Chapter 21: Damage Control

Chapter 21: Damage Control

Elena

The press conference was a spectacle before it even began. Elena could see the flashing cameras, hear the murmurs of speculation. Reporters whispered amongst themselves, their eyes darting between her and Jason.

She hadn't planned on attending—Jason had ensured she had no choice.

He stood beside her at the podium, composed as ever, his hand resting possessively at the small of her back. To the world, they looked like a power couple, but beneath the surface, Elena felt the tension crackling between them.

Jason leaned in slightly, his voice low enough for only her to hear. "Smile, Elena. Unless you want them to start questioning us even more."

She forced a tight-lipped smile, hating how effortlessly he controlled the narrative.

Jason faced the cameras. "My wife and I are grateful for the support shown toward her business ventures. I couldn't be prouder of what she's accomplished."

Elena fought the urge to scoff. He was playing the doting husband now? After everything?

A reporter raised her hand. "Mr. Sinclair, recent articles suggest your wife is building an empire independent of your influence. How does that affect your marriage dynamic?"

Jason's grip on her waist tightened slightly. "Elena's success is our success. We are a team, as we always have been."

Elena turned to look at him, trying to decipher the deeper meaning in his words. Was this a warning? A reminder? And then it hit her—the terms of their contract. If she failed to uphold her role as his devoted wife, Jason had every right to seize control of her business. The very thing she had fought so hard to build could be stripped away with a single legal maneuver. Her stomach twisted. Was that what this press conference was about? A subtle way of putting her back in line?

Another reporter called out, "Mrs. Sinclair, would you say your husband has been fully supportive of your independence?"

Elena hesitated, aware that every word she spoke would be analyzed. Jason's fingers flexed against her waist—a silent message.

She met his gaze, then faced the reporters. "Jason has always been involved in my career, one way or another."

A carefully crafted response. Neutral. Deceptively diplomatic.

Jason smirked slightly, as if acknowledging her game.

The conference continued, but the battle between them was far from over.

Jason

The moment they stepped into the car, the mask dropped.

Elena turned to him, her eyes blazing. "That was low, Jason."

He adjusted his cufflinks, unbothered. "You agreed to this arrangement, Elena. If you want to redefine our marriage in the public eye, don't be surprised when I remind everyone what it's supposed to be."

She let out a humorless laugh. "So this is about control?"

His jaw tightened. "This is about stability. About ensuring that neither of us destroys what we've built before the year is up."

Elena shook her head. "You think I'm a threat to you?"

Jason's silence was answer enough.

She exhaled sharply. "I thought we had found some balance."

"So did I," he said, his voice colder now. "Until I had to remind you that our contract still stands."

Elena looked away, frustration clear in every line of her body. "I need air."

Before he could stop her, she opened the car door and stepped out onto the sidewalk, disappearing into the crowd.

Elena

Elena hadn't intended to run, but she needed space—to think, to process. Jason had backed her into a corner, forcing her to confront the reality of their contract. She had assumed she was simply fighting for herself, for her business, but in doing so, had she made things harder for him?

An hour later, she returned to the penthouse, her resolve firm. Jason was in his office, a glass of whiskey untouched on the desk beside him. He looked up as she entered, his expression unreadable.

"I shouldn't have walked out like that," she admitted, exhaling slowly. "And I should've acknowledged earlier that you've always been there... in your own way."

Jason arched a brow. "Is that an apology?"

She crossed the room, hesitating before standing in front of him. "Yes. And thank you—for pushing me, even when I didn't want to be pushed."

Jason's gaze darkened, his fingers grazing her wrist before tightening slightly. "You frustrate me, Elena. More than you should."

Elena swallowed, her pulse spiking at his touch. "The feeling is mutual."

"The feeling is mutual," she whispered, her pulse spiking at his touch.

Jason's fingers skimmed her waist, his touch light yet possessive. His eyes locked onto hers, searching—for resistance, for surrender, for anything in between. Elena didn't step back, didn't flinch. Her breath hitched, caught between defiance and something dangerously unspoken.

Jason hesitated for only a second before closing the distance, his lips brushing against hers—not tentative, not unsure, but claiming. Elena's breath caught, and for a moment, she let herself sink into it, let herself forget everything outside of this moment..

She wasn't sure where this left them—but for now, she didn't want to pull away..

His jaw tightened when he pulled away, his voice low and rough. "This is nothing. It has to be nothing."

Her heart pounded, but she lifted her chin. "Then why does it feel like it does?"

Jason exhaled sharply, releasing her as if the moment had burned him. "Get some rest. We'll talk tomorrow."

Elena watched him walk away, her pulse still unsteady. She had expected his anger, his frustration. What she hadn't expected was the flicker of something else in his eyes—something she wasn't ready to name.

But Elena could still feel the ghost of his touch, the tension thrumming between them. She had expected anger, expected his usual calculated detachment. But what she saw in his eyes before he turned away—raw, conflicted, and unguarded—unsettled her more than anything else.

Jason clenched his fists. He had meant to regain control of the narrative, to remind Elena of the boundaries they had set. But instead, he had only driven them further into uncertain territory.

Control was slipping through his fingers, and for the first time, he questioned whether holding onto it was even possible—or if he was already losing something far more important.

And if he wasn't careful, he might realize too late that letting go of control also meant letting go of her.