CHAPTER SEVEN: WHAT POWER FEELS LIKE

(Elena’s POV)

We didn’t utter a word to each other as we walked to the elevator.

The walk to the elevator felt longer than it should have, stretching endlessly beneath polished lights and glass walls that reflected my own face back at me—pale, shaken, furious beneath the calm I was forcing to hold. Alaric walked beside me, close enough that our shoulders brushed once, then again, like he was making sure I didn’t disappear if he loosened his grip.

“Don’t look back,” Alaric said quietly.

“I won’t ” I replied, though part of me wanted to—wanted to memorize the humiliation on their faces, the shock, the loss of control. I wanted to bottle it and keep it.

The elevator doors came into view.

He reached out and pressed the call button before I could stop myself from shaking. The small ding felt too loud.

Only then did he turn to me.

“Are you alright?” He asked moving closer to me.

I laughed softly, the sound hollow. “Define alright.”

His gaze softened in a way that unsettled me more than his authority ever could.

“They cornered you,” he said. “That won’t happen again.”

“You don’t know that.” I fired back.

He didn’t respond immediately; he stepped closer and patted my shoulders softly. “I do know that Elena.”

The elevator sound pulled us back to reality. The doors slid open smoothly, obediently, like the building itself recognized him.

We stepped inside.

The doors closed.

The silence rushed in.

I leaned back against the mirrored wall, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. My reflection stared back at me—eyes too bright, jaw too tight, a woman holding herself together with willpower and nothing else.

“You need not to intervene,” I said after a moment.

“Yes, I need to.” He replied.

“You made things worse. It’s not your battle to fight.” I said almost shouting on top of my voice.

“No,” he corrected calmly. “I made things clear.”

I scoffed. “Clear how? That I need saving?”

“That you’re untouchable.” He spurted out.

“And that you’re mine now, your battle is my battle.” He added calmly.

I looked at him sharply, my breath hitched, my heart beating faster at what he said.

“I don’t want to be untouchable. I want to be respected.” I rasped.

“That’s the same thing in rooms like this.” He muttered.

The elevator began to rise.

“You humiliated them,” I continued. “Especially Sabrina.

His mouth curved slightly. “Good.”

“You’re enjoying this.”

“I’m enjoying the fact that they underestimated you.” He murmured.

I let out a slow breath. “I didn’t need a knight in a tailored suit.”

His eyes darkened.

“No,” he said quietly. “You needed leverage.”

The elevator slowed. Then stopped.

The doors opened to a private corridor—quiet, guarded, nothing like the rest of the building. Plush carpeting muted our steps. The air smelled faintly of cedar and something expensive I couldn’t place.

This way,” he said.

I followed him into his office.

Calling it an office felt wrong. It was a statement. A throne room disguised as professionalism.

I paused just inside the door.

“Alaric,” I said, my voice low, “what exactly did I agree to yesterday?”

He closed the door behind us with deliberate care.

“You agreed to change the balance of power,” he said.

“That’s not an answer.”

He turned, leaning lightly against the desk, folding his arms. “You agreed to stop surviving and start controlling.”

My pulse kicked up.

“That sounds dangerous.”

“It is.”

I took a few steps forward. “And if I don’t want control? If I just want my life back?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “You can’t go back.”

That landed heavier than I expected.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because they won’t let you.”

I swallowed. “Xavier?”

“And Sabrina. And the board members who watched without intervening. You’ve seen their faces now, Elena.”

I hated that he was right.

“They were waiting,” I murmured. “Waiting for me to break.”

“Yes.” He said as he snapped his fingers.

“And you walked in and ruined it.” I muttered.

“I reminded them who owns the room.” He said

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “You make it sound so easy.”

“For me, it is.”

“For me, it’s terrifying.”

He straightened. “Then let’s talk.”

He gestured toward the couch again. This time, I sat without hesitation.

“First,” he said, “you need to understand the company.”

I folded my hands in my lap. “Go on.”

“Xavier was never more than a figurehead. He was placed there because he was compliant. Predictable.”

“And me?”

“You were disruptive.”

I blinked. “Disruptive?”

“You didn’t play politics. You delivered results.”

“That’s a crime now?”

“In the wrong hands, yes.”

He moved closer, resting against the edge of the desk. “The board thrives on controlled talent. You refused to be controlled.”

“So they tried to destroy me.”

“They tried to isolate you.”

My chest tightened. “And you?”

“I’ve been watching.”

“For how long?”

“Longer than you think.”

I didn’t like the sound of that.

“You could have stepped in sooner.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He held my gaze. “Because I needed you to see them clearly.”

I let out a shaky breath. “You’re ruthless.”

“I’m honest.”

Silence settled between us.

“And my position now?” I asked.

“Officially,” he said, “you’re my fiancée.”

I winced. “That still sounds surreal.”

“Unofficially,” he continued, “you’re untouchable.”

“That word again.”

“You’ll learn to appreciate it.”

“And my job?”

“Reinstated. Elevated.”

I looked up sharply. “Elevated how?”

“You won’t report to Xavier anymore.”

My heart skipped. “Then who?”

“Me.”

That did something strange to my breathing.

“I don’t want special treatment,” I said.

“You won’t get it,” he replied. “You’ll get authority.”

“That’s worse.”

He smiled faintly. “Only if you abuse it.”

I stared at him. “You trust me that much?”

“Yes.”

“You barely know me.”

“I know enough.”

Something about the certainty in his voice made my skin prickle.

“And the engagement?” I asked quietly.

“It will be announced within twenty-four hours.”

“That fast?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t waste time.”

“No.”

“And the media?”

“They’ll spin whatever they want. I’ll control the rest.”

I rubbed my palms together. “This is a lot.”

“I know.”

“Why are you doing this?” I asked suddenly. “Really.”

He hesitated.

Just for a second.

“Because,” he said carefully, “I don’t like watching you bleed for people who don’t deserve it.”

My throat tightened.

“I don’t need pity.”

“This isn't a pity.”

“Then what is it?”

His eyes searched my face, as if weighing something.

“Interest,” he said finally.

“That’s not comforting.”

“It’s honest.”

I stood abruptly, moving toward the window. The city sprawled below, alive and indifferent.

“You’re changing everything,” I said.

“Yes.”

“And you’re not even asking if I’m ready.”

He joined me by the window, standing close but not touching.

“You said yes,” he reminded me gently.

I closed my eyes. “I did.”

“And you meant it.”

“I did.”

“Then trust me.”

I turned to face him. “Trust is earned.”

“Then let me earn it.”

Our eyes locked.

For a moment, the space between us felt charged, heavy with everything unsaid.

“There’s something else,” he said quietly.

My stomach dropped.

“About my sister?”

“Yes.”

My breath caught. “You said not tonight.”

“I said tomorrow,” he corrected.

“And now?”

“Now,” he said, his voice lower, “you need to know this much.”

I braced myself.

“She didn’t disappear by accident.”

My fingers curled into fists.

“She was being watched.”

My heart pounded.

“And the night she vanished,” he continued, “wasn’t the beginning.”

I turned fully toward him. “Then what was it?”

He met my gaze.

“The warning.”

The room seemed to tilt.

“Alaric,” I whispered, “who was she with?”

His jaw tightened. His eyes darkened.

“That,” he said quietly, “is where this stops.”

I stared at him, pulse roaring in my ears.

“Tomorrow,” he added. “I promise.”

And for the first time since I met him, I wasn’t sure whether to believe him.