Time seemed to stand still. Grace Vale had barely risen from her seat, yet the tension in the air felt unbearable. The weight of every gaze in the room pressed down on her, suffocating and unrelenting. The scrape of her chair against the floor echoed like a thunderclap in the suffocating silence.
Aries Cain remained kneeling, his posture rigid, his eyes fixed downward. Yet, in that moment, his heart thundered in his chest—a wild and helpless rhythm. He didn't dare look at Grace, even as the sound of her footsteps reached his ears. The soft shuffle across the polished floor sent a wave of unease through him, each step a reminder of what might come next.
Vivianne Lawrent leaned back into her chair, her smirk widening as she savored the scene unfolding before her. Her sharp eyes danced with malice, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against the armrest in quiet satisfaction. The power she held over the room was palpable, and she relished every second of it.
As Grace approached, her movements slow but deliberate, the chatter of the entourage faded entirely. The girls watched with bated breath, their gazes darting nervously between Grace and Vivianne. No one dared to speak.
Finally, Grace stopped in front of Aries. The faintest tremor coursed through her body, but she willed herself to stay composed. This wasn't about compliance—it wasn't about Vivianne's games. It was about something far more complicated. Her heart twisted painfully as she looked down at Aries, taking in the quiet strength he exuded even in his most vulnerable moment.
Vivianne's voice broke the silence like a whip. "Go on, Grace," she purred, her words laced with condescension. "Be a dear and help him out. After all, isn't that what friends do?"
Grace clenched her fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. The word "friend" tasted bitter on her tongue, a cruel distortion of the bond Vivianne claimed to share with her. But what choice did she have? Defiance wasn't an option—not here, not now.
Aries shifted slightly, his hand tightening into a fist against his thigh. He felt the weight of Grace's hesitation, the unspoken turmoil radiating from her. The thought of her bowing to Vivianne's twisted demands ignited a fire in his chest, one that burned with a mix of anger and despair.
"No." The word was so soft that it barely registered at first, but when Aries spoke again, his voice was firm, steady. "She won't."
Grace's breath caught. For a moment, time froze again, the weight of Aries's words hanging heavy in the air.
Vivianne's gaze snapped to him, her smirk faltering for the briefest of moments before she regained her composure. "Oh, Aries," she said, her tone laced with mockery. "How noble of you to try to protect her. But we all know nobility gets you nowhere."
Aries met her gaze for the first time, his dark eyes unwavering. "I'll do it myself," he said simply. The words carried no defiance, no aggression—only quiet resolve.
Without waiting for permission, Aries reached into his jacket and pulled out the now-familiar handkerchief. Vivianne's smirk vanished entirely as he unfolded it, his movements deliberate and precise. The room watched in stunned silence as he lowered the cloth to her shoes, his hands steady despite the weight of the moment.
The air shifted. What had been a cruel spectacle orchestrated by Vivianne now felt like something entirely different. The quiet dignity with which Aries moved drained the room of its earlier malice, leaving only a heavy, uncomfortable tension.
Vivianne's jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing. She could feel the shift, the subtle yet undeniable change in the room's energy. The power she had wielded so effortlessly moments ago now felt precarious, slipping through her fingers like sand.
When Aries finished, he straightened slowly, his shoulders squared. He placed the handkerchief back into his pocket with the same care he had shown earlier, its edges folded neatly over his heart. His gaze never wavered as he looked directly at Vivianne.
"Are we done?" he asked, his tone calm but unyielding.
Vivianne's lips pressed into a thin line. For the first time in what felt like forever, she had no clever retort, no biting remark to reassert her dominance. The silence stretched, heavy and oppressive.
"Yes," she said finally, her voice colder than ice. "Get out."
Aries inclined his head slightly, a gesture that might have been mistaken for respect, though there was none in his eyes. He turned on his heel and left without another word, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing through the room.
Grace remained frozen in place, her mind racing. The sheer audacity of Aries's actions left her breathless, but more than that, she was struck by the weight of his sacrifice. He had taken on Vivianne's wrath entirely, sparing Grace from further humiliation. And yet, in doing so, he had shown her a glimpse of something she hadn't known she needed—courage.
Vivianne's gaze shifted back to Grace, her expression unreadable. "You may go as well," she said curtly, waving her hand dismissively.
Grace didn't hesitate. She turned and walked toward the door, her steps steady despite the storm raging inside her. As she exited the room, she didn't look back. But she couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had changed—something Vivianne could no longer control.
Outside, Grace found Aries leaning against the wall, his suit still damp from the champagne. He glanced at her briefly, his expression unreadable, before looking away.
Aries leaned against the wall just a few feet away, his damp suit rumpled from Vivianne's cruel antics. The sharp lines of his usually composed face were softened, marred by an expression Grace had never seen before: hurt. His dark eyes stared down at the handkerchief in his hand, the very one that had been folded and placed close to his heart not long ago. Now, it hung limply between his fingers, a silent symbol of everything that had just transpired.
Grace hesitated, her breath catching in her throat as she watched him. For all the strength and resilience Aries had shown moments ago, the vulnerability etched into his features now was almost too much to bear. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly, a stark contrast to the unyielding posture he'd maintained in the room. And though his gaze never lifted from the handkerchief, it was as though he carried the weight of every humiliation, every act of cruelty, in silence.
The sight stirred something deep within Grace—a mixture of guilt, anger, and something she couldn't quite name. Her fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms. She opened her mouth, about to speak, but the words caught in her throat. What could she even say to him? What words could possibly ease the weight of what had just happened?
And so she stood there, rooted to the spot, watching him from afar. The silence stretched between them like a chasm, heavy and unbroken, as the world outside the hallway continued on, indifferent to the quiet pain shared by two broken souls.