Luelle
Luelle could feel the warmth of Ethan's arm around her waist, anchoring her firmly at his side as he laughed effortlessly with the guests. The weight of his announcement hung in the air, rippling through the ballroom and igniting waves of speculation. His charm was impenetrable, wrapping them both in a performance she couldn't escape, but she kept her poise as Elena King—a role she had perfected through years of practice.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Aria approach, her excitement bubbling over in her usual effervescent manner. James followed reluctantly, and Rowan and Cass trailed behind, the former's sharp gaze already assessing the situation.
"Wait, wait, wait," Aria said, practically bouncing as she gestured animatedly. "You're telling me Elena is the girl from the bar? The one who took you home and then vanished into thin air?" Her voice rose with her excitement, drawing attention from nearby guests.
Ethan chuckled, his smirk deepening as he glanced down at Luelle. "One and the same," he said smoothly, the faintest glimmer of amusement lighting his features.
"No way!" Aria exclaimed, her hands clapping together as she turned to James, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing. "That's so incredible! I knew there was something special about that night, but I had no idea she was Elena King!"
Luelle forced herself to laugh softly, the sound measured and elegant. "It seems fate works in mysterious ways," she said lightly, her tone carrying just enough warmth to sound sincere.
Rowan's frown deepened as he stepped closer, his arms crossed. "You've mentioned the girl from the bar before, Ethan," he said, his tone level but sharp. "But you didn't say anything about meeting up with her again. How did that happen?"
Luelle's chest tightened, but Ethan didn't miss a beat.
"Well," he began, his voice calm and assured, "I couldn't stop thinking about her after that night. So I went back to the bar a few times, hoping I'd run into her again. And one night, there she was."
Aria gasped dramatically, clutching James's arm. "Oh my gosh, you're kidding! You actually went back just to find her? That's so romantic!"
Ethan shrugged, his smirk curving into something softer. "She left quite the impression."
Rowan's gaze flicked to Luelle, his suspicion palpable even as his expression remained composed. "Why didn't you tell me when you found her again? This seems... significant."
Ethan laughed, the sound smooth and disarming. "Because I didn't know she was Elena King at the time," he said, meeting Rowan's gaze with unwavering confidence. "If I had known, you'd have been the first to hear about it. But honestly, I think it worked out better this way."
He turned his attention back to Luelle, his smirk softening as his tone shifted. "She had me chasing her for weeks before I even realized who she was."
Luelle felt the weight of the room's attention shift to her, their curiosity practically radiating off of them. She tightened her grip on her champagne flute, forcing herself to remain composed as she let out another soft laugh.
"Well," she said smoothly, "I had to make sure he liked me for me—not for EK Enterprises. Isn't that right, Ethan?"
Ethan's gaze softened as he met hers, his smirk unwavering. "That's absolutely right," he replied, his voice carrying just the faintest trace of amusement.
Aria practically melted at the exchange, turning to James with wide, sparkling eyes. "Isn't that just the best? They're so perfect for each other—it's like fate!"
James rolled his eyes but said nothing, while Rowan's sharp gaze remained fixed on Ethan and Luelle, his suspicion lingering just beneath the surface.
As the group's laughter filled the air, Luelle felt the tension begin to shift—but the unease pressed firmly against her chest, refusing to let her go. The truth lay hidden behind carefully measured words and practiced smiles, buried where no one—not even Ethan—could fully uncover it.
Ethan
Ethan felt the weight of the ballroom settle on him the moment he spoke. The ripple of shocked murmurs didn't faze him—he had expected nothing less when he announced their engagement. What mattered was the woman standing beside him, the way her composure flickered ever so slightly despite the impeccable mask she wore.
Elena King.
His arm remained securely around her waist, not forcefully, but with an insistence that said she wasn't going anywhere. He could feel the tension radiating off her, the barely-there stiffening of her posture. To anyone watching, she was poised and untouchable, the perfect image of a powerful CEO. But Ethan was closer than anyone, and he could sense the cracks she was so carefully hiding.
He spoke with practiced ease, weaving their story on the spot, adjusting with every passing moment. It was a delicate dance, one he had perfected over years of being in the public eye. And yet, this time, there was something different. Something he couldn't quite place.
This was only the second time he had seen her. The first had been nearly two months ago in that dimly lit bar, where she had shown up out of nowhere and taken care of him when he'd let himself fall apart. Her kindness had been simple, almost matter-of-fact, as if she were used to stepping in and cleaning up messes. Then she had disappeared, slipping away as though she'd never existed. If it weren't for the undeniable memory of her steadying presence—and the peculiar absence of any trace of her on the Dominion's security footage—he might have thought he imagined her entirely.
And now, here she was.
Ethan glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as she laughed softly at something Aria said, her voice light and smooth, her smile easy. But he wasn't convinced. He saw the way her fingers subtly tightened around the stem of her champagne flute, the way her gaze flicked to Rowan as if anticipating his suspicion. There was something about the way she carried herself that felt... deliberate. Every movement, every word carefully chosen. Too carefully.
He had always trusted his instincts, and right now, they screamed at him that Elena King was more than the enigma she presented to the world.
The way she reacted wasn't normal. Most people, even those well-versed in the games of power, would show some unguarded emotion in a moment like this—joy, surprise, indignation, something. But not her. There was a calculated control to everything she did, as though she had spent years perfecting the art of blending in.
And yet, beneath his growing suspicion, there was... something else.
That feeling. The one he couldn't shake, the one that made him glance at her longer than he intended. It wasn't just recognition. It was deeper than that, unsettling in its intensity. It felt like he'd known her before. Not in passing or in a distant memory, but as if she'd been someone important—someone he'd trusted. Someone who had always been close.
But how could that be? This was only the second time they had met. Or was it?
Ethan kept his expression relaxed, his smirk easy as he addressed Aria's exuberant questions. "We met in a bar," he said, and when the group reacted with varying degrees of surprise and disbelief, he added with a laugh, "I wasn't exactly at my best. Elena found me, helped me, and then... disappeared."
He was aware of the group's reactions—Aria beaming with excitement, James sceptical but quiet, Rowan's eyes narrowing slightly, as if calculating the pieces of a puzzle that didn't fit. But Ethan's focus never strayed far from Elena.
She played her part perfectly, laughing softly when he spoke, her tone light as she joked about needing to ensure he liked her for who she was and not for her company. It was a clever deflection, one that earned a few chuckles from those around them. But Ethan wasn't laughing.
There were too many questions swirling in his mind. Why had she taken such careful steps to disappear after the bar? Why did it feel like she knew how to avoid Dominion cameras? And why, when he looked at her now, did his chest tighten as though some long-forgotten part of him was trying to resurface?
Whatever secrets Elena King held, he was determined to uncover them.
For now, he would play the game. He would let her think she was in control, let her believe that this engagement—this farce—was a momentary diversion.
But he wouldn't let her slip away again.
Not this time.