Elara's POV,
For the past twenty minutes, the car was heavy with silence. None of us says a word and just stares at our respective phones. I am already prepared for whatever will come at the gala.
Even prepared against him.
I roll back my shoulders, subtly touch the small dagger on my thigh and look out the window. The city is so beautiful, I think, and check the number of minutes left for us to arrive.
Six, thank goodness.
"When we arrive, we're going to be the centre of attention." Lucien broke the silence, adjusting his cufflinks. "Many will smile at you. None of them are harmless."
Neither am I.
I don't say a word. I just nod. I suddenly feel awkward being around him. He'd seen my scar. Only a bit, but he'd still seen it.
I want so badly to kill him. I placed a hand on my shaking knee. Patience.
"You're unusually quiet."
I give him a side-eye. "I'm calm. There's a difference."
"Just stay close to me."
"Don't tell me what to do."
"Solis."
"Lucien."
We glare at each other, then he exhales through his teeth. "I'm serious. You're going to be expected to stay close."
"Well, that's the thing about me." I smirk, "I don't do things I'm expected to."
"Do you want me to beg again?"
"I'd be glad to see you do it."
"Please, don't be difficult."
"Difficult?" I scoff in his face. "We're not even married yet, and you think I'm difficult. Lay off me, Lucien."
"You signed a contract."
My eyes twitch. "Not fucking ownership."
"But it's a contract. Or did you already forget all the clauses?"
"Right! About that!" I twist my body to face him. "What exactly did you gain from that contract? Huh? I'm a nobody who just happens to be your mother's child. You're a worldwide CEO whose reputation would probably tank if they found out that you had a child before marriage. You could get rid of me, and no one will even find out. Marry your precious Seraphina and be with your son. There's nothing you're gaining from it, so why make me marry you!"
"Solis, not now," he grits out. "Not fucking now."
Of course. I knew it.
He can't have just married me because he thought I was strong and Asher needed a mother. He has an ulterior motive.
Something that requires him to use an ordinary woman for his schemes.
Unfortunately for him, I'm far from ordinary.
"If I survive after this gala," I bite my lower lip. "I'm leaving."
The car stops in front of the large museum, and I look out the window behind it. So many people and paparazzi.
"You can't. We had a deal."
"Well, the deal's off. The same way you used me, I used you." I open the car door and step out, feeling the cold breeze on my face.
I hold part of the dress, then walk over to the other side, where Lucien had already gotten off.
With a loop of my head, I continue walking, but he yanks me back.
"You're not leaving with my son."
"Let me go, Lucien." I hiss under my breath. "Now."
"You can try." His voice is icy and, to be honest, a bit scary. "But I will find you. And when I do, you'd wish you never ran from me."
"How dare you threaten me?"
"Oh, that's not a threat." He takes one step closer. "I haven't decided to threaten you yet."
"Fuck off." I yank my arm from his, and in that exact moment, a paparazzi spot us.
"It's Lucien Kórvac!"
They all surround us, and I immediately loop my arm through his with the fakest smile ever.
He nods once to his bodyguards, and they help us pass the crowd and cameras. I'm not used to it; the cameras, the attention and the questions.
Hell, I ran from all of this.
One more night, I tell myself. One more night. I'm leaving.
"Stop looking like you want to murder someone and smile." He bends to whisper in my ear. To the public eye, it looked like a loving whisper.
Asshole.
"How observant of you." I grit out, smiling wider.
We successfully walk in, and I immediately take a glass of champagne from one of the busboys. God knows I need it if I'm going to survive this evening.
He suddenly drops to one knee like something out of a fairytale or like a man in love.
The music swells around us, and every pair of eyes that matters turns just enough to notice. I am confused, and give a slow smile, as if I knew what he was doing.
For the public, I tell myself. For the damn public.
He looks up at me with such deceiving eyes, I want to slam my knee into his nose. Then, his fingers brush my ankle, fastening the buckle of my heel, which I didn't even know was unfastened.
He does it with such intent, and I feel there's something off and wrong, but I don't move or give him the satisfaction.
"Such a caring husband," I murmur, low enough that only he hears. "People might start believing you care."
His lips curve wickedly.
"I do," he says quietly.
About yourself, you mean.
He then rises slowly, gaze dragging up my body like he's memorising every piece of me.
And for one dangerous second, I almost believe what he did was normal. I fake a smile to everyone who was watching.
Then I shift, and my hand brushes my thigh.
…Nothing.
The world doesn't stop, the music doesn't falter, and the people around still laugh, glasses still clink.
But inside me, something snaps.
My eyes twitch dangerously, and I look up at him. He looks back with the same intensity, then, knowing I was watching, he slips the small dagger into the innermost part of his suit.
Ah, so he had known. How smart.
My pulse spikes, sharp and violent, and rage curls hot in my chest. Not because he took it, but because he had done it so easily.
Clearly trying to put it to me that I was predictable and something he could disarm whenever he pleased.
"You…" I seethe, then stop myself before the word turns into a scene.
My smile doesn't break, though inside I'm biting through my fingernails, and my eyes burn.
"You think you're so clever," I whisper, stepping close enough that it looks intimate. Like a lover leaning in. "Taking things that aren't yours."
His expression doesn't change. His lips just twitched, as if I were so amusing.
I lean in further, "Next time, I'll bring two."