The conversation inside the gazebo gradually resumed after Tanya's arrival, though the atmosphere had subtly changed.
Not dramatically.
Not enough for an outsider to notice.
But everyone seated around the long table felt it.
The arrival of a new person always altered the balance of a room.
Especially someone carrying history.
The warm afternoon breeze drifted through the open sides of the gazebo, stirring the roses climbing around the white pillars. Sunlight filtered through the ivy overhead, creating shifting patterns across crystal glasses and polished silverware arranged neatly on the table.
For a while, discussion remained light.
Safe.
Comfortable.
Then Julia smiled.
The smile immediately made Gregory suspicious.
"I think," Julia began pleasantly, lifting her teacup, "we should start planning Eleanor darling and Ivan's anniversary."
The statement instantly drew attention toward the couple.
Olga brightened.
"Oh, absolutely."
She set down her glass.
"The event planner can handle everything. Eleanor only needs to decide how she wants it."
Her smile turned warm.
"It is your anniversary after all."
Eleanor's posture remained elegant as always.
Perfect.
Refined.
Composed.
She inclined her head gracefully.
"Thank you."
Then she turned toward Julia with the same polished smile she had spent years perfecting.
"Thank you, Aunt Julia, for your kind thoughts. I'm most grateful."
"You're too kind, dear."
Julia reached across the table and patted Eleanor's hand affectionately.
The gesture looked loving.
Family-like.
Comfortable.
Yet Maya noticed Eleanor's smile never fully reached her eyes.
Only for a moment.
Then it disappeared again.
Julia's attention shifted.
Directly toward Maya.
The older woman's posture straightened slightly.
Her chin lifted.
And suddenly Nadia knew exactly what was coming.
The warning sign arrived instantly.
Nadia rolled her eyes.
Nikolai's jaw tightened.
Maxim glanced toward him briefly.
Andrei simply observed.
Olga sighed quietly beneath her breath.
Gregory immediately became alert.
Meanwhile, Rege continued holding Maya's hand beneath the table without seeming to realize he was doing it.
His attention remained entirely on her.
As it usually did now.
"So Maya."
Julia smiled.
"What exactly do you do?"
The question sounded innocent.
Polite.
Normal.
Yet everyone seated there recognized it for what it truly was.
An assessment.
Maya recognized it too.
Still, she smiled politely.
Calmly.
Without irritation.
Without defensiveness.
"I'm a writer."
Julia blinked.
"Oh?"
The response carried immediate skepticism.
"How interesting."
Her smile widened.
"A New York Times bestselling author perhaps?"
The silence that followed felt deliberate.
Calculated.
Julia took a sip from her tea.
"I don't believe I've come across your name."
Another pause.
"And I've certainly read my fair share of books."
Gregory immediately pressed his hand against his wife's thigh beneath the table.
A silent warning.
Stop.
Julia ignored him completely.
Maya maintained her smile.
Though she could feel the tension spreading around the table.
Eleanor tilted her head slightly.
Her smile remained sweet.
Elegant.
Sharp.
"Aunt Julia is simply being modest."
Everyone knew she wasn't.
"Aunt Julia is a true book enthusiast."
Eleanor's gaze briefly drifted toward Maya.
Then away.
"She's read every book worth reading."
Gregory's nostrils flared.
"She has quite the collection."
The words sounded complimentary.
Yet something about them felt pointed.
Intentional.
Nadia looked utterly unimpressed.
"Aunt Julia can't possibly have read every book in existence."
Her tone was flat.
Dry.
Blunt.
Maya immediately shook her head.
A laugh escaped her.
"Nadia."
"What?"
Nadia shrugged.
"I'm just saying."
Maya squeezed her hand briefly before looking back toward Julia.
Still smiling.
Still composed.
"I actually haven't published my book yet."
The honesty surprised some of them.
Julia snickered softly.
Once.
The sound was small.
Yet everyone heard it.
"Oh."
She leaned back.
"Then you're not working."
The words landed heavily.
"That's quite discouraging."
Silence followed.
The birds outside seemed louder suddenly.
The fountains harsher.
The breeze cooler.
Maya felt her fingers tighten around Rege's hand beneath the table.
