The first crack

Elena didn't go back inside right away.

She stood in the greenhouse long after Damien had disappeared into the night, his presence still echoing in the cold, damp air.

He said yes.

He agreed to the deal.

Some part of her expected him to walk away, to dismiss her with that cutting disinterest he wore like armor. But he hadn't. He'd listened. He'd looked at her—not through her, not around her, but at her—and said yes.

It wasn't trust. Not yet.

But it was the beginning of something.

And beginnings, she'd learned, were more powerful than people thought.

***

By morning, the world looked the same.

The Hayes estate bustled with pre-wedding chaos. Colette barked at the florist. Serena played innocent with the new stylist. Lucas sent her a dozen texts she didn't read. Elena moved through the house like a shadow—quiet, poised, watching.

They were all so comfortable. So unaware.

They had no idea she had already shifted the ground beneath their feet.

She waited until late afternoon to check the burner phone Damien had left for contact.

1 new message.

*Terms delivered. Read carefully. —D.

She didn't open it in the house. She took her car—her own car, not the one Lucas's family provided—and drove to a private café on the edge of the city. The kind of place no one from her world would be caught dead in. No pressed suits. No photographers. Just good coffee and bad lighting.

She parked herself in the back booth, pulled the envelope from her coat, and broke the seal.

Inside: a printed contract. Three pages, neatly worded, aggressive in tone.

The Terms:

Fake marriage, legally binding.

No romantic obligations.

Full public cooperation for image management.

Joint strategic decisions regarding both families.

Non-disclosure enforced.

Immediate termination if either party betrays the alliance.

Elena read it twice. Then smiled.

It was cold. Controlled. Calculated.

Exactly like him.

She pulled out a pen, signed it at the bottom, and added a clause in her own handwriting:

* "In the event this alliance succeeds, both parties may renegotiate the terms—personally and privately."

She snapped a picture of the page, sent it to the number with one word:

Done.

Then she put the envelope back in her bag, stood, and walked out into the afternoon sun feeling sharper than she had in years.

***

That night, during dinner, Lucas reached for her hand across the table. "I thought maybe tomorrow we could sneak away for a few days. Just you and me. Somewhere quiet."

Elena smiled softly. "That sounds nice."

But in her head, she was planning her wedding.

Just not to him.

***

The next morning brought a fresh layer of pretense.

Elena sat at brunch with Lucas and Colette at a glass-walled country club that smelled like wealth and quiet corruption. Lucas was talking about investor meetings; Colette was correcting his grammar between sips of lemon water.

Elena smiled at all the right moments. Nodded when necessary. But her mind was elsewhere.

Beneath the table, her phone buzzed once.

DAMIEN VOSS:

*Contract received. We move fast. You'll make the announcement next week. I'll handle the paperwork.

She took a long sip of her coffee, masking the rush in her chest.

A week. That soon.

"Elena?" Colette said, interrupting her thoughts. "The engagement shoot is scheduled for next Thursday. You'll need to clear your calendar."

She blinked. "Thursday?"

"Yes," her mother said, folding her napkin with precision. "I'm not moving it for one of your whims."

Elena gave her a long, unreadable look. "Then don't."

Lucas smirked. "Someone's in a mood."

"No," she said, calmly setting down her cup. "I'm just done pretending this is what I want."

Both of them went still.

"Elena," Colette said slowly, "you're overwhelmed. These arrangements can be stressful—"

"I'm not overwhelmed." She turned to Lucas. "I'm done."

His smile faded. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm calling off the engagement."

The table fell silent.

Colette leaned forward, voice tight. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not," Elena said, rising from her seat. "You can spin it however you want. Say it was mutual. Say I'm not feeling well. But don't lie to my face and tell me I should be grateful for a man who sees me as a trophy."

Lucas stood too, voice rising. "You're throwing away everything."

Elena met his gaze—sharp, clear, unflinching. "No. I'm finally keeping something for myself."

She left the club with her heart pounding and her spine straight.

There would be consequences. Her mother would explode. The Bennetts would retaliate. But she didn't care. Every reaction was a move on the board. Every step she took away from them gave her more power.

And now, she had something else they didn't expect: a man on her side they couldn't control.

***

That evening, her phone buzzed again.

DAMIEN VOSS:

* You didn't waste time.

I'll make my move tomorrow.

Elena typed back:

* They'll definetly come after me.

Plus an earful from my Mom.

She stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, the house quiet around her.

Ten years ago, this was where she started to disappear—smiling when she was supposed to, shrinking when it kept the peace.

Now?

She brushed her hair back, applied a touch of red lipstick, and whispered to herself like a vow:

"This time, I leave no one standing."

By the time she returned to the estate, the storm had already started.

Her mother was waiting in the sitting room, posture perfect, fury simmering just below the surface. Two untouched glasses of wine sat on the table like props in a play.

"Elena," Colette said smoothly. "Sit."

Elena didn't. She stood tall in the doorway, coat still on, purse in hand.

"You embarrassed us," Colette said, her voice low and precise. "Do you understand what you've done?"

"Yes," Elena replied. "I said no to a life sentence."

"You said no to stability," Colette snapped. "To everything we've built for you. You think people will respect you now? A jilted bride? You'll be the gossip of every event for the next year."

Elena crossed the room slowly, unhurried, and picked up one of the wine glasses.

"Let them talk," she said. "Let them wonder."

Colette's lips curled into a humorless smile. "And what exactly are you planning to do now, Elena? Move to Paris and paint your feelings?"

"I'm getting married," Elena said, taking a long sip of the wine.

Her mother froze.

"To who?"

Elena looked her in the eye. "Damien Voss."

The silence hit like glass shattering.

"No," Colette said flatly. "You're not serious."

"I've never been more serious."

"That man is—he's toxic. He's dangerous. He was a stain on this family's reputation the moment Serena brought him into it."

Elena tilted her head, savoring the moment. "Then you'll really hate knowing that I already slept with him too. He's Quite the catch you know..."

Colette recoiled slightly, color draining from her face.

"I promise you'll love having him as a son-in-law," Elena said coolly.

Colette's face twisted—not with fear, but rage. Not at the choice. At the loss of control.

"This isn't you," she said. "You don't do things like this."

"You're right," Elena said. "She didn't."

She set the glass down gently and turned to leave.

"Elena," her mother said sharply, "you do this and you're on your own. No trust fund. No family backing. You will not drag this name through the mud for some vendetta."

Elena looked over her shoulder, calm and unwavering.

"You already dragged it there. I'm just setting it on fire."

Then she walked out, up the stairs. The door to her room didn't close softly—it slammed behind her.

The old Elena would've cried.

This one smiled all the way up the stairs.

***

Upstairs in her room, Elena paced the floor, phone in hand.

Her fingers hovered over Damien's number, then tapped quickly.

He answered after the second ring.

"Problem?" he said, like he already knew.

"No," she said. "Just an update. I told them."

A pause. "How bad?"

"Elena Hayes is officially disowned," she said with a bitter laugh.

Damien was quiet for a moment. Then: "Welcome to the other side."

There was something dry in his tone, almost amused. But not unkind.

"I'll be ready for the announcement," she said. "Do it your way. Just don't make me smile for photos."

"No promises," Damien said. "I like watching you lie."

She rolled her eyes but didn't hang up right away. The silence stretched between them, not awkward—just real.

"Why did you say yes?" she asked finally.

"To what?"

"My deal."

Damien didn't answer immediately.

Then: "Because you're the only one in that entire world who actually scares me now."