Chapter 4

Elias

"Listen, Elias, stop scowling all the time—you'll frighten Anita away. Her family's in the rare-earth business, old friends of your grandfather's. If the two of you married, our family's fortunes would soar."

"Come on, son, give me a smile. Like this."

Vivian's lips curled upward into a deliberate, textbook-perfect fake smile.

The corner of my own mouth twitched into an arc of impatience.

That afternoon I had cut my work in San Francisco short because my mother had summoned me home on the pretext of being ill. Only when I arrived did I discover she wasn't sick at all—the whole thing was a ruse to set me up with Anita.

I had never cared for arranged marriages, riddled as they were with calculation. Had I seen through her lie from the start, I might already be on a plane back to New York by now. The other day Elena had turned down my proposal. I knew I had probably been too abrupt and frightened my girl, but I had no intention of giving up. I was about to take up a partnership at Big Law, which would make us colleagues, and I was confident I could show her the depth of my love. And yet my mother was trying to squander my precious time on something as trivial as a matchmaking date!

I refused to play along with her performance. Instead, I opened a booking app to check for the next flight to New York. Never before had I been so desperate to get home.

Seeing me distracted, my mother snatched my phone away, planted her hands on her hips, and jabbed a finger at me.

"Elias, I'm talking to you about something serious. You're already thirty-two. It's time you settled into a marriage and produced an heir."

"Even if you don't like the girls I introduce, you can find one to your own taste. A lawyer, a doctor, an actress—I wouldn't even mind a waitress from a coffee shop. I won't look down on where she comes from."

My mother's nagging droned on until my head ached.

No one understood my mother better than I did. She was domineering and vain. Ever since I had taken over the family business, she had scoured the world for marriage prospects on my behalf. She insisted she didn't care about pedigree or background, yet the arrogance in her eyes was enough to make anyone keep their distance.

I let out a soft sigh and looked her straight in the eye.

"Mother, I've told you my marriage is none of your concern. I already have the right person to marry!"

"What?"

In that moment my mother forgot all her poise. Her shriek was loud enough for the dogs outside the villa to hear. Clearly she didn't believe me—she took it for another excuse to wriggle out of the date.

"Don't you lie to me! Don't think I can't read your mind!"

Before she could finish, I pulled out my wallet and drew from it a small photograph. It was Elena, wearing a graduation cap, beaming radiantly. I had cut it from a group photo of outstanding graduates taken at a school anniversary—the one treasure I possessed.

She snatched it from me in disbelief and studied it closely.

"Who is she? You'd better not be lying to me! How did you meet? Why don't I know anything about this?"

"She was a junior of mine at Harvard Law School. Everything else you want to know, I'll tell you in time," I said calmly.

My mother's mouth fell open in astonishment, unable to utter a word.

My thoughts drifted at once to the freshman welcome dance that summer. I should have been buried in my thesis, but my friend Jack had dragged me along to unwind. Bored, I was standing there when Elena appeared before me. She seemed to have had too much to drink—the alcohol had flushed her cheeks, and her smile was lovely. A bottle in one hand, she slid her other arm around my neck and pressed her lips to mine.

Her soft mouth and the fresh scent of camellias about her were impossible to resist. My hands moved of their own accord, circling her waist and deepening the kiss.

Then Elena got a good look at my face. Horrified, she pulled back and hurried to apologize.

"I'm so sorry! I mistook you for someone else."

And with that she darted away.

I stood there in the crowd, watching her retreating figure, savoring the warmth she had left on my lips. I had assumed "mistaking me for someone else" was just her excuse to escape the awkwardness. But the next day, asking around through friends, I learned that Elena did indeed have a boyfriend—and that she truly had mistaken me that night.

After that I had no choice but to let it go. When I graduated, I left New York and returned to San Francisco. Yet in all the years since, I have never been able to forget that kiss.

Then, this year, my friend Jack invited me to join Big Law. In the team-building photos on his Facebook page, I was stunned to spot Elena. Jack seemed to have no memory whatsoever of this Harvard junior; he knew only that she was an intern who had just joined the firm. In that instant, my heart would not stay still. I was seized by an urgent desire to be near her, and so, with scarcely a second thought, I accepted Jack's offer.

The night we celebrated signing the contract, I ran into her—of all places—in a hotel elevator. She seemed drunk, sprawled limply against the notorious Beckett. Without a moment's thought, I made up my mind and pulled Elena to my side. Only later did I learn that Beckett had drugged her.

