Chapter 5
Elara sat beside her brother in the hospital. It had been a week since she ran out of Noah's apartment. Things were calm between them now, but it still felt like there was an invisible wall separating them.
It had also been a week since she saw Lucien on the charity event advert.
Lucien wasn't just anyone to her. He was her childhood best friend—her first love. Their families had been inseparable back then. Her father and his were like brothers. She had known Lucien since before she could even form proper words. He had always looked out for her, teased her, protected her.
When she was younger, she got jealous anytime she saw him around other girls. Her mother always told her it was just a silly crush and that she'd get over it eventually. But she never did. What she felt for Lucien went deeper—it was love, the kind that made everything else fade away.
They started dating when she was sixteen. It felt like a dream come true, even though it had always felt like they'd been together long before that. For two perfect years, he was her everything—until one night when everything fell apart.
She went to his house, and instead of his usual smile, he yelled at her. He had never raised his voice at her before. His anger was so sudden, so raw, she froze. Then he told her to leave.
She cried the entire night. She begged him to just tell her what she did wrong. But he never spoke to her again. After that, their parents' friendship crumbled too.
No one ever told her what went wrong, not her parents, not his.
Everyone just went silent, as if the truth had been buried with the past.
She never fully recovered. The heartbreak shaped her—made her swear off love entirely. Until she met Noah.
At first, she didn't trust him. She kept waiting for the moment he'd walk away too. But Noah was gentle, patient. He treated her like she was something fragile and precious. By their second year together, she finally believed he wouldn't hurt her.
Still, seeing Lucien again—even just on a screen—stirred something she thought she'd buried forever. He looked older now, sharper. The same dark eyes, the same effortless confidence. Only now, he was powerful—he owned a company. His jawline looked stronger. He was still Lucien, but not the boy she once knew.
"Miss Elara?" The doctor's voice pulled her back to reality.
"Yes, doctor?" she said quickly.
"Can I see you in my office?"
She nodded and followed him, wiping her face to hide any trace of tears. She already knew what he wanted to say.
She had scraped together some money—from Ryan, from her parents, from selling off a few things. Noah had also given her some, though not nearly enough. She didn't understand why. He came from a wealthy family—or at least that's what he'd always claimed. Maybe he'd been lying, she thought, then pushed the thought away.
"I know what you're going to say, Doctor," she said before he could start. "I'm doing everything I can to get the money."
"I know you are, Miss Elara," he replied gently. "But I'd advise you to consider taking a loan."
"A loan?" she echoed. "I can't do that. How would I even pay it back?"
"Just… think about it," he said, his attention now buried in a stack of files. "That might be your safest option. Please, you have to try," the doctor urged gently. "There isn't much time left."
She didn't respond. She just turned and quietly left his office.
By the time she reached the hospital gate, her eyes were burning again. She wiped a stray tear quickly and adjusted her bag. That was when a reckless idea crossed her mind—something she knew was insane, but she couldn't stop herself.
---
Hours later, Elara stood in front of the Silverlight Foundation Annual Benefit Gala.
She looked beautiful. Dressed in a gown she'd been saving for her anniversary with Noah, she'd done her makeup herself, trying to look fresh—like someone who hadn't spent the past week crying in hospital corridors. She needed to blend in, even if just for tonight.
Because tonight, she was going to see Lucien.
She hadn't come here to reunite with him, and certainly not to fall in love again.
Lucien was her past — and he would always remain her past.
All Elara wanted was help. Just enough to save her family. Maybe, if she mentioned her brother, he'd listen. He'd always cared about him back then. For old times' sake, perhaps he'd offer the money she needed.
Even if he no longer cared for her, surely he wouldn't turn his back completely.
Not after everything they once were.
Her stomach twisted as she took a deep breath. What am I even doing? she thought.
"Miss, your ticket, please," a tall bodyguard said, stepping in front of her.
"I—uh—I don't have one," she stammered.
"Then you must have an invitation card." His tone was firm.
"I… I don't have either. I know this sounds crazy, but it's an emergency," she pleaded, her voice tight. "I just need to see someone, and I'll be gone."
"I can't allow that, ma'am."
"Please, sir, you have to help me—"
"Stop, or I'll have to escalate this."
"But you—"
Before she could reply, a smooth voice interrupted.
"What's going on, Michael?"
The guard turned. "She's not on the list, sir."
The man—tall, handsome, and strikingly confident—studied Elara for a moment, then smiled. "Michael, why would you stop such a beautiful lady?"
He turned to her. "I'm Nathan," he said, extending his hand.
"Elara," she replied softly.
He kissed the top of her hand with an easy charm that made her blush. "That's a lovely name. May I walk you in?"
Elara hesitated, but nodded. "Yes… thank you."
He led her inside. The hall was dazzling—crystal lights, shimmering gowns, laughter echoing from every corner. Everyone looked like they belonged to another world.
When she glanced back, Nathan was already on the phone, his attention elsewhere. She didn't even notice when he let go of her hand.
He looked perfect—tall, effortlessly elegant in a royal blue suit that fit him like it had been made just for him. His black hair gleamed under the lights, and he had the kind of presence that made people stop and stare.
He slipped his phone back into his pocket and looked at her again. "You okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine," she said, smiling nervously.
"Good." He smiled back. "Enjoy your evening, Miss Elara." And with that, he vanished into the crowd.
She sighed. "He looked so perfect," she murmured to herself.
A waiter passed by and offered her a glass of champagne. "Thank you," she said quietly, taking it.
She scanned the room again, searching for Lucien. No sign of him. The event was already halfway through. She sat down, feeling her hope slip away.
Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe she shouldn't have come.
Then, out of nowhere, someone stepped on her toes. She gasped in pain.
"Excuse you! You stepped on my toes!" Elara snapped, heat rising to her cheeks.
The young woman didn't even apologize. She just gave Elara a disdainful look before stomping off. People nearby turned to stare.
Elara scoffed. Money clearly doesn't buy manners, she thought.
"I apologize on her behalf."
The voice was deep. Resonant. Achingly familiar.
"It's fine, there—"
Elara turned. The words froze on her tongue.
Her breath hitched.
He looked exactly like the man on the screen — only ten times more real, ten times more dangerous.
He was closer than she'd prepared for, his expression caught in the same stunned recognition.
His eyes, the same gray-blue. The same piercing focus, mirrored the disbelief in hers.
"Lucien…?"
"Elara…?"
They spoke the names they hadn't dared utter in years — a perfect, aching echo.
The noise of the gala seemed to fade around them. It was as if the world had just stopped.