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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Seb

Motherfucker! I should have known my father would pull a stunt like this. Despite my words to Elle that her performance was perfect – because it was – Alexander Sterling-Knight is not buying it. Of course, he wants us under his roof, where he can try to sniff out our deceit.

I watch Elle walk away from me, her figure disappearing through the entrance of her flat, and a wave of frustration crashes over me. My hands clench into fists at my sides, the disappointment and anger swirling within me. She’s shutting down, I can feel it. The warmth, the closeness we shared just days ago has vanished, replaced by cold indifference. I thought I knew her, thought I could read her, but now…I’m not so sure.

What the hell happened?

She used to challenge me, yes, but there was a spark between us, something raw and real. But tonight, at the dinner with my father, she was nothing but a carefully crafted performance – business-like, controlled, emotionally distant. Every time I tried to reach her, to make her see that I’m in this for more than just a damn contract, she shut me out. Emotionally at least. Her smiles were too polished, no warmth or affection in her gazes.

I should’ve known better than to think I could have it both ways: keeping up appearances for my father while trying to show Elle something real.

I can’t stand it. She deserves more than this – more than the lies, more than my father’s expectations. She deserves honesty, but how the hell do I give that to her when I can’t even figure out where I stand myself?

I turn away from her building, my eyes seething with frustration. As much as I want to scream, to knock on her door and beg her to let me in, I know it’s pointless. She needs space, and I need to figure out what to do next. I can’t let my father win, but I can’t lose her, either.

Without thinking, I make my way to ‘For Me’. It’s the one place where I can disappear, where the press won’t be waiting to snap photos and twist my every move. I can’t risk it, not with my father breathing down my neck. I need somewhere to clear my head, somewhere I can let the world fall away for a while.

The streets blur as I drive on autopilot, my mind racing with everything that’s happened. I can’t shake the image of Elle’s face – so guarded, so distant. She didn’t even seem happy when my father gave us his blessing, his approval. I thought maybe I could convince her that she’d see past the surface and understand that this isn’t just business for me. But now, it’s like I don’t know who she is anymore.

Maybe I should take a leaf out of her book and try to guard my heart. Once we’re wed I’ll have a year to make her fall in love with me. And I’m certain I can do it.

I have to.

By the time I reach the club, the hum of the city is a distant echo. I give the bouncer a nod, and the heavy door swings open, letting me into the dimly lit space. The music vibrates through the air, the bass thumping in my chest as I walk further in, my footsteps muted by the sounds of the club already in full swing. It’s a world away from the one I just left – away from my father’s cold expectations, away from the future I’m supposed to have. Everything here is carefree.

I make my way to the bar, the bartender, Faith, glances up as I approach. “The usual?” she asks, already reaching for a glass.

“Yeah. Thanks, Faith,” I mutter, leaning against the counter, my eyes scanning the room. I take the keycard from my wallet and scan it on the screen inbuilt into the bar top. Members here usually have wristbands but I have a credit-card style ‘key’ as a backup for unplanned visits here.

I don’t even know why I’m here, outside of having nowhere else to go. The place is full of people, but I feel like I’m suffocating. None of them matter, none of them can fill the empty space that Elle has left in me. I take a long drink, the burn of the liquor doing little to dull the ache in my chest. I can’t shake the image of her face, the way she closed herself off from me.

I reach for my phone, but then I pause, staring at the screen in frustration. I want to call her, to hear her voice, to fix this before it’s too late. But I know it’s not the right time. Every time I try to get closer to her, it feels like she pulls further away.

“You alright, man?” a voice interrupts my thoughts, and I look up to find Asher Sullivan leaning against the bar beside me, a friendly grin on his face.

“Yeah,” I say gruffly, my voice betraying me as I take another sip. “Just…trying to figure some shit out.”

He nods knowingly, taking a sip of his own drink. “I get it. Women, huh?”

I give him a tight smile. “Something like that.”

But it’s not just women. It’s her . Elle. I never should have let it get this far.

“Liked the latest proposals you sent over. Think we should move that meeting up.”

“Yeah,” I reply, completely distracted.

“I’m going to double my investment,” Sullivan adds.

“Great…” His words slowly penetrate my brain. “What?”

He chuckles and claps me on the shoulder. “Wondered what would get through to you. Clearly tonight’s not the night to discuss business. And you don’t look like you came here to scene, so why are you here, Knight?”

I shrug. “No where else to go. Needed…discretion.”

Sullivan nods. “I get it.”

“What about you? Are you here to scene?” I ask, already knowing the answer. Asher Sullivan never scenes. With anyone. Despite many women, and guys, trying to entice him.

