Elena stepped closer, and a heavy tension settled in the air. "You put something in my drink that night."

"What are you even saying? I have no idea."

Hazel's eyes flicked to the faint marks near Elena's collar. A quiet sense of satisfaction crept in. She assumed the man she arranged had already done what she intended.

Knowing Hazel would never admit it easily, Elena took out her phone, opened her gallery, and turned the screen toward Hazel.

"This account belongs to you. And this is the purchase record. Are you still going to deny it?"

A trace of unease crossed Hazel's face. She had deleted everything, yet the records were back.

"I've never seen that before. I didn't buy anything like that. You're just trying to pin this on me."

Elena slid to the next image. It showed Hazel receiving the package, her face clear, with the delivery details matching the order.

"What's your excuse now?"

The color drained from Hazel's face before shifting again. She let out a sharp breath and dropped the act. "Yes, I did it. I can't stand you, and I drugged your drink. You think I don't know you got into Epoch Tech? Why should you fail at marrying into money, then turn around and take my internship at Epoch? Why do you get everything?"

In her mind, that position had always been hers.

A cold smile tugged at Elena's lips. "If you didn't get into Epoch, that's on you. Don't blame me for it."

Hazel responded, refusing to accept that, "Maybe I can't beat you when it comes to playing with men."

Her expression twisted with contempt as she added, "So what if you have all that? Are you really going to report me? Once this gets out, the school's reputation takes a hit too. Do you think they'll protect you? Elena, we're both nobodies. In Bramville, people like us don't matter. Take my advice and don't push this. Your plan to marry rich has already fallen apart. If you keep going, you'll destroy your own name again. You might even get kicked out of the university."

Buying that kind of drug was illegal. Hazel knew that.

But Elena hadn't taken it to the school yet—and there was a reason. The school's reputation was on the line. So was Elena's.

That was exactly why Hazel felt no fear. She was certain Elena wouldn't dare take this to the school directly.

Elena's voice stayed calm. "Someone like you isn't worth dragging the university's name down. I've already sent everything to the president anonymously. He'll take care of it. Getting you expelled shouldn't be difficult."

Elena raised her phone as she spoke. The screen clearly showed the message had gone through.

The moment it sank in, panic took over Hazel's face. "Have you lost your mind?" She rushed forward, reaching for the phone.

Elena reacted instantly. She grabbed her and shoved her away.

Hazel crashed onto the ground. A sharp cry slipped out. Her ankle twisted badly, though the pain barely registered. She had worked too hard to get into this university. She hadn't even graduated yet. If she got expelled now, everything would fall apart.

Hatred filled her eyes as she stared up at Elena. "If I'm thrown out, I'll drag you down with me. Your scandal's already all over campus. You want another one? If that happens, forget about marrying into money."

A chill settled in Elena's gaze. She stepped forward and pressed her foot down on Hazel's leg.

Hazel screamed. It felt like her bone would break.

Elena tapped her phone again. A recording began to play, and Hazel's own voice echoed out.

"Yes, I did it. I can't stand you, and I drugged your drink."

As the words filled the air, Elena looked down at her. "Seems like expulsion isn't enough for you. You want to end up in prison too."

Shock overtook Hazel's face. For a moment, she forgot the pain entirely.

She had never expected Elena to recover everything, let alone trap her into admitting it.

Her teeth clenched before her tone shifted. "Elena, I'm sorry. I messed up. I just lost my head for a moment. I can't leave school. We've been roommates for three years. Please let this go. Take the email back. I'm begging you. I can't get expelled."

Elena didn't soften. "If saying sorry fixed things, laws wouldn't exist. You made your choice. Now you face it."

Frustration broke through Hazel's fear. "So what? Some punk slept with you. It's not a big deal. You walked away just fine. And over something like that, you're going to destroy my entire future?"

"Some punk?"

Elena's fingers curled tight, and the chill in her eyes deepened.

So the man outside the private room, the one she had knocked down, had been sent by Hazel.

The color drained from Hazel's face when she saw that reaction. She knew exactly what Elena was capable of. If Elena chose to hit her, she wouldn't hold back. That was why she had relied on drugs in the first place. Otherwise, there was no way that kind of man could have controlled her.

Right then, Elena's phone lit up with Henry's name.

She ignored the call and looked down at Hazel. "Pack your things and leave this university. Don't let me see you again."

After a brief pause, she added, "And that man you hired? He's probably lying in a hospital bed right now."

Without another word, she turned and walked away, picking up the call as she moved.

Hazel stayed where she had fallen, her face pale, her eyes fixed on Elena's back, filled with resentment.

