ELARA POV The silence between us after the blowout in his office was thick, but it wasn’t peaceful. It was the kind of silence that felt like a held breath. Alaric didn’t apologize for his coldness, and I didn’t apologize for my outburst. Instead, he simply left a garment bag hanging on my door the following afternoon with a note: Be ready by seven. The dress was emerald silk, floor-length, and probably cost more than my entire first-year tuition. As I stood in front of the full-length mirror, I felt like a fraud. I looked like a Thorne—polished, wealthy, and untouchable. But underneath the silk, I was just a girl living out of cardboard boxes in a stranger’s penthouse. When I stepped into the living room, Alaric was already waiting. He was dressed in a black tuxedo that fit him with agonizing precision. He was checking his watch, but he stopped when he saw me. His gaze travelled from the hem of my dress up to my face, lingering for a second on my lips before his expression smoot
Last Updated : 2026-04-11 Read more