Chapter 3: The Woman I Blame

Elara POV

The east corridor was unnervingly silent, a hush like the aftermath of a storm. Not the peaceful quiet of a house at rest. The tense stillness that follows chaos. The ballroom behind me continued to hum with voices. Each step carried me further from the noise as if I could leave the chaos behind simply by walking away.

I had left the tray somewhere near the service table, though I couldn't remember setting it down. All I could recall was Victoria's voice calling my name, sharp and clear, and the moment Dante Ashford had begun walking toward me. My hands trembled, fists clenched at my sides as I reached the window at the corridor's end. The glass reflected a ghost of myself, hair slipping loose from its pins, eyes wide with something too complex to label as mere shock.

I pressed my palms against the marble of the windowsill. Just breathe. This is survivable. I had endured homes that changed every six months, nights hunched over library tables because my electricity was cut off. I could survive a man who hated me. I had to.

The thought barely settled before the door swung open. I didn't need to turn around. After three years in this house, I had learned the language of footsteps, the measured cadence that spoke of certainty and authority. Dante Ashford's footsteps were unmistakable.

He stopped behind me, voice calm. "You left the party."

"I needed air."

"That's one way to describe it." I turned to face him. Close, he looked even more composed than he had in the ballroom untouched by chaos, his face an unreadable mask.

"Forty-eight hours, " he said.

"I heard, " I whispered.

"Do you understand what that means?"

"Yes."

"Then explain it, " he challenged.

"What do you want me to say?"

"How did you convince my grandmother to gamble an empire on you?" he said, voice low.

"I didn't, " I shot back.

His gaze narrowed. "You expect me to believe that?"

"I expect you to believe the truth."

He stepped closer. "A girl with no connections, no influence and no family somehow persuaded Victoria Ashford to rewrite her estate plan?"

"I didn't persuade her to do anything."

"That's a convenient excuse."

Frustration sliced through me. "You're already convinced I manipulated her. Why ask questions if you've already made up your mind?"

"I prefer evidence."

"Then find some, " I said, the words spilling out before I could stop them.

Silence stretched between us. Dante studied me as if I were a puzzle. Finally he spoke. "You're very composed."

"I've had practice."

"That's not reassuring."

"I'm not trying to reassure you."

Something flickered across his face quickly, almost imperceptible, and vanished.

"You've been in this house three years, " he continued. " Enough to know my grandmother doesn't make impulsive decisions."

"I know."

"Then she must have had a reason."

"Yes, " I said softly. ". I don't know what it is."

"Not even a guess?"

Victoria's mind had always been difficult to decipher. But I knew one thing with certainty: she never acted without purpose.

"I think she believes this is necessary."

"For what?"

"For you."

Dante let out a laugh. "That's convenient."

"It's also true."

"And you're the innocent bystander she chose to sacrifice?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then what are you saying?"

"Victoria sees things most people don't."

"That's not an explanation."

"It's the one I have."

He stepped closer. "You've had three years of conversations, shared routines and influence.. You think I used that to trap you?"

"I think it's a possibility."

"Then there's nothing I can say that will change your mind."

"That depends on what you say."

"I didn't plan this, " I told him, voice steady. "I didn't ask for it. I would never manipulate Victoria."

"Why not?"

"Because she's the thing I've had in my family," I said softly, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

"You're very loyal to someone who just threw you into a marriage."

"I trust her."

"That might be the dangerous thing you've said tonight."

"Why?"

"Because my grandmother never plays games she expects to lose."

His words lingered. I thought about Victoria's smile in the ballroom and the certainty in her voice when she declared me her choice. I wondered what she saw in me. What made her believe I was worth risking everything?

"She must believe this is the move. For both of us."

Dante looked unconvinced. "You will realize what this means if I accept her terms."

"Yes," I whispered.

"Explain it to me."

"It means we get married."

"That's the version."

"And the complicated one?"

"It means we spend the rest of our lives pretending this was a choice."

I swallowed hard. "Maybe it will become one."

His laugh was bitter. "You're optimistic."

"No " I corrected. "Just realistic."

"And how do you picture it working?"

"I don't," I admitted, surprised by my honesty.

Silence stretched again. "You think I want this? A marriage built on obligation and resentment?"

"Then refuse, " he suggested.

"Watch you lose everything your family built?"

"That's not your responsibility."

"It feels like it, " I whispered.

"Why?"

Because I love you.

The thought burst forth, raw and startling. I pushed it down hard.

"Because Victoria believes I'm worth the risk. I won't prove her wrong by running away."

Dante's face hardened. "So you're staying."

"Yes."

"Even if that means marrying a man who doesn't trust you?"

"Yes."

"And living in a house where everyone assumes you manipulated your way into power?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"You're either very brave or very foolish."

"Both," I replied, catching a flicker of something respectful, perhaps in his eyes, before it vanished.

"If I marry you," he said, "understand this clearly."

"I'm listening."

"You will have the name. You will have the house. You will not have my trust. You will not have my affection. You will not have a marriage."

"I understand."

"You will spend every day regretting that you ever crossed my path."

The hallway felt impossibly small.. I had learned long ago how to stand in uncomfortable spaces.

"You're wrong, about one thing," I said quietly.

"What's that?"

"I didn't cross your path." I held his gaze. "You walked into mine."

Silence.

Finally, Dante stepped back.

"Forty-eight hours," he repeated. Then he walked away, the door closing behind him.

I stood alone in the corridor, heart pounding. Two days remained before Dante Ashford would decide whether to marry me or destroy his family's empire.. Somewhere deep inside, I knew that despite everything, I had already lost more than I could ever recover.

I whispered to the silence, "I didn't plan this." Even as the words left my lips, I knew one thing with absolute certainty: Dante Ashford already believed I had.