All Chapters of Engaged To The Ruthless Billionaire : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Eliana’s POV The Marlowe Club was one of those places whispered about at charity galas and family dinners but rarely described in detail. It wasn’t because the women who went didn’t want to talk. It was because the men who ran it made sure the details never left its black marble walls.It was high-gloss exclusivity, from the velvet-draped booths to the polished brass sconces casting warm shadows over tables filled with people who had more money than morals. Eliana always felt like a fraud walking through the door — but Katherine?Katherine was in her element.I found her perched behind the bar, one elbow on the counter, her hair pulled up in a high ponytail that screamed effortlessness even though I knew she’d spent half an hour perfecting it. She wore the Marlowe uniform — black silk camisole, sleek pants, stilettos — but she made it look like couture.The moment her eyes landed on me, she stilled, then narrowed them.“You’re glowing.”“I am not glowing.”She leaned forward. “Eliana

Eliana’s POVI almost texted to cancel the whole thing twice before I’d even zipped up my dress. Nerves, excitement, dread—an entire storm churned in my chest as I adjusted my makeup in the mirror, smoothing on lipstick with a hand that wasn’t quite steady. The black dress I’d chosen was a little bolder than usual, the neckline dipping just enough to challenge expectations. It wasn’t for Alexander—at least, that’s what I told myself. But as I checked the clock, I couldn’t ignore the way my heart beat a little faster. At exactly nine, my phone buzzed. Alexander: “I’m outside.”I took a breath, squared my shoulders, and walked out to meet him. The elevator ride felt endless, my mind replaying every sharp word and heated exchange we’d ever had—how easy it was to push each other’s buttons, and how much harder it was to admit that underneath it all, something else was brewing.When I stepped into the lobby, I saw him leaning against a sleek black car, one hand in his pocket, the other hol

Eliana’s POV I’d stopped pretending I understood whatever this… thing between us was.Dating Alexander Grayson felt like rediscovering parts of myself I’d buried the moment I realized my future wasn’t mine. The soft, foolish pieces. The ones that once believed in roses, confessions, and falling in love without fear of being told your heart had picked an “unsuitable match.”Even when I’d dated Matt—whose texts had gone silent since he last came here—I’d felt a quiet doom shadowing us. My father would never approve of him, and that knowledge had sat between us like a third body.But with Alexander… God help me, with Alexander, I didn’t have to worry.My father adored him. Approved. Applauded. And once I’d stopped bristling at him every two minutes, I’d even discovered he could be… likable. Buried beneath the scowls and the arrogance and his habit of looking at me like he was resisting the urge to pin me against a wall.“Give me one hint,” I said, nudging his arm as the limousine crawl

Eliana’s POVThe sky was gray when I reached the cemetery gates, the kind of gray that felt like a held breath. A storm threatening but not yet breaking.I pulled my coat tighter around me as I stepped in. The gravel crunched beneath my boots, each step familiar, ritualistic. I’d been coming here every year since my mother died, always alone, always quietly. My mother’s headstone was tucked in the far corner beneath an old willow tree, almost swallowed by its sweeping branches.It looked exactly the same.I sank down to my knees, the cold earth seeping through my jeans. My breath formed a thin cloud in the air as I set the small white rose at the base of the stone.“Hey, Mom.” My voice cracked immediately.Perfect. Real smooth, Eliana.I brushed my fingers over her name, tracing the fading gold letters the way I used to trace the lines on her palms.“It’s been… five years,” I whispered. “And I’m still trying. I think I’m doing better than last year. Maybe.”My eyes burned.“I’m enga

Eliana’s POV Waking up felt less like rising from sleep and more like surfacing from deep, murky water.My head throbbed with a dull, persistent ache, the kind that came from crying yourself to sleep and then sleeping too long. I stared up at the ceiling, the intricate molding blurring in my vision as the memories of yesterday crashed into me.The cemetery. The rain. The look on Alexander’s face.“If losing you hurts this badly, maybe I shouldn’t have cared in the first place.”I rolled over, burying my face in the pillow. The scent of him—sandalwood, crisp linen, and that unique, masculine sharpness that was just Alexander—clung to the sheets. It was infuriating. Even when he wasn’t here, he was here.I reached out a hand, half-expecting to brush against a warm shoulder, but the other side of the bed was cold. Pristine. Untouched.He hadn’t come to bed.A heavy knot of disappointment tightened in my stomach. I told myself I didn’t care. I told myself I wanted space. But lying here i