Only slightly.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
But Rege noticed.
Of course he did.
He always noticed.
His jaw tightened immediately.
The shift was subtle.
Yet Maya felt it.
Without warning, he lifted her hand.
Slowly.
Carefully.
And pressed his lips against her knuckles.
The gesture was gentle.
Tender.
Protective.
Like she was something precious.
Something worth defending.
The entire gazebo froze.
Maya blinked.
Heat flooded into her cheeks instantly.
Her eyes lifted toward him.
And there it was.
That look.
The soft look.
The one only she ever received.
A faint smile touched his lips.
One reserved entirely for her.
The sight alone was enough to leave several people speechless.
Because Rege Hastings did not do things like that.
Not publicly.
Not ever.
Then he lowered her hand.
And looked at Julia.
Everything changed.
Instantly.
The softness vanished.
The warmth disappeared.
His expression became unreadable.
Cold.
Sharp.
Dangerously controlled.
The temperature around the table seemed to drop several degrees.
Even Tanya straightened slightly.
Because she recognized that version of him.
Everyone did.
"Krasota doesn't have to work."
The words arrived calmly.
Yet each syllable landed like ice.
A shiver ran down nearly everyone's spine.
Except Maya's.
Never Maya's.
The statement wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
Because everyone understood what he truly meant.
Maya would never have to prove her worth.
Not here.
Not to Julia.
Not to anyone.
Gregory swallowed.
Then immediately turned toward his wife.
"Besides, Julia."
His voice was remarkably controlled.
"Neither are you."
The silence afterward was almost painful.
Julia's face darkened instantly.
She leaned back into her chair.
Scowling.
The glare she directed toward Maya could have cut glass.
Maya simply smiled politely.
Which somehow seemed to make Julia even more irritated.
Across the table, Eleanor's jaw tightened so hard it bordered on painful.
She had never seen Rege defend anyone like that.
Not once.
Not in all the years she had known him.
Not even close.
Beside Nadia, Tanya lowered her gaze.
Swallowing visibly.
The hand kiss had hurt.
The declaration had hurt more.
Because none of it looked forced.
None of it looked temporary.
And none of it looked performative.
He loved her.
Everyone could see it now.
Olga looked emotional.
Nikolai looked entertained.
Andrei looked thoughtful.
Maxim appeared unaffected.
Yet the slight tightening around his eyes suggested otherwise.
Ivan quietly observed everything.
Roman remained completely focused on Olga.
And Maya...
Maya couldn't stop looking at Rege.
Because beneath all the tension.
Beneath all the uncomfortable silence.
Beneath all the judgment.
He was still holding her hand.
Like he had no intention of ever letting it go.
The silence lingering around the gazebo after Rege's cold defense of Maya felt fragile.
Thin.
Like glass waiting for the smallest pressure to crack it.
The family slowly resumed their conversations, though the atmosphere remained noticeably altered. Julia sat stiffly in her chair, her expression sour. Gregory kept his hand resting against her knee, whether as comfort or warning, nobody could quite tell.
Meanwhile, Maya was still trying to recover from the fact that Rege had kissed her hand in front of everyone.
Her cheeks remained faintly pink.
Every now and then she would glance at him.
And every time she did, she found him already looking at her.
As though his attention naturally gravitated toward her no matter how many people surrounded them.
Then suddenly—
A phone vibrated.
The sharp sound broke through the conversation.
Rege reached into his pocket immediately.
His eyes dropped to the screen.
Something shifted.
Only slightly.
But Maya noticed the tightening of his jaw.
The subtle hardening around his eyes.
Work.
The realization came instantly.
Rege stared at the screen for a brief second before answering.
"Excuse me."
His gaze moved directly to Maya.
"I need to take this."
Then, lowering his voice slightly—
"Would you come with me?"
The question surprised several people around the table.
Not because of the invitation.
Because of how instinctive it sounded.
As though taking Maya with him had become his default preference.
Before Maya could answer—
Nadia spoke.
Immediately.
"Absolutely not."
Everyone looked at her.
Nadia sat straighter.
Protectively.
Almost possessively.
Maya tried not to laugh.
Nadia pointed toward herself.
