chapter 35

Late at night, in the comfort of her study, Elena leaned forward, eyes fixed on the secure laptop screen. The rest of the mansion had fallen quiet—Sebastian had retreated to his private study, the staff were long gone to their quarters—but for Elena, the night was just beginning.

A secure message blinked on her screen.

> "Client, we've traced Camille's activity three days prior to the kidnapping. There were private calls to an unregistered number tied to a convicted human trafficker—Eldon Venter. Additionally, the warehouse you instructed us to check shows ownership transfer to a shell company owned by Camille's legal guardian."

Elena's fingers tightened around the cup of untouched tea on her desk. The surface might show calm, but the storm within her raged.

Aria didn't die because of a random crime, she thought grimly. It was a setup… a carefully calculated betrayal.

She responded swiftly, encrypting her message.

> "Follow the money trail linked to Eldon Venter. I want names of accomplices, transport details, every contact Camille used around the time of Aria's death."

Minutes later, a reply flashed.

> "Understood. Updates will follow within seventy-two hours."

Elena closed the laptop gently and let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Slowly, methodically, the puzzle was coming together. Soon, she would expose Camille's lies—not with rumors, but with hard, undeniable proof.

One step at a time, she reminded herself. First Stratus… then justice for Aria… and finally, revenge on every person who thought I was expendable.

In the distance, footsteps echoed faintly—Sebastian heading to his room, none the wiser about the storm his wife was preparing.

And Elena preferred it that way… for now.

___________________

Three days later at an auction

The grand auction house shimmered under the brilliance of crystal chandeliers and elegant gowns. Elena walked alongside Sebastian, her red gown hugging her curves with grace and power. At her side, Sebastian exuded effortless dominance in his tailored black suit, his sharp features drawing more attention than the priceless art on display.

Elena had attended many business events this past 2 months, but tonight felt different. Maybe it was the subtle glances Sebastian kept giving her,calculated yet softer or perhaps it was the quiet confidence she carried knowing Stratus was soaring beyond expectations.

As the auction began, Sebastian remained calm, bidding only on pieces he found meaningful. Elena, however, charmed many of the elite present, engaging in quiet discussions about tech, art, and investments. It wasn't lost on anyone that Mrs. Hart was no longer a simple trophy wife—she was a storm in high heels.

Later at the post-auction party, the atmosphere shifted from competitive to indulgent. Elena found herself sipping a few glasses of wine—more than usual. The warmth traveled through her limbs, her usual sharpness replaced by a rare, flushed ease. She noticed Sebastian lingering near her more than usual, attentive, protective, and undeniably magnetic.

When they left, the cool evening air sobered her slightly but the tipsiness remained, softening her footsteps as Sebastian guided her to the car and later through the mansion doors.

They reached her bedroom corridor, the grand hallway silent except for their footsteps. As Elena reached for her door handle, Sebastian's hand suddenly pressed against the door, stopping her.

"Sebastian…?" she blinked, turning to him, her voice lower from the alcohol.

His eyes darkened, jaw tightening. Without a word, he stepped closer, cornering her against the wall. His scent, crisp and masculine, filled her senses. Before she could fully process it, his hand cupped her chin, tilting it up, and his lips captured hers in a deep, commanding kiss.

Elena stiffened, her eyes wide...but the warmth of his lips, the assertive press of his body against hers, shattered her hesitation. Her fingers gripped his lapel, and she kissed him back, shyly at first, then more boldly as her mind swirled from more than just the alcohol.

Sebastian responded with a low, approving sound, deepening the kiss, stealing her breath and leaving her toes curling in her heels. When he finally pulled back, his lips lingered near her ear, voice low and husky.

"Goodnight… Elena."

And just like that, he turned and walked away, leaving Elena dazed, her back against the cool wall, heart racing uncontrollably.

It must be the wine, she convinced herself, ignoring the fact that Sebastian's footsteps were steady, his posture relaxed—not drunk… but perfectly aware of what he had done.