he leaned back slightly, his attention still on me, though less direct now, like he was choosing his response carefully.

"Is something wrong?" he asked. "You don't seem like someone who usually makes reckless decisions."

Something in my chest tightened at the word.

Reckless, maybe that was exactly what I needed to be tonight.

"Maybe you're wrong," I said.

"Maybe," he agreed.

I slid off the stool then, my eyes still locked on his.

"Are you coming?" I asked.

He didn't say anything, but he stood. And God, I loved that he was tall, so tall.

And then he followed.

Silently.

His gaze never leaving mine, not as we walked toward the elevators, not as the doors closed around us, and not even as we made our way up to my suite, the air between us growing heavier with every second.

"You should know this, I'm a virgin." I blurt out once we were alone in my suite. I watched his face and it was completely unreadable so I continued. "But I want to." I walked over to him and stood in front of him. I thought I would be scared but I wasn't, I knew what I wanted.

He reached out and put his hands on my hips and pulled me closer. I tried so hard to read him but he was unreadable.

"Are you sure?" He asked. My heart started to pound in my chest. I held up the condom I brought and he took it out of my shaky fingers. I was glad I listened to Lila and came with it.

I stepped away from him unzipped and  stepped out of my dress, and pulled down my underwear, so I was naked. In front of him.

His eyes were glued to my every movement. Taking in every inch of my body, he liked what he saw by the evidence of his trouser tenting. He was hard. Hard because of me.

He touched me then and I thought I might faint. Just his finger running along my collarbone, then down the center of my chest. He didn't touch my breasts, though he watched them really watched them his eyes dilating like he wanted to eat me up

"You're gorgeous," he said, his voice hoarse. I loved his words so much even more than the way he was looking at me.

Then he was lifting me and turning me so I was on the bed. I laid on the bed naked, his eyes watching me as he undressed down to his boxers.

"We're going to take this slow."

      "Okay." I said.