"She'll stay here."
Her expression became serious.
"I will protect her with my life."
The declaration sounded so dramatic that Nikolai nearly choked on his drink.
Andrei laughed outright.
Even Maxim's lips twitched faintly.
Maya turned toward Nadia.
The brunette nodded firmly.
Completely serious.
As though she genuinely intended to fight anyone who dared upset Maya.
The sight warmed Maya's chest immediately.
"Nadia."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
Maya smiled.
Then looked back toward Rege.
He looked entirely unconvinced.
"Krasota."
The single word carried clear reluctance.
Maya's smile softened.
"Don't worry about me."
She squeezed his hand gently.
"I'll be fine."
Her eyes drifted briefly toward Nadia.
"I have Nadia."
Nadia immediately nodded.
Very proudly.
Maya laughed softly.
"So go."
Her voice lowered.
"Take your call."
For several seconds Rege remained exactly where he was.
Like he genuinely disliked the idea.
Then eventually—
Reluctantly—
He nodded.
The movement looked almost unwilling.
As though he was compromising against his better judgment.
Before leaving, he leaned down and pressed a kiss against Maya's cheek.
Simple.
Natural.
Completely unconcerned by the fact everyone could see.
Then he left.
Quickly.
Almost hurriedly.
Like he intended to finish whatever business awaited him and return immediately.
Because being away from her had become increasingly unpleasant.
The moment he disappeared from view—
Eleanor's chest tightened painfully.
She had watched everything.
Every glance.
Every smile.
Every touch.
Every kiss.
Every instinctive movement.
And somehow each one hurt more than the last.
Because none of it looked forced.
None of it looked temporary.
It looked real.
Painfully real.
Across the table, Maya and Nadia were already talking quietly again.
Smiling.
Laughing.
Existing inside their own comfortable little bubble.
The sight made Eleanor feel strangely disconnected from everyone around her.
Like she was watching life happen from behind glass.
She blinked rapidly.
Trying to regain control.
Trying to suppress the ache building behind her ribs.
Eventually she turned toward Ivan.
The smile she offered him was flawless.
Practiced.
Empty.
"I'll check on the lunch preparations."
Ivan studied her for a moment.
Something inside him immediately sensed the lie.
Still—
He nodded.
"Alright."
Eleanor stood gracefully.
No one questioned it.
No one stopped her.
Only Tanya watched her leave.
And Tanya's expression looked unusually distant.
Distracted.
Thoughtful.
As though she recognized something breaking apart right in front of her.
—
The study downstairs was quiet.
Cool.
Dimmer than the rest of the mansion.
Dark wood shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, filled with books and files collected over decades. The scent of leather and cedar lingered faintly in the air while sunlight filtered through partially drawn curtains.
Rege stood beside the desk.
Phone pressed against his ear.
His voice remained calm.
Controlled.
Efficient.
Everything about him returned instantly to business mode.
The call lasted only a few minutes.
By the time it ended, he was already planning how quickly he could return to the gazebo.
Then—
A presence entered the room.
Rege felt it immediately.
He turned.
Eleanor stood near the doorway.
Beautiful.
Elegant.
Composed.
At least on the surface.
The call ended moments later.
Rege lowered the phone.
Slipped it into his pocket.
And immediately moved toward the door.
No greeting.
No conversation.
No acknowledgment.
Just movement.
As though he intended to leave.
As though her presence changed nothing.
That hurt more than she expected.
Her hand moved instinctively.
Wrapping around his arm.
The reaction was immediate.
Rege stopped.
Turned.
And looked at her.
The sharpness in his gaze struck her like physical force.
Eleanor released him instantly.
As though she'd touched something dangerous.
Something forbidden.
"I'm sorry."
Her voice sounded quieter now.
"I forgot."
Bitterness coated every word.
"You don't like being touched."
The statement tasted poisonous.
Because she'd spent the last twenty-four hours watching Maya touch him constantly.
Watching him welcome it.
Enjoy it.
Need it.
Rege said nothing.
He simply resumed walking.
Again.
Like she wasn't there.
Like she hadn't spoken.
Like none of this mattered.
Panic surged inside her chest.
"She won't survive your world."