What did that mean? Had that man failed? But Elena hadn't returned that night, and the marks on her neck had been obvious.

In the parking lot, Henry waited alone. There was no driver this time. The moment he saw Elena, he stepped out of the Maybach and opened the passenger door himself.

Elena gave a quiet thanks and got inside.

Henry took his seat behind the wheel and glanced at her. "Put your seat belt on."

Elena pulled it across and secured it. "Where are we going?"

For a marriage that existed only in name, they weren't actually heading to register it right away, were they?

His hands rested on the steering wheel. After a short pause, he answered, "Our home."

Elena understood right away. Even if it was only for show, it still had to look real.

A brief pause passed before she spoke. "We can stay in the same house, but we're not sharing a room."

Henry shot her a sideways look. "You don't need to worry about that. I have no interest. If anything, you should stop drinking whatever's handed to you and walking into a stranger's room."

Elena turned her gaze toward the window and stayed silent.

Not long after, the car rolled into Hartwell Mansion, set within one of the city's most exclusive neighborhoods.

The grounds were carefully designed, with water features and landscaping that stood out even among the city's best.

The vehicle passed through the gates of the mansion.

They stepped out from opposite sides, and Ashton approached without delay.

Together, they walked through the garden, passed the pool, and entered the main sitting room.

On the coffee table were a marriage certificate and a prenuptial agreement. Both in duplicate.

Ashton started, "Everything has been prepared."

Henry gave a slight nod and picked up the certificate, glancing over it.

Elena leaned in for a look. It appeared completely legitimate.

Henry then turned to her and handed over the prenup. "Go through it. If you don't see any issues, sign it."

The document was thick. Elena didn't bother flipping through it. She signed her name without reading a single page.

To her, this marriage was nothing but a sham. The contents didn't matter.

Henry watched her for a moment before settling back against the sofa, saying nothing.

After putting the pen down, Elena's eyes shifted toward a painting on the wall.

Ashton noticed right away. "Do you like that piece, Miss Harvey? It's by Drift. Mr. Watson values that artist highly. Drift is also the only student of the famous painter Joseph Dawson."

In Ashton's mind, since they were bound by a fake marriage, Elena had to learn Henry's habits and preferences. Otherwise, she might make a mistake in front of the Watson family.

Elena pulled her attention away from the canvas. "I'm aware. I'm quite taken with Joseph Dawson's pieces as well."

"You're familiar with painting?" Henry asked, a note of surprise slipping into his voice.

"Just a bit."

Considering her upbringing, Henry found it easy enough to grasp why her experience was limited.

"Would you like to continue studying?" he asked.

Elena turned to him, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. "What?"

"If you're interested, I can arrange for a qualified instructor," Henry said. "Think of it as a gesture in exchange for your cooperation."

For a fleeting second, Elena caught herself wondering if he might not be as merciless as rumor painted him.

She offered a slight smile. "I appreciate it, but there's no need. I already have someone teaching me. I won't be taking lessons from anyone else."

Ashton's brows drew together faintly. He looked ready to point out that whoever she was currently learning from couldn't possibly measure up to the kind of expert his boss could provide, but Henry cut in first. "Forget it."

Ashton promptly bit back his words.

Elena raised her gaze, letting it sweep across the room before settling on Henry again. "Which room is mine?"

"Third floor. Once you step out of the elevator, it's the second door on the right."

The living room stretched upward into the higher levels. Elena cast a glance toward the upper floor, and Henry added, "The room beside it is yours as well, if you'd like to turn it into a study or a studio."

"And your room?"

"Left side. Last door."

"You're staying on the third floor too?" Elena had assumed they'd be on separate levels.

Henry gave a short nod. "Yes."

"Go have a look," he said, rising from his seat.

Elena went up after him.

The instant they stepped out of the elevator, she took note of the layout. Their rooms were positioned on opposite sides—comfortably distant. That suited her just fine.

Then Henry turned to her and said, "What happened that night was an accident. Don't come into my room again. Next time, you might not get away so easily."

The warning in his voice was unmistakable, revealing the controlling edge beneath his refined facade.

Elena paused, saying nothing for a moment. So he truly believed she had been drawn to his appearance?

"Don't worry," she replied evenly. "From where I stand, it wasn't worth a second time either."

His expression darkened at once. That felt like a small victory on her side. A trace of amusement shimmered in her eyes as she turned and headed toward her room.

She had scarcely moved an inch when fingers clamped firmly around her arm. She turned sharply. "What do you think you're doing?"

