Chapter 152

No.1

August's phone rang just as he was guiding Allena toward his own waiting car. He glanced at the caller ID. Maeve Kearney. He answered, his voice clipped.

"Maeve."

Her voice came through, tight with a frantic,tearful energy. "August, thank God. I am so sorry about what happened. I feel just awful. Please, tell me Elisa is okay. You have to make sure she gets home safe.·Please,for me."

He hung up without another word, his jaw tight with irritation.

Allena sensed the shift in his mood. "What is it,darling?" she asked, rubbing his arm.

No.2

August's eyes found Elisa, who was standing by the open door of the Maybach a few yards away."Nothing," he said, his voice cold. "A small favor."

He strode toward Elisa, his long legs closing the distance in seconds. He didn't ask. He commanded.

"Get in my car. I'll take you."

Elisa didn't even turn to look at him. She spoke to Alastair's driver. "Let's go."

August's authority, so absolute in his world, had just been publicly nullified. A flash of raw anger crossed his face. He moved faster than she expected, his hand shooting out and clamping down on her arm.His grip was brutal, and his fingers dug into her flesh,coincidentally pressing near the fresh bruise on her wrist.

No.3

A sharp, involuntary gasp of pain escaped her lips.She didn't cry out, but she turned, her eyes meeting his, cold and defiant.

"Don't make me say it again," August said, his voice a low growl. "You've caused enough trouble for one night. Don't make Maeve call me again."

Elisa knew he was capable of making a scene, of physically forcing her into his car right there on the street. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of another public spectacle. She stepped away from the open door of the Maybach and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod to Alastair's driver, who

understood immediately. The Maybach's door closed, and the car pulled silently away into traffic without her.

A moment later, August's black Rolls-Royce Phantom matérialized at thecurb. His driver, a man trained to be invisible, opened the rear door.

No.4

August didn't move to help Elisa. Instead, he walked around to the other side, opened the door for Allena,and placed a gentlemanly hand over the doorframe to protect her head as she slid inside.

The gesture was a small, brutal masterpiece of cruelty. It screamed his preference louder than any words could.

Elisa pulled open the front passenger door herself and got in. The seat was cold.

The cavernous interior of the car was filled with the scent of Allena's expensive perfume and a silence so heavy it felt like a physical weight.

Allena broke it, her voice syrupy sweet. She snuggled against August's shoulder. "August, can we go to the estate in Connecticut next weekend? I'd love to visit Dr. Blevins. I heard he's working on a new anti-aging

No.5

therapy."

She mentioned Dr. Blevins deliberately, a calculated probe to see if Elisa would react, a way to flaunt her access to Elisa's own mentor.

August stroked her hair, his voice a low, indulgent murmur. "Of course. I'll have Simon handle it through the Senator's office. Blevins is a difficult man to see,but he won won't refuse a request from the Senator."

Their conversation was a bubble of intimacy,designed to exclude her, to render her invisible. Elisa kept her gaze fixed on the blur ofstreetlights passing outside the window.

Her lack of reaction seemed to annoy Allena more than an outburst would have. Allena pulled out her phone, opened Instagram, and angled the screen forward.

No.6

"Oh, look," she said with a small, theatrical gasp."Devon is so naughty, always posting things."

On the screen was a photo of August and Allena from the party, their heads close together, smiling. The caption read: "The future is here."

Allena laughed lightly. "He got your good side,August. You look so handsome."

It was a direct, blatant provocation. A public declaration of their status, displayed for the benefit of the wife sitting just a few feet away.

Elisa's expression didn't change. Her reflection in the window was a pale, impassive mask. Her stillness was a form of resistance Allena couldn't comprehend. The carefully crafted insults, the flaunting of affection, all of it sid off her like water off stone.

No.7

Finally, the Rolls-Royce pulled up in front of her safe house.

The moment the car stopped, Elisa unbuckled her seatbelt. She pushed the door open, stepped out,and closed it behind her without a word or a backward glance.

She walked up the path to her frontdoor,the sound of the heavy car door shutting her out, leaving the world of power,money, and humiliation behind her.