The rain didn't just fall; it screamed.
Elena didn't stop running until she reached the darkened courtyard of the West Wing. Her emerald dress was soaked, the silk clinging to her skin like a second, colder layer of shame.
Engaged. She leaned against a stone pillar, gasping for air. She had known this world was a shark tank, but she hadn't expected Julian to be the one to lure her into the deep water just to watch her drown.
"Elena!"
She didn't have to turn around. The sound of heavy footsteps splashing through the puddles told her he had followed.
"Go away, Julian!" she yelled over the thunder. "Go back to your fiancée. She's probably looking for her ring."
A hand gripped her shoulder, spinning her around. Julian was drenched. His tuxedo jacket was gone, his white shirt translucent from the rain, and his eyes... his eyes looked like a storm of their own.
"I didn't know," he ground out, his voice raw. "I swear to you, Elena, I didn't know he was going to announce that tonight."
"Does it matter?" she laughed, a bitter, jagged sound. "You're a Blackwood. You do what you're told. You hate me because it's easier than fighting for me, and now you're marrying Cissy because it's easier than being poor."
"You think this is about money?" Julian slammed his hand against the pillar beside her head, his face inches from hers. "My father didn't just 'frame' your mother five years ago, Elena. He bought the debt on your family's house. He owns the roof over your mother's head right now. If I don't play his game, he'll have her on the street by morning."
Elena's heart stopped. The "Hate" she had nursed for five years suddenly felt like a lie. He hadn't left her because he was bored; he had left her to keep her family from being destroyed.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered, the rain washing away the tears on her cheeks.
"Because you were supposed to stay away!" Julian roared, his composure finally shattering. "You were supposed to hate me enough to never come back! But you showed up at that lecture hall, looking at me with those eyes, and every bit of 'hate' I'd built up turned into a lie."
He grabbed her waist, pulling her flush against him. The heat radiating from his body was the only warm thing in the freezing night.
"I hate you for coming back, Elena Vance," he whispered against her lips. "Because now I have to watch you lose everything all over again because of me."
"Then don't watch," she breathed. "Fight."
Julian didn't answer with words. He crashed his lips onto hers—a kiss that wasn't sweet or romantic, but desperate and punishing. It tasted of salt, rain, and five years of repressed longing. For a moment, the "Hate" was gone, replaced by a fire that threatened to burn both of them down.
He pulled back just an inch, his forehead resting against hers. "This changes nothing. Tomorrow, in front of the school, I am still the man engaged to Cissy Montgomery. I will still be cruel to you. I will still treat you like a stranger."
"I know," Elena said, her voice steadying. "But now I know why."
Julian stepped back into the shadows, his face hardening once more. "Don't get used to the honesty, Elena. It's a luxury we can't afford."
He turned and walked back toward the lights of the gala, leaving Elena alone in the rain. She was still a scholarship student with $42 in her bank account, and he was still a prince in a gilded cage.
But for the first time in five years, the war had a purpose.