Without a word of warning, Henry hauled her back and pressed her against him, his arm tightening like a restraint. His gaze locked onto hers. "Was it really that unbearable? Did I hurt you?"

Elena remained silent.

"You only have yourself to blame," Henry continued.

A flush flickered across her face before fading. "Let go. Don't force me to make you."

Henry looked utterly unbothered. "Then try and get out of it."

A sharp glint ignited in her eyes. She didn't pause for even a second. Her fist drove straight toward his face.

Henry moved far quicker than she had anticipated. In one fluid motion, he dodged and seized her wrist. His grip was ironclad, leaving her no chance to pull free.

She stared at him, startled. "What are you—"

A spoiled heir who could actually fight? And not just that—strong enough to keep her pinned?

Over the years, Elena had crossed paths with many capable fighters, but never someone who could genuinely stand on equal ground with her.

Interesting.

She was still caught against Henry, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Their gazes remained locked. Something tense and unfamiliar stirred in the quiet between them.

"Are you planning to keep me like this?"

Henry's eyes darkened. A moment later, he released her.

Elena immediately stepped away, putting space between them.

"I'll be in the study," he said. "If you need anything, ask Ashton."

"Understood."

They turned from one another and walked off in opposite directions.

Elena pushed her bedroom door open and stepped inside. The space was large and welcoming, clearly arranged with deliberate care. Deeper in, a broad balcony extended from the room, set with a small table and chairs. From there, she could look out over a pristine pool and a beautifully kept garden.

A soft breeze drifted in, carrying the faint fragrance of flowers.

Gradually, the unfamiliar surroundings began to ease her mind. It even stirred the urge to paint. She preferred working in solitude, wrapped in silence, with nothing but her own thoughts for company.

But if she began painting here, there was a real chance Henry would uncover her identity.

Better not.

Time passed quietly as Elena sat alone on the balcony. She stayed there until a knock sounded at the door.

She rose and opened it.

Ashton offered a courteous smile. "It's time to arrange dinner. What would you like to have, Mrs. Watson? I'll inform the kitchen."

Elena hesitated. The title struck her like a jolt. It felt unfamiliar, excessive, and she was nowhere close to getting used to it.

"Ashton, Henry and I are only married in name. There's no need to address me like that in private. Just call me Elena."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Mrs. Watson. It's best you grow accustomed to it." He added, "Besides, those were Mr. Watson's instructions. I wouldn't dare go against them."

Elena regarded him. "I'm beginning to think your boss isn't as cold or frightening as people claim."

"That's only because you haven't seen—" Ashton cut himself off mid-sentence, then forced a dry laugh. "What I mean is, it varies from person to person. He clearly wouldn't treat you the way he treats others."

Elena didn't respond. The ease with which Ashton addressed her as "Mrs. Watson" made it clear he had already grown entirely accustomed to it.

"What would you like for dinner?" he asked again.

After a brief pause, Elena replied, "You should ask your boss. I'm fine with anything."

"Mr. Watson is the one who instructed me to ask you."

Elena went quiet for a moment. "Then anything will do."

After considering it for a second, Ashton gave a small nod. "Understood. I'll have the kitchen prepare something.

Two hours later, Elena and Henry sat across from each other in the dining room.

They ate without speaking, the silence stretching between them. They looked exactly as they were—two near-strangers sharing a meal.

After only a few bites, Elena set her utensils down. "I'm finished. I'm going upstairs."

Henry's gaze lifted to her. "You don't like the food?"

"It's fine. I'm just not very hungry."

A short silence followed before Henry said, "You're already slim enough. There's no need to diet."

"I'm not dieting."

She had always eaten sparingly.

"Then eat a bit more." His eyes rested on her, his tone firm and leaving no room for refusal. "You're not leaving yet."

If it had been anyone else speaking to her like that, Elena would never have tolerated it. But this time, she said nothing. Instead, a voice rose unbidden in her mind—soft, yet steady.

"Lena, sit down. Eat a little more. You barely eat anything. Be a good girl."

Her father. A voice she would never hear again for the rest of her life.

Elena remained seated. She picked up her utensils once more, her delicate features composed, though something quiet and aching lingered deep within her eyes.

Her gaze stayed lowered, and Henry failed to notice what she kept hidden there. Seeing that she had resumed eating, he said nothing further.

After a while, Elena lifted her head again, her expression already calm. "You suddenly got married. Your family won't object?"

Families like his usually demanded a suitable match.

Henry replied evenly, "They won't. What I decide is final in this family."

The only exception was his grandfather. But the old man had never cared much for status or background. All he had ever wanted was for his grandson to choose someone he truly wished to keep by his side.