"You don't have to come," Christian said, adjusting his cufflinks.
Ana stood in the doorway of the walk-in closet, arms folded.
"But you want me to."
He met her eyes in the mirror.
"Yes."
đ The Drive
The black car was quiet.
Christian hadn't touched the radio.
Ana watched himâjaw tense, mouth tight, fingers flexing against the steering wheel like it might betray him.
"She doesn't know about the contract," he said suddenly.
Ana raised a brow. "But she'll know I'm not your type."
His smirk was quick and hollow. "You're exactly her worst fear."
She smiled, just a little. "Perfect."
đŻïž The Blake Estate
Dinner was served at a long mahogany table that probably had a will of its own.
Everything was white, cream, and silence.
Enter Evelyn Blake.
Christian's mother.
Sharp-eyed. Perfumed in something ancient and expensive. Wearing a pearl choker that looked like a leash she put on herself.
"Anastasia," she said, air-kissing Ana's cheek without touching it. "I've heard so much about you."
"Good things, I hope."
Evelyn smiled tightly. "Christian doesn't talk much. He's always been a private boy."
Ana sat down beside him. "Not so private lately."
The table chilled five degrees.
đ· The Tension Game
Halfway through dinner, Evelyn tilted her head.
"Tell me, dear. What is it you do?"
Ana blinked. "I breathe. I exist. I occasionally destroy men who underestimate me."
Christian choked slightly on his wine.
Evelyn didn't flinch.
"Confidence. How modern."
Ana leaned forward, resting her elbows on the polished table.
"Christian told me once you taught him to never show weakness," she said. "Is that why he built a marriage with a safety net?"
Christian stiffened beside her.
Evelyn's eyes flicked to him. "So she knows."
Ana nodded. "I know everything."
"And you're still here?"
Ana smiled. "That's the difference between love and power, Mrs. Blake. Power needs control. Love needs choice."
đ€ After the War
The drive back was silent for a full ten minutes.
Then Christian finally whispered, "She's never liked anyone."
Ana glanced sideways. "Good. I didn't come to be liked."
He looked at her, expression unreadable.
"I came to be loved," she added softly. "And if you can't give me thatâthen I'll be the one who walks away this time."
He didn't say anything.
But he reached across the consoleâŠ
And held her hand the rest of the ride home.
đ Ana's Journal Entry #7
I met his mother tonight.
Evelyn Blake.
A woman carved from frost and money.
She didn't flinch when I spoke.
Didn't smile when I held his hand.
Didn't care that I knew about the contract.
Because she expected me to leave.
She expected me to look at her son the way she doesâ
Like he's a project. A weapon. A brand.
But I didn't.
I looked at him like he was human.
And I think that scared her more.
She trained him to stay in control.
To silence anything soft.
To prepare for loss before love could happen.
And maybe⊠he's still trying to unlearn that.
But tonight, when he reached for my hand in the carâ
He didn't look like a billionaire.
He looked like a boy who never learned how to ask for comfort.
Maybe she protected his name.
But I want to protect his heart.
Even if it breaks mine first.
She folded the journal closed gently.
No tears tonight. Just⊠stillness.
If love was a warâ
Then this was her armor.
And she'd wear it until he was ready to take off his.
To be continuedâŠ