I meant to take her to the hospital, but she kissed me again, just as she had the first time. There was no question about it—once more I was lost in Elena's sweet kiss. That kiss awakened a longing I had buried in my heart for years.

By dawn, watching Elena asleep beside me, my reason left me deeply ashamed. At the same time, my love for her had become impossible to contain. This time, I did not want to lose her again. Money, fame, status—whatever it took, so long as she would stay by my side.

But she refused me. In her eyes, it seemed, none of that could buy her marriage or her love. I was crushed, and dark impulses even stirred in me. Yet I knew that winning Elena's heart could not be rushed. To earn her love, I would slow my pace. This love, arriving so late, I cherished all the more.

"Elias, this sounds like some elaborate game. We know nothing about this new wife of yours—her family, her character. Nothing. It's a risk!"

Her words sent an unpleasant tremor through me, and I had no wish to keep arguing with her. She had already made me miss the last flight; now I would have to catch the earliest one back tomorrow.

"Enough, Mother. I won't allow anyone to interfere in my marriage. If you insist on getting involved, then arrange our wedding as soon as possible."

With that, I went upstairs to my own room.

Going called. "Elias, I've finished looking into Elena's situation. It seems she hasn't had an easy time of it these past years. Not only is she saddled with her mother's enormous debts, she's also being hounded by the creditors!"

I froze for a moment. This was entirely beyond anything I had imagined. To think that the girl whose smile had once bloomed like a flower was now being treated this way—it made my blood boil.

Going went on. "Just tonight, a debt-collection agency showed up at her apartment to strong-arm her into paying. They even threatened to make Elena repay by shooting adult films."

My fingers clenched tight around the phone, the fury inside me almost unbearable. That they should treat my beloved girl this way. And yet—why wouldn't Elena accept my offer? A predatory outfit like that debt-collection agency—the Jefferson family need only lift a finger to make them vanish from American soil.

"Elias, do you want me to handle it?" Going's tone remained utterly flat. To him, of course, such a matter was hardly worth mentioning.

I considered it for a moment, and a rather unseemly idea took shape in the back of my mind. Perhaps if I pressed Elena a little harder, she would agree to become my wife? I admit it was hardly honorable, but I could wait no longer. I had to keep her by my side.

"Going, have them go to the law firm tomorrow to collect. Keep it measured—don't frighten my girl!"

Going was silent for two seconds. "Understood, sir. I think this ploy will do the trick."

I gave a dry chuckle. Going truly was a good friend—not only did he keep the company running like clockwork, he could read my very thoughts.

The next day I took the earliest flight back to New York. When I landed, I didn't go home; instead I headed straight for the Big Law offices. Going's efficiency was flawless as ever. Outside the firm's building, the handful of thugs had already been waiting a good while. My feelings were torn—part of me feared Elena would be at a loss, and part of me feared she would remain unmoved. But things had come this far; all I could do was try.

I lay in wait around the corner of the stairwell, running through the possible moves Elena might make next. Sure enough, just as I had predicted, Elena rushed into the stairwell and climbed the stairs with cautious steps. I followed quietly and saw her cry out in anguish and rage before burying her face against her knees in despair.

I could bear the torment no longer. I was gripped by an overwhelming urge to pull her into my arms.

"Elena, are you all right?" I asked softly, stepping up to her.

Her body went rigid. She lifted her head nervously, and shock filled her voice. "Mr. Elias—why are you here?"

I hesitated. Perhaps I had been too hasty; I hadn't given the slightest thought to how I would explain my presence. But that hardly mattered.

I didn't answer her question. Instead I came straight to the point.

"Elena, if you're willing to marry me, I'll take care of everything for you."

She froze, and the tears in her eyes tugged at my heart. Marry me, I chanted silently. Say yes. Say yes.

But still Elena shook her head. "Elias, you don't know me. I'll drag down your whole life…"

And she buried her face and wept again.

I crouched down before her and told her with all the tenderness I could summon, "Elena, you won't drag down my life. Think of it as a deal between us—you help me escape an arranged marriage, and I'll take care of your troubles. All right? Your life shouldn't be cut short like this. You need a chance to turn things around. So, Elena—please don't refuse me?"

Elena seemed to take it in. Those tear-filled eyes were torn between competing impulses. The seconds flickered past in my mind; to me, they stretched on endlessly.

I don't know how long it lasted, but at last she nodded.

"All right. I'll marry you."