Elara woke up to the smell of lemon polish and old wood.
For a terrifying second, she didn't know where she was. Then, she opened her eyes and recognized the high, hand-painted ceilings of her childhood bedroom in the Vance estate.
She sat up. The heavy, suffocating weight that had pressed down on her chest for the last three years was gone. Julian was sitting in a jail cell. Chloe was being interrogated. Her mother's house was safe.
But the bed beside her was empty.
Elara slipped out of the covers and walked toward the slightly ajar balcony doors. The morning air was crisp. Standing by the stone railing, fully dressed in a sharp slate-gray suit, was Alexander. He was on the phone, his voice a low, lethal murmur that sent a shiver down her spine.
"I don't care if he's my brother," Alexander said into the receiver, his tone devoid of any familial warmth. "If Arthur tries to post bail for Julian, I will personally see to it that his entire investment portfolio is liquidated by noon. Do you understand, Liam?"
Alexander paused, listening to the response