The words escaped before she could stop them.
Rege continued toward the door.
"She doesn't belong in your circle."
Still nothing.
Eleanor's pulse accelerated.
"They'll destroy her."
Silence.
No response.
No reaction.
Nothing.
And suddenly that hurt more than anger ever could.
Eleanor rushed forward.
Stepping directly into his path.
Blocking the doorway.
Forcing him to stop.
Rege's jaw tightened.
He looked over her head.
Toward the door.
Not at her.
Never at her.
The dismissal shattered something.
Years of restraint.
Years of silence.
Years of pretending.
All of it finally began to crack.
"Look at me."
Her voice trembled.
"Why do you keep hurting me?"
The words escaped before she could stop them.
Rege finally looked at her.
Not warmly.
Not cruelly.
Just confused.
"Hurting you?"
The disbelief in his voice nearly broke her completely.
"Yes."
Her breathing became uneven.
Her eyes glistened.
"Why would you bring her here?"
Tears gathered despite her efforts.
"Why would you parade her around like she's the love of your life while I'm standing right here?"
Rege remained silent.
Eleanor laughed bitterly.
A horrible sound.
Broken.
"You know how I feel."
Her voice cracked.
"You've always known."
The tears blurred her vision now.
"I could tolerate Tanya."
That surprised him enough to make him actually listen.
"Because it was obvious."
She swallowed hard.
"You never loved her."
Pain flashed across her face.
"You barely even looked at her."
The confession continued pouring out.
Years of buried emotion finally escaping.
"But Maya..."
Her voice broke completely.
"What is so special about her?"
The question sounded raw.
Desperate.
"What does she have that I don't?"
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Why her?"
Her hands trembled.
"Why choose her?"
Then quietly—
Painfully—
"Why do you let her touch you when I can't?"
The room fell silent.
The question hung heavily between them.
Because it wasn't really about touch.
It never had been.
It was about access.
About closeness.
About intimacy.
About being chosen.
Rege stepped backward.
Creating distance.
Instinctively.
The movement didn't go unnoticed.
If anything, it hurt more.
Finally he spoke.
"You chose my brother."
Simple.
Direct.
Uncomplicated.
The truth.
"And you're married to him."
"Krasota—"
Eleanor physically flinched.
The nickname felt like a knife.
Because she knew exactly who he meant.
Maya.
Always Maya.
Not her.
Never her.
"There's nothing between us."
Rege's voice remained calm.
Cold.
Absolute.
"Maya is going to be your sister-in-law."
Every word landed harder than the last.
"It would be wise to accept that."
Then he moved.
Passing her.
Heading for the door.
Panic exploded inside her chest.
Before she could think—
She wrapped her arms around him from behind.
The contact lasted barely a second.
Yet Rege immediately went rigid.
Not emotional.
Not conflicted.
Rigid.
Like someone being restrained against their will.
"Let go of me."
The words arrived quietly.
Dangerously quietly.
His jaw clenched so tightly it bordered on pain.
Eleanor buried her face against his back.
Sobbing now.
Completely unable to stop.
"I can't."
Her voice shattered.
"I still love you."
The confession echoed through the room.
Raw.
Humiliating.
Hopeless.
Rege closed his eyes briefly.
Then carefully—
Almost clinically—
He pried her arms away.
Using only two fingers.
Like she carried something contagious.
Something he couldn't allow near him.
The rejection felt absolute.
Final.
Eleanor immediately turned away.
Unable to let him see her cry.
Unable to survive seeing his expression.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then finally—
"Ivan doesn't deserve this."
The words struck harder than anything else.
Because they were true.
Painfully true.
And Eleanor knew it.
When Rege left this time—
She didn't stop him.
The door closed quietly behind him.
And the silence became unbearable.
For several moments she stood completely still.
Then everything collapsed.
A sob tore from her throat.
Then another.
Then another.
Her knees nearly gave out.
She grabbed the edge of the desk desperately.
Holding on as though it were the only thing keeping her upright.
Years.
Years of loving him.
Years of hoping.
Years of pretending.
And none of it had mattered.
Because in the end—
He had chosen Maya.
And for the first time, Eleanor realized he was never going to choose anyone else.