My Tyrant Husband Blackmailed Me To Stay

During lunch, Elaina sat between Linda and Grant.

Linda asked about London, her performances, and Adrian’s treatment. Elaina answered politely, but her attention repeatedly drifted toward her father across the room. He looked thinner than he had a month earlier, though he laughed easily with his oldest friends.

“He shouldn’t be standing for so long,” Elaina murmured.

“He looks happy,” Linda said. “Let him enjoy today.”

Grant placed a slim folder beside Elaina’s plate. “I spoke with a research hospital in Boston. They’re reviewing your father’s records for a clinical trial.”

Elaina turned to him in surprise. “You did that?”

“I asked his permission first.”

Emotion tightened her throat. “Thank you.”

“I haven’t cured him,” Grant said. “Don’t thank me yet.”

An assistant brought over a jewelry box. Inside lay a diamond bracelet, elegant rather than ostentatious.

“For your birthday,” Grant said.

“My birthday was three months ago.”

“I was in Tokyo.”

“You sent flowers.”

“They died.”

“That is what flowers do.”

He almost smiled. “The bracelet should last longer.”

He fastened it around her wrist. Elaina felt every eye at the table shift toward them, and warmth rose to her face.

Later, when Alaskan king crab was served, Elaina prepared a portion for Linda. When she turned back, she found that Grant had done the same for her.

The gesture was small, but it moved her more than the bracelet.

She imagined breakfasts in Geneva, evenings after concerts, and letters no longer separated by oceans. She imagined marriage as a quieter version of this table: mutual care, familiar teasing, and respect.

After the meal, the older guests gathered around Linda. Elaina remained nearby until Linda touched her arm.

“Grant is outside with Archie,” she said. “Go rescue him from another cigarette before your mother notices.”

Elaina smiled. “I’ll try.”

Rain had begun to fall. She took an umbrella and crossed the lawn toward the covered veranda behind the west wing.

Halfway there, she heard Grant’s voice.

She stopped before he could see her.

Archie laughed. “Your fiancée is terrifyingly perfect.”

Grant exhaled smoke. “Perfect people are usually exhausting.”

“You’re marrying her anyway.”

“My mother chose well. Elaina is educated, discreet, and unlikely to create scandals.”

“That sounds like a job description.”

“It is.”

Archie lowered his voice. “You must care about her at least a little.”

Grant gave a short laugh.

Elaina’s fingers tightened around the umbrella handle.

“A little?” Grant said. “She spent years believing every ridiculous story I told her. At fifteen, she ate those sour cherries because she was too polite to admit they were awful. She fell twice and still defended me when her brother became suspicious.”

“You did trip her on the hike?”

“I moved my foot. I didn’t expect her to go down that hard.”

“And the skate?”

“I loosened the outer strap. The equipment should still have held. That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Archie stared at him. “You could have seriously hurt her.”

“She wasn’t seriously hurt.”

“That is not the point.”

Grant’s tone turned impatient. “It was years ago. She was so composed that I wanted to see whether anything could unsettle her.”

“And now?”

“Now her father is ill and both families want the wedding settled. The Reyes family needs stability. We need a suitable alliance. Everyone gets what they want.”

Archie glanced toward the windows. “Does Elaina?”

Grant was silent for a moment.

“She’ll have everything she could possibly need.”

Under the rain, Elaina felt something inside her quietly break.