CHAPTER TWO: THE GALA

The Arden Charity Gala was where Elena Vale’s life first began to rot.

Not the fire.

Not the betrayal.

This night.

This ballroom.

This exact moment.

The car stopped beneath the flood of golden lights outside the Arden Grand Hotel. Rainwater reflected against polished black marble while reporters crowded near the entrance like vultures waiting for blood.

Elena stared through the tinted window silently.

In the original novel, this was the night Elena destroyed herself publicly over a man who never loved her.

Tonight, she refused to become entertainment.

“Lady Elena?” the driver asked carefully.

She blinked once before stepping out of the car.

Cold air brushed against her skin instantly.

Camera flashes exploded.

“Elena Vale is here!” “Look this way, Lady Elena!” “Where’s Mr. Arden?”

Her expression never changed.

The black silk dress she wore was simple compared to her usual appearance. No diamonds choking her throat. No dramatic crimson lipstick. No attempt to dominate the room before entering it.

Just black silk.

Sharp eyes.

And exhaustion hidden beneath elegance.

The moment she entered the ballroom, the whispers started.

“What’s wrong with her?” “She looks different tonight.” “Did she fight with Cassian again?”

Elena ignored all of it.

The ballroom looked exactly like she remembered from the novel.

Gold chandeliers suspended from painted ceilings. Musicians playing soft strings in the distance. Politicians, heirs, actresses, and businessmen blending together beneath luxury and fake smiles.

A beautiful cage.

Her chest tightened slightly.

Because she remembered dying here.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

This was where the story first decided she was the villain.

“Elena.”

Her spine stiffened immediately.

That voice.

Low. Controlled. Cold enough to freeze the room around it.

Cassian Arden.

He stood near the staircase dressed entirely in black, one hand tucked into his pocket while nobles circled him carefully like satellites around a dangerous planet.

Beautiful.

Untouchable.

And looking directly at her.

Elena felt the same irritating ache in her chest she’d felt in both lives whenever she looked at him.

How unfair.

Even now, after death itself, her body still remembered him.

Cassian approached slowly.

People noticed immediately.

Of course they did.

The failed engagement between the Arden heir and the Vale heiress was practically public entertainment.

“You came,” he said.

Not warm.

Not welcoming.

Just observation.

Elena met his gaze calmly. “It would’ve caused more problems if I didn’t.”

Something flickered behind his silver eyes.

Small.

Almost invisible.

In the original story, Elena would’ve already been clinging to his arm by now.

Demanding attention.

Demanding reassurance.

Demanding love.

Tonight, she simply stood there.

Cassian studied her carefully.

“You’re quiet,” he said flatly.

“I didn’t realize silence was illegal.”

The answer landed wrong.

Not because it was rude.

Because it was controlled.

Elena saw the exact second his instincts sharpened.

Cassian Arden noticed abnormalities the way predators noticed blood in water.

“You look unwell,” he said.

“I’m alive. That’s enough.”

A strange silence stretched between them.

Then—

The ballroom shifted.

Not physically.

Socially.

Attention moved toward the entrance.

Soft murmurs spread instantly.

“She’s here.” “Seraphina Laurent…”

Elena looked up automatically.

And there she was.

The heroine.

Seraphina entered the ballroom wearing white silk that made her look almost unreal beneath the chandelier lights. Men stared openly. Women smiled too brightly. The entire room softened around her existence like the world itself preferred her.

Elena almost laughed.

Of course.

The heroine always arrives glowing.

Seraphina’s eyes found Cassian immediately.

Then Elena.

A brief pause.

Something unreadable crossed her face before she smiled politely.

“Elena,” Seraphina greeted softly. “You look lovely tonight.”

In the novel, this was where Elena snapped.

Where jealousy consumed her common sense.

Where Cassian began truly despising her.

But Elena only nodded once.

“Thank you.”

Seraphina blinked.

Cassian’s gaze sharpened slightly.

The script had changed.

Elena could almost feel it.

Like invisible gears grinding somewhere behind reality itself.

She stepped back slightly. “Excuse me.”

Cassian frowned faintly. “You’re leaving?”

“I came because I had to,” Elena replied. “Not because I wanted to stay.”

Then she walked away.

No outburst.

No humiliation.

No jealousy.

Nothing.

And somehow that was worse.

Because now Cassian was staring at her like he’d never seen her before.

Elena escaped onto the northern balcony overlooking the city.

Cold night air hit her instantly.

Finally.

Silence.

She gripped the railing tightly and exhaled slowly.

One event survived.

Good.

If she kept avoiding the plot, maybe—

“You hate parties too?”

Her body stiffened.

Cassian.

Again.

He stepped onto the balcony beside her, the city lights reflecting sharply against his silver eyes.

“You’ve spent the entire night avoiding me,” he said calmly.

Elena looked forward. “You noticed?”

“Yes.”

Of course he did.

Cassian rested one hand against the railing beside her.

“In fact,” he continued quietly, “that’s the only reason I’m standing here now.”

That sent a cold feeling down her spine.

Not romantic.

Dangerous.

Because attention from Cassian Arden was never harmless.

“You’re different tonight,” he said.

Elena forced herself not to tense.

People always noticed eventually.

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s true.”

His voice lowered slightly.

“You haven’t caused a scene. You haven’t followed me once. You barely reacted to Seraphina.”

A pause.

“Usually you can’t stand seeing her near me.”

Elena finally looked at him directly.

The problem with Cassian was that he was observant in cruel ways.

He noticed emotional weaknesses like they offended him personally.

“Maybe I got tired,” she said softly.

Cassian’s eyes narrowed.

“Tired?”

“Yes.” Elena looked away first. “Do you know what’s exhausting, Cassian?”

The wind moved through the silence between them.

“Loving someone who already decided you’re impossible to love.”

For the first time that night—

Cassian went still.

Not emotional.

Not guilty.

But caught off guard.

Because Elena Vale was not supposed to say things quietly.

She was supposed to scream them.

And somehow this version of her felt infinitely more unsettling.

Elena stepped away from the railing.

“I won’t embarrass you tonight,” she said calmly. “You don’t have to keep watching me like I’m about to explode.”

Then she left the balcony.

Cassian remained where he stood.

Silent.

Watching the empty doorway long after she disappeared.

Something about tonight felt wrong.

Not dangerous.

Worse.

Unpredictable.

And Cassian Arden hated things he couldn’t predict.