Bruised twilight stained Ashbourne as Elara stumbled off the bus, city fumes clawing at her throat. The biting wind was nothing against the furnace of dread burning inside her. Ignoring the city's frantic pulse, her focus narrowed to a single point: Chloe. Her best friend.
She found Chloe shattered. Huddled on her sleek sofa, the woman destined for Aeternum Capital's boardrooms—Ashbourne's largest corporate empire, owned by the Thornes—looked devastatingly fragile. Tears had smudged her perfect makeup; her confident eyes were swollen ruins.
"Elara?" Chloe rasped, voice thickened by tears.
Elara's heart cracked. She crossed the room in three strides, gathering Chloe's trembling frame. She held her tight as the storm of sobs broke.
"It's over," Chloe choked. "Months of lies. Some office fling at Aeternum." A bitter laugh escaped her. "Five years... traded for a rung on his damn social ladder."
"I'm so sorry," Elara murmured, pressing her forehead to Chloe's temple, anchoring herself in the familiar scent of her perfume. "He's a fool who never deserved you." She held her friend until the sobs dissolved into hollow silence.
As stillness settled, heavy with shared pain, Elara felt her secret swell like a poison sac. Neon memories from the Meridian pulsed behind her eyelids. "Chloe..." The whisper scraped her throat raw. "Something happened last night. Something terrible."
Chloe lifted her head, grief momentarily eclipsed by alarm. "Elly? What's wrong?" She sat upright, hands gripping Elara's arms.
Elara flinched. Shame flooded her veins. "It was Bianca."
"Again?" Chloe's voice tightened. "What now?"
"She drugged me." Elara's words fell like stones. "Then... hired someone... violated me."
"Bianca drugged you? Arranged that?" Chloe recoiled. "Why? That's monstrous!" Her mind raced—she knew Bianca was cruel, but this?
Elara's bitter smile was a fracture in her composure. "First thing... Bianca's my cousin."
"Cousin?" Chloe breathed. "You never said! Your own family did this?"
"Yes." The word carried years of exhaustion. "After my parents died, my uncle took me in. That house was survival, not a home." Elara's voice gained momentum as torment spilled out: scholarship taunts, sabotaged jobs, "accidental" bruises. "But meeting Julian? That unleashed her poison. She couldn't stomach my happiness with someone from her world." She described ruined interviews, trashed flowers, venomous dinners. "Her jealousy was suffocating."
"Elly..." Chloe whispered, wounded. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"How?" Elara's voice shattered. "Every meal tasted like charity. I learned invisibility. I couldn't let you see that broken girl."
"Last night," Elara continued, voice scraping bedrock, "Bianca handed me a drink. Smiling. I was desperate enough to hope... for a truce." Tears tracked through her words. "Defenceless in minutes. Blurry... then black. I woke up violated. By a stranger." Her shoulders trembled violently. "I can't go back, Chloe. Never."
Chloe pulled her into a fortress of an embrace. "You're never returning to that viper's nest. You live here now. Tonight."
Relief warred with guilt. "I'll pay rent—"
"Don't mention it," Chloe cut in, gentle steel in her tone. "It's non-negotiable. You're safe here."
The Interruption
Elara's phone vibrated—a shard of noise slicing the calm.
Julian.
Her stomach dropped. Chloe squeezed her hand.
"Julian?" Elara's voice strained.
"Elara love? Hi listen, I'm sorry but dinner's off tonight. My dad's back unexpectedly. Family summit." Apology softened his tone.
"Family's important," she lied, tasting ashes.
Her compliance drew his affectionate sigh. "Clear your Thursday. I want you to meet him properly. Dinner at the villa."
"Meet him? Julian, is it too soon—" Panic thinned her voice.
"Too soon?" His chuckle was warm oblivion. "It's been a year. We're building a life, Elara. He needs to meet my future wife."
Marriage. Future wife. The beautiful words were like daggers. "...Okay," she whispered, didn't know how to refuse. "Thursday it is."
"Perfect. Seven sharp. Wear the blue dress? Love you." The line went dead.
Elara doubled over as if punched, a guttural, wrenching sob tearing free. The violation, Bianca's venom, Julian's oblivious love, and the terrifying Thursday's weight collided—shattering her.
The Crossroads
When the sobs subsided, Elara lifted a face ravaged by despair. "Chloe... How do I face his father? How do I even look at Julian... knowing?"
Chloe clasped her hands, gaze compassionate yet direct. "Breathe. You have choices. Hard ones."
She laid them bare:
"Plan A: You say nothing. To Julian. To anyone. You lock it away. Treat it like... a horrific accident. Separate. You build your life with him, burying the truth deep. You protect him from the ugliness. Maybe... protect yourself from his reaction. Pretend it never happened, that it never touches the life you build together."
Elara flinched violently, imagining the lie festering, poisoning every touch, every promise.
"Plan B:" Chloe continued, steady. "You tell Julian. Everything. The drugging, the assault, Bianca's role, her years of torment, her jealousy. Brutal honesty. You give him the truth. And you give him the right to choose. To choose you, carrying this, or... not. It risks everything. The relationship. The future. His image of you, of your world."
Silence descended, thick and suffocating. Elara stared past Chloe. The brutal options hung in the air, each one a different kind of torture.
Silence. The word shimmered, seductive. She could bury it. Smile through villa dinners. Wear the blue dress. Claim the future—security, love, escape. Bianca's evil would be her secret cross. Julian's perfect image of her would remain untarnished. Safe.
The vision curdled. Bianca's smug face materialised—that knowing glint. Could she kiss Julian, say "I do," with that rot festering beneath? It meant Bianca won. Poisoned her one pure thing. And the violation wasn't some separate wound—it was in her now. A marriage built on that omission? The lie's weight would crush her faster than any truth.
Truth. The word was an ice blade. Telling Julian. Watching love drown in horror... disgust... pity? Annihilation. He belonged to Bianca's coveted world. Would he believe the scholarship girl accusing his circles of monstrosity? If he walked away... The vice around her lungs tightened. Could she survive losing him after this?
She squeezed her eyes shut, rocking. "I can't choose," she whispered raggedly. "Silence feels like slow suffocation. But truth? Chloe, it could burn everything. What if he sees me broken? What if he doubts me? What if he stops loving me?" A fresh sob escaped. "Losing him now... after this..."
Elara drew a breath that reached her bones. Spine straightening, she lifted her chin. Tears still glistened, but her eyes held a steely clarity. That weary mouth firmed into a line of resolve.
"Every second since he called," she said, voice quiet but diamond-hard, "I've weighed it. Path One?" She shook her head. "I won't. I refuse to build our future on Bianca's foundation of lies. It would rot us both from within." She swallowed. "Julian deserves the whole, hideous truth. And the choice. Before Thursday. Before he presents me as his future wife... I tell him. Everything."
The decision hung—terrifying, immense, yet radiating fragile courage. Elara embraced the crushing weight of honesty, praying Julian's love was armour enough, knowing silence was the true corruption. The path ahead was shadowed, but she would walk it with truth as her torch, no matter the burn.