He laughs, a full deep belly laugh this time, and downs his drink. “Nah. I come for the company of this lovely lady only.” He grins and shoots a wink at Faith, but she simply shakes her head at his antics and pours him his next, and final, drink. I don’t miss the slight flush to her cheeks though.

“I’ll leave you to it. I’m gonna go and watch tonight’s demonstration,” I tell him, grabbing my drink and turning away.

“You’ll like this one, there’s some rope bunnies here to play tonight,” he calls after me.

As I sit there in the club, my thoughts spiraling further, I know one thing for sure: I can’t let this go. I can’t let her go. But I also can’t keep pretending that everything’s fine. My father’s expectations weigh heavily on me, and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to break free from them, not with everything riding on this marriage.

But if I lose Elle in the process, then what the hell do I have left?

My mind spins, the noise of the club fading into the background as I stare at my phone again, knowing that I need to take a risk. But I don’t know what risk I’m willing to take yet.

And that scares the shit out of me.

The lights dim, and the music shifts, taking on a more seductive rhythm. The atmosphere in the club changes, the energy thickening as bodies start to move with the beat. I glance around, the familiar faces of the club’s regulars filling the room, but my mind is elsewhere. My thoughts keep drifting back to Elle. To the way her eyes spark when she’s angry, the way her lips feel when she lets go just a little, and how, when she smiles – truly smiles – everything in the world seems to make sense.

I’m so damn distracted that I almost don’t notice the woman who slides onto the barstool beside me until she leans in, her perfume sweet and almost too heavy, the kind of scent that lingers in the air long after the person’s gone.

“Hey, handsome,” she purrs, a flirtatious smile curling on her lips. “Buy a girl a drink?”

I shake my head, trying to hold back my disapproving look, my fingers tightening around the glass in my hand. She’s attractive, sure, but I can’t even bring myself to care. All I can think about is Elle. How she looked tonight – how she performed flawlessly for my father, but I could see the walls she built up. She’s holding something back, and I’m not sure I can take it anymore.

“Not tonight,” I say curtly.

The woman raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push it. She swivels on her heels, clearly expecting someone else to take the bait. But I’m already lost in thought, watching the way the lights play off the glass of my drink.

A few minutes pass, and then another woman steps into my line of sight. This one is younger, dressed in a skimpy black dress, her hair in loose waves. She places her hand lightly on my arm, giving me a shy smile.

“You look lonely,” she says, her voice soft and teasing. “Mind if I keep you company?”

I glance at her, but the only thing I see is Elle’s face again. The hurt in her eyes when she looked at me tonight, the way she shut down the second the dinner ended. She’s not mine, not really. This contract, this damn deal – it’s all I have to offer. And I can’t shake the feeling that it’s not enough.

“I’m good, thanks,” I mutter, pushing my drink away from me slightly. “I’m not interested.”

She pauses, a flicker of confusion crossing her face before she shrugs and walks off. I let out a deep sigh, wondering if I’ve always been this emotionally distant with women. It’s different with Elle. With her, it feels real , even if it’s just a fantasy. I can’t see myself taking any of these women ice skating, or dog walking in the local park.

Can I be the one to break the wall between us down? Even when everything is so complicated, so fucked up by the contract and my father’s expectations?

More time passes, and several women approach me throughout the night, all of them offering me the same thing: attention, smiles, and the promise of something easy. But none of it matters. Every time they get too close, I think of Elle. I think of the weekend we spent together, her laughter, her warmth, the moments when she dropped her guard and let me in. And now, with her pulling away from me like this, I can’t do it. I can’t be here, surrounded by these women, pretending that this emptiness can be filled by anyone else.

I watch a couple dance on the floor, the woman draped in her partner’s arms, moving with the music. For a second, I think of Elle, how we never danced, how we never had the chance to just be .

She’s pulling away, and I don’t know how to stop it.

I down the rest of my drink and motion for another, which will take me to my allowed limit here tonight, my mind still lost in the whirlwind of everything that’s happened. She’s slipping through my fingers. Everything I’ve built, the promises I’ve made to myself, are crumbling, and I don’t know how to hold it all together.

This club, this life – it’s never felt more hollow. I used to come here to drown out the noise, to find something to make me feel alive. But tonight, it all feels pointless. Every woman who approaches me, every drink I have, every laugh I share with the regulars – they don’t matter.

Elle matters. And right now, I don’t know how to reach her.

I sit there for a long time, watching the bodies move on the dance floor, watching the people around me lose themselves in fleeting pleasure. But all I can think of is Elle. Her face, her voice, the way she shuts me out even though I know – deep down – that she feels something.

I just wish I knew what to do about it.

But all I can do is sit here, helpless, hoping that I’m not too late to fix this.