The grip on Elara's wrist was like a steel vise. Alexander's thumb brushed casually against her pulse point, which was hammering wildly against her skin.
He didn't look like a man who had just been handed an outrageous, scandalous proposal in the middle of a crowded ballroom. He looked like a predator who had just watched dinner walk directly into his cage.
"Elara!" Julian's furious voice shattered the heavy silence.
He shoved past a paralyzed waiter, his face flushed an ugly, dark red. Chloe trailed anxiously behind him, her eyes wide with manufactured innocence.
"Have you lost your damn mind?" Julian hissed, stopping just short of Alexander's table. He was breathing hard, clearly trying to restrain himself from grabbing her. He shot an apologetic, terrified look at his uncle. "Uncle Alexander, I am so sorry. She's... she's not well. Just bridal jitters. She doesn't know what she's saying."
Julian reached out to grab Elara's arm. "Come here right now. Stop embarrassing us."
Before Elara could slap his hand away, Alexander moved.
It wasn't a fast, jerky movement. It was smooth, lazy, and utterly terrifying. Alexander shifted his weight, pulling Elara slightly behind him, and set his dark, freezing gaze on his nephew.
Julian's hand froze mid-air. The color drained from his face.
"Did I give you permission to touch what belongs to me?" Alexander's voice was barely a whisper, yet it carried an authority that made the temperature in the room plummet.
Julian swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Uncle, she's my fiancé—"
"Was," Alexander corrected, his lips curving into a cold smirk. He slowly stood up, towering over Julian by a good four inches. The difference between them was staggering. Julian looked like a boy playing dress-up in a tuxedo; Alexander wore his power like a second skin. "From what I just heard, Miss Vance realized she was settling for copper when she could have gold. Isn't that right, Elara?"
He didn't call her Miss Vance this time. The way her name rolled off his tongue sent a completely different kind of shiver down her spine.
"Exactly," Elara stepped out from behind him, lifting her chin. She looked at Julian, taking in his pathetic, humiliated expression. In her past life, she had died for this man. Now, looking at him, she felt nothing but an overwhelming urge to crush him into dust.
"Sister, please!" Chloe suddenly stepped forward, tears pooling in her doe eyes. She grabbed Elara's dress. "Why are you doing this? Julian loves you so much! Don't ruin your own happiness just because you're throwing a tantrum!"
Elara looked down at the hand clutching her pristine white gown. She remembered those same hands sliding her wedding ring off her dying body.
"Let go of me," Elara said, her voice dripping with venom.
Chloe flinched, stepping back as if she'd been struck, the tears spilling over perfectly. "I-I just want what's best for you..."
"If you want him so badly, Chloe, you can have him," Elara said loud enough for the first row of whispering guests to hear. "I'm done recycling trash."
The ballroom erupted into a frenzy of shocked murmurs. Julian's fists clenched, his humiliation complete.
"You'll regret this, Elara," Julian spat out, his facade of the loving groom entirely shattered. "You think my uncle actually wants you? You're just making a fool of yourself."
Alexander didn't bother looking at his nephew again. He wrapped a strong, warm arm around Elara's waist, pulling her flush against his solid chest. The scent of sandalwood and something distinctly masculine enveloped her.
"We are leaving," Alexander announced to the room. He didn't raise his voice, but the murmurs instantly died.
He led Elara toward the exit. The crowd parted for them like the Red Sea. No one dared to breathe, let alone stop them.
Ten minutes later, Elara was sitting in the back of a sleek, black Maybach. The tinted windows shut out the flashing lights of the confused paparazzi outside the hotel.
The partition between them and the driver was raised. It was completely silent.
Alexander poured two glasses of whiskey from the car's minibar. He handed her one, his dark eyes studying her intently in the dim lighting.
"Drink," he ordered. "You're shaking."
Elara took the glass. She hadn't realized her hands were trembling. It wasn't fear, but the pure, adrenaline-fueled aftershock of changing her destiny. She took a sip, the liquid burning a pleasant trail down her throat.
"So," Alexander drawled, leaning back against the leather seat and unbuttoning his suit jacket. "You used me to humiliate my nephew in front of the entire city. A bold move, little bird. Stupid, perhaps, but bold."
"I didn't use you," Elara replied, setting her glass down and meeting his gaze head-on. "I made you a business offer."
"A marriage proposal isn't a business offer."
"In our circles, it is nothing but a business offer," she countered smoothly. "Your board of directors is pressuring you to settle down and clean up your... dangerous image. They want a respectable wife by your side. The Vance family has clean money, deep roots, and a pristine reputation. I solve your problem."
Alexander chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that filled the small space. He leaned closer, invading her personal space until she could feel the heat radiating from him.
"And what do you get out of it?" he asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous register. "Don't feed me lies about love at first sight, Elara. I saw the way you looked at Julian. You didn't just want to leave him. You wanted to destroy him."
Elara's breath hitched. He was entirely too perceptive.
"I want protection," she said honestly. "And I want the power to crush him."
Alexander stared at her for a long, agonizing moment. The air between them was thick with tension. Then, his hand moved, his large fingers gently tracing the line of her jaw. The touch was soft, entirely at odds with the violent reputation of the man.
"I can give you all the power in the world," Alexander murmured, his thumb brushing over her lower lip. "But if you want to use the Cross name to play your games of revenge, you don't get to be a wife in name only. You play by my rules."
Elara swallowed, her heart pounding against her ribs. "What rules?"
A wicked, breathtaking smile curved Alexander's lips.
"Rule number one," he whispered, leaning in until his lips brushed against her ear. "We get married tomorrow morning. And you belong entirely to me."