The morning sunlight filtered through the cream curtains, casting a soft golden hue across the bedroom. Aurora stirred, the familiar scent of Elias on the sheets wrapping around her like a gentle cocoon. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a brief moment, everything felt still—safe.
Then she realized the other side of the bed was empty.
She sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest. The quiet of the room was not alarming, but it carried a weight, as though something was left unsaid. She slipped her feet into her slippers and padded to the door. As she reached the living room, the sound of murmured voices caught her attention.
Elias was on the phone, his back turned, his tone firm but low.
"I don't care what her proposal is. I'm not interested. Keep it professional, or cut her off completely."
There was a pause, and then he added, "No, she doesn't get to play games with my wife."
Aurora's breath caught.
Wife.
It shouldn't have hit her so hard—after all, it was technically true—but the conviction in his voice wasn't part of the contract. It sounded real. Like he meant it.
He turned just as she stepped forward. The moment their eyes met, Elias's entire expression softened.
"You're awake," he said, ending the call.
She offered a tentative smile. "Everything okay?"
"It will be. Just some cleanup from last night's chaos. Leila sent another invite. I declined—again."
Aurora nodded, folding her arms across her chest. "You don't have to explain. I trust you."
That stopped him.
Trust. It wasn't a word tossed around lightly in his world.
"I appreciate that," he said quietly. "It means more than you know."
He walked toward her and reached out, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand. "We still have that weekend away. I called the pilot. We can leave by noon."
She blinked. "Pilot?"
"I thought we could go to the cabin up north. It's secluded. Peaceful. No reporters. No company shareholders. Just us."
She smiled. "Sounds perfect."
"Go pack what you need. I'll have everything else arranged."
An hour later, they were in the air, Elias's private jet cutting through the clouds with effortless speed. Aurora sat beside him, watching the world shrink below them. Despite the luxurious surroundings, it was the silence between them that felt the most indulgent—uncomplicated, unforced.
He reached over and took her hand.
"I know this isn't the honeymoon you imagined," he said.
She laughed lightly. "Elias, I never even imagined I'd have a honeymoon. This? This is more than enough."
He nodded, looking relieved. "I just wanted to give us a moment away from expectations."
Aurora turned to him, serious now. "You don't always have to give, Elias. Sometimes just being is enough."
He didn't respond right away. Instead, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, his gaze lingering on her face.
It wasn't long before they landed and were driven up a winding road into a forested estate. The cabin was more like a luxury lodge, perched on the edge of a quiet lake, surrounded by pine trees and mist. The air was cool and crisp, with the faint scent of woodsmoke drifting on the breeze.
Inside, the lodge was warm and inviting—stone fireplace, plush seating, soft lighting. Aurora wandered through the space, letting her fingers graze the walls and bookshelves. It felt untouched by the world outside.
"It's beautiful," she murmured.
"It's the only place I come to when I need clarity," Elias said from behind her. "Now, I thought maybe it could be ours. If you want it."
She turned, surprised. "You'd share this with me?"
He shrugged one shoulder. "You've already made your way into every part of my life, Aurora. It would be stupid to pretend otherwise."
She stepped forward, her heart thudding. "Then don't pretend. Not here."
He nodded slowly. "No pretending."
They spent the rest of the day exploring the area, walking by the lake, skipping stones, laughing like two people who had no past weighing them down. It wasn't grand or romantic in the way the media portrayed, but it was real.
By evening, they sat by the fireplace, two glasses of wine between them, and a soft jazz tune humming in the background. Aurora curled her feet beneath her, her head resting against his shoulder.
"Tell me something you've never told anyone," she said.
Elias didn't speak at first. Then, after a long pause, he murmured, "I almost didn't come back to the city last year. I thought of leaving everything behind. Changing my name. Disappearing."
Her eyes widened. "Why?"
"I was tired of pretending. Of being the CEO everyone feared. The man who had everything but couldn't feel anything. I was hollow."
"And what stopped you?"
He looked down at her. "A photo."
"A photo?"
He nodded. "Of you. From one of the event portfolios my assistant brought in. You were in the background, laughing with someone. I didn't even know who you were then. But something about that moment… that smile… it reminded me that life wasn't always cruel."
Aurora's breath hitched. "You're telling me you stayed because of a photo of me?"
"Crazy, right?" he said, chuckling softly. "But yes. I think some part of me knew—knew that there was something still worth staying for."
Tears welled in her eyes. "You've never told me that."
"I've never told anyone that."
She leaned up and kissed him, slow and deep. It wasn't about passion or urgency—it was gratitude. It was understanding. It was the beginning of something that finally felt honest.
That night, as they lay in bed beneath a soft blanket, Aurora watched the firelight flicker across the ceiling and whispered, "Do you think we'll last?"
