Chapter 2: The Man She Left Behind
The rain drummed harder now, turning the city into a blur of grey and red lights. Elara sat in the back of the black car, dress ruined, heart heavier than the veil that now lay crumpled beside her.
She stared at the screen of her phone. One name. One number.
"Aaron Vale."
She hadn't spoken to him in three years.
Her thumb hovered over the call button. Her stomach twisted.
Marcus glanced in the mirror again. "Are you sure you don't want to go home?"
"This isn't home anymore," she whispered, then pressed dial.
The line rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
Voicemail.
She almost hung up—until it picked up.
"…Hello?"
His voice hit her like a bullet. Rough. Sleepy. And unmistakably the same.
She froze.
"Elara?" His voice sharpened instantly. "Is that you?"
Her breath caught. "Hi, Aaron."
A silence fell.
"Elara, it's… been a long time."
"I know."
"Why are you calling me?"
Her throat tightened. "Because I made a mistake."
A pause.
Then a bitter chuckle. "You'll have to be more specific, Princess. You made a lot of mistakes. Starting with leaving me without a word."
She flinched. "I didn't have a choice."
"There's always a choice."
She exhaled shakily, fingers gripping the phone. "Aaron… I'm not calling to fight. I'm calling because I need your help."
"You said you never would."
"I lied."
"And now you want what? Closure?"
"No," she said, voice trembling now. "I want protection."
His breath caught.
"Elara, what did you do?"
She looked out the window as the city passed in smeared lights. "I left Callan at the altar."
"You what?!"
"In front of two hundred guests. Press. Family. Everyone. I walked away."
Silence.
Then, "Are they coming after you?"
She hesitated. "Not yet. But they will. Callan doesn't like to lose."
Aaron cursed under his breath. "And now you're running to me."
"I didn't know where else to go."
He didn't answer right away. When he spoke again, his voice had changed—deeper, colder.
"Where are you?"
"The Roth penthouse. Just packing."
"Don't. Go. Inside."
"What?"
"Elara, listen to me. Leave the building. Now. Go somewhere crowded. Somewhere public. Then send me the address."
"Why? What's—"
"Elara." His tone hardened. "Just trust me."
And to her own surprise… she did.
Thirty minutes later, Elara sat in the back corner of a 24-hour diner, shivering in her soaked dress, a black coat borrowed from Marcus draped over her shoulders.
She stirred her coffee with trembling hands, eyes darting to the door every time it opened.
Until it opened for him.
Aaron Vale.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in black. Beard stubble. And eyes like fire and ice all at once.
He spotted her instantly.
And despite everything—despite the years, the betrayal, the silence—he came straight to her, sat across from her, and said—
"You look terrible."
She laughed. It sounded broken. "Nice to see you too."
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of everything unsaid hanging heavy between them.
He finally broke it.
"Tell me everything."
And she did.
About the deal. The fake engagement. The Roth family's control. The secrets. The money. The lies. And finally… the baby.
Aaron's spoon clattered onto the table. "Wait. Back up. The baby?"
Elara swallowed hard. "He's three. His name is Leo."
Aaron stared at her. "Three?"
She nodded.
"And he's… mine?"
She blinked. Hard. "No."
The word hit like a hammer. But then—
"He's mine, Aaron. Not Callan's. Yours."
His chair scraped back as he stood, stunned. Furious.
"You left me. You vanished. And you had my son?"
Elara stood too. "I was trying to protect him. From your world. From mine. From the Roths. They would've taken him from me, Aaron!"
"You don't get to decide that alone!"
"I had to."
"No," he growled, voice low and dangerous. "You chose to."
They stood there in the middle of the diner, soaked, broken, raw.
Then his voice softened, cracked. "Where is he now?"
"With my aunt. In the countryside. Safe. I didn't want to bring him into this until I knew what I was walking into."
Aaron exhaled hard, rubbing a hand down his face.
Then finally—finally—he sat down again.
"We're going to fix this," he said.
"How?"
He looked her straight in the eyes. "We fight fire with fire. The Roths want a scandal? We give them a war."