The "surprise" Julian promised was a private dinner on the roof of his penthouse. The city stretched out below them like a carpet of fallen stars, cold and distant. The black silk dress Elara wore felt like a second skin, but her real skin felt thin, as if the argument with Maya had stripped away her last layer of protection.
"You look like you're a thousand miles away," Julian said, his voice a low purr. He poured wine that glowed dark crimson under the flickering string lights.
"Just a long day at the gallery," Elara lied. The lies were becoming easier, smoother. Each one was a small stone she added to the wall she was building to keep the world out and Julian in.
Julian reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, navy velvet box. Elara's breath hitched in her throat. Her mind flashed to the receipt in her jewelry box—the three-thousand-dollar diamond pavé earrings. She felt a massive surge of relief wash over her, almost making her dizzy.
See? she told the ghost of Maya in her head. He was buying them for me. He was thinking of me. I'm not just a thrill. I'm the prize.
"Open it," he whispered, sliding the box across the linen tablecloth.
Elara opened the box with trembling fingers. Her heart didn't just drop; it went ice cold. Inside was a silver charm bracelet. It was thin, delicate, and looked like something bought in a rush at a department store. It was beautiful in a cheap way, but it was not the diamond earrings.
"It's for the anchor," Julian said, his voice dripping with practiced sentiment. He took her hand, his thumb tracing her pulse point. "To remind you that you're the only thing keeping me grounded in this storm."
Elara looked at the silver trinket. The lie wasn't just a crack anymore; it was a canyon. If he didn't give her the diamonds, who were they for? She looked at Julian, who was watching her with that same "thrilled" expression, his eyes wide and expectant, waiting to see if she would play her part.
In that moment, she realized he wasn't just lying about the money. He was testing her. He wanted to see if she was "blind" enough to thank him for a cheap substitute while he gave the real gems to someone else.
"It's... it's perfect, Julian," she said, her voice cracking only slightly, though it felt like glass in her throat. She held out her wrist, feeling like she was surrendering. "Put it on me?"
As he clipped the silver chain around her wrist, the metal felt like a shackle. She was taking her pride and standing there, even though she knew now that the hill was made of shifting sand.
"I have to go to the bathroom," she murmured, needing to escape the suffocating weight of his gaze.
Inside the penthouse, the air was chilled by the AC. She found his leather jacket draped carelessly over a velvet chair. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she reached into the inner pocket. She didn't find the diamonds, but she found a small, handwritten note on a cocktail napkin from The Velvet Room.
'For the thrill of the chase. See you at midnight. —S'
Elara stared at the 'S'. It wasn't her name. Her name started with 'E'. The 'S' was sharp, aggressive, and unknown.
She heard his footsteps approaching the door, the heavy thud of his boots on the rug. She shoved the note back, her hands trembling so hard she almost dropped it. She turned to the mirror and splashed cold water on her face. Her eyes were wide, but they weren't blind. She saw the 'S'. She saw the bracelet. She saw the $1,500 dinner she had paid for.
And still, she straightened her black silk dress. She applied a fresh coat of red lipstick, a battle paint for a war she was losing. She went back out to the roof and sat across from the man who was breaking her heart.
Because if she left now, Julian won. If she left now, Maya was right. And Elara would rather be destroyed than be wrong.