Elias didn't answer right away. He turned to her, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"I think we'll last as long as we keep choosing each other. Even on the hard days. Especially on the hard days."
She nodded, comforted. "Then I choose you."
He smiled, a rare, vulnerable thing. "And I choose you."
Outside, the wind whispered through the trees, but inside, the warmth between them held strong. In a world that never stopped spinning, they had found something still—something that might just last.
Aurora woke to the scent of pinewood smoke and the sound of birds chirping outside the cabin's large window. The first rays of sunlight spilled across the hardwood floor, casting long golden shadows. Elias was already awake, propped up against the headboard beside her, scrolling through something on his tablet. But the moment he noticed her stir, he set it aside.
"Good morning," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
She smiled sleepily. "Morning. Did you sleep well?"
"I did," he replied, his eyes never leaving hers. "Better than I have in months."
She stretched lazily beneath the sheets and turned toward him. "I don't want this to end."
"It doesn't have to," Elias said, his voice low, calm. "We can stay a few more days. Or however long you want."
Aurora's heart twisted at his offer. It wasn't about the location or the luxury—it was the way he said it. Like he meant it. Like he wanted more than just time. He wanted her.
She sat up and rested her hand on his. "What happens when we return to the city? When the noise comes back and the pressure starts again?"
Elias exhaled slowly. "Then we face it together. I'm not the same man I was when we started this marriage, Aurora. And you've never been just a pawn in my plan. You've changed everything."
Her throat tightened. "You've changed me too. I used to be afraid of feeling this deeply."
He leaned in and kissed her forehead gently. "Then let's keep growing. No contracts. No timelines. Just us."
She nodded against his chest, and for the first time, there was no unspoken tension between them. Only clarity. Only warmth.
Later that day, after a quiet breakfast and a walk by the lake, Elias received a message from his assistant. He glanced at it briefly and his jaw clenched.
"What is it?" Aurora asked as they sat by the porch, sipping coffee.
"Another leak. This time from inside the company. Photos of our wedding, details about your background… someone is feeding the press."
Her stomach dropped. "Do you think it's Leila?"
"I wouldn't put it past her," he muttered. "But it's not just her. Someone in my circle wants to see this marriage fail."
Aurora stared down at her mug. "Because I'm not from your world."
Elias looked at her sharply. "Don't say that. You belong with me more than any of them ever did."
"But they won't stop, will they?" she whispered. "There will always be someone trying to tear us apart."
He reached for her hand and laced their fingers together. "Then let them try. I'm not walking away, Aurora. Not this time."
She nodded slowly, squeezing his hand. "Neither am I."
The quiet was broken only by the rustle of wind through the trees and the distant call of a bird. But beneath that silence, a storm was already forming in the world they'd temporarily left behind.
When they returned to the city the next day, reality hit quickly. Paparazzi waited outside the estate. Headlines screamed false narratives. Aurora's inbox was flooded with vile messages from strangers who had somehow dug up details about her past—her job as a waitress, her father's debts, even her brief time in foster care.
Elias watched her grow quieter each day. She never complained, never confronted him about it. But he saw how she avoided social media, how her smile didn't quite reach her eyes anymore.
One evening, he walked into the library and found her curled up on the leather couch, a book in her lap but unread. Her gaze was distant.
"You okay?" he asked gently.
She looked up and forced a smile. "Just tired."
He sat beside her. "Aurora…"
"I knew this would happen," she murmured, eyes glossy. "I knew people would find reasons to attack me. I just didn't expect it to hurt this much."
Elias wrapped an arm around her. "I'll make it stop."
"You can't control everything, Elias."
"No," he said. "But I can protect you. And I will."
The next morning, Elias called an emergency board meeting. He demanded a full investigation into the leaks, hired a new cybersecurity firm, and issued a public statement defending Aurora, declaring their marriage real and his intentions permanent.
The fallout was immediate. Some shareholders pushed back. A few media outlets mocked his 'emotional response.' But others rallied behind him. For the first time, Elias didn't care about the stock prices or reputation scores. He cared about her.
When he returned home that night, Aurora met him at the door.
"I saw the statement," she said, voice trembling.
"I meant every word."
She stepped closer, resting her hands against his chest. "You didn't have to do that."
"Yes, I did," he said, lifting her chin. "Because I won't let them hurt you. Not now. Not ever."
Tears spilled from her eyes as she leaned into him. "I love you, Elias."
The words fell between them like petals in spring—soft, undeniable, beautiful.
Elias stilled, his breath catching. He cupped her face, his thumb brushing away a tear.
"I love you too, Aurora. More than I ever thought possible."
And just like that, the storm outside could rage on. The critics could shout. The world could watch. But inside their home, they had built something stronger than any scandal.
They had built love.