Chapter 2

Elias

I sat in the very last row, the mahogany bench feeling like a church pew at a funeral I wasn’t allowed to mourn.

The ballroom of the Vance estate looked nothing like my father's funeral did. Everything dark and dull was replaced with white orchids, heavy scents, and a stifling, golden-hour light that made everything look far more divine than it actually was.

I sigh. It was futile to compare the different passages. One was the end of life and this is the beginning of mom's new life.

I stared at the back of her head. She stood at the altar, her posture so straight it looked painful. And then there was William.

Even from the back, his presence was an anchor that dragged the air out of the room. He didn't fidget. He didn't lean. He stood with the kind of precision that made me wonder if he was even breathing.

I snort at how the two match each other completely.

The sunlight caught the silver at his temples, a sharp contrast to the midnight black of his suit.

"Please join me in welcoming the new Mr. and Mrs. Vance," the officiant’s voice boomed.

The room erupted into polite, expensive applause. I didn't clap. I refused to clap. My hands remained clenched in my lap, my fingernails digging into my palms until I felt the sharp sting of broken skin. I watched as William turned to her. He didn't kiss her with passion; it was a clinical, dry press of lips against her cheek—a signature on a closing document.

As they began their walk down the aisle, the crowd stood. I stayed seated for as long as I could.

They grew closer. I could see the cold, unreadable depths of William’s eyes now. He wasn't looking at the guests. He wasn't looking at his new bride.

His gaze was fixed on me.

It was a predatory look, one that stripped away my defiance and left me feeling like a trespasser in my own life. As he passed my row, the scent of him—sandalwood and something metallic, like rain on hot pavement—brushed past me. He didn't stop, but the corner of his mouth quirked, a ghost of a smirk that was gone before I could be sure it was ever there.

He knew. He knew exactly how much I hated him, and he seemed to find it... interesting.

"Keep it together, Elias," I whispered to myself, my breathing turning ragged again.

The reception followed like a blurred fever dream. I moved through the shadows of the ballroom, dodging the pitying looks of family friends and the sharp,stares of the Vance associates. I found a corner near the tall glass windows that looked out over the dark gardens, clutching a drink I didn't want just so my hands had something to hold.

"You look like you're planning a murder, or perhaps just a very expensive tantrum."

The voice was low, smooth, and came from right behind my ear. I jumped, nearly sloshing my drink onto my sleeve.

I turned to find William standing there. He had ditched the morning coat, standing in just his waistcoat and shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that looked far more athletic than a man behind a desk should have.

"Just taking in the view," I snapped, pulling my shoulders back. "It’s a beautiful house. I’m sure you’ll enjoy owning it."

William stepped closer, invading my personal space until I was backed against the cold glass. He was a head taller than me, his shadow swallowing mine.

"I don't just own the house, Elias," he said, his voice dropping to a vibration I felt in my chest. He reached out, his hand hovering near my face before his fingers grazed the lapel of my suit, straightening it with agonizing slowness. "I own the legacy. And whether you like it or not, you are the most volatile part of that inheritance."

I wanted to push him away. I wanted to spit in his face. But my muscles felt like lead again, pinned under the sheer weight of his gaze.

"I'm not for sale, William."

"Everything is for sale," he murmured, his dark eyes dropping to my mouth for a split second before returning to mine. "The question is simply whether you'll be an asset... or a liability I have to liquidate.”

My throat burnt and my chest hurt. I finally looked up to meet his eyes.

His gaze bore into mine. My chest rose and fell quickly as I struggled to keep my emotions under control.

I hate him. I repeated in my head.

I finally let out a shallow breath and plastered a smile on my face.

“Your wife is seeking your attention.” I said bitterly

He gave me a thin lipped smile before muttering an "Of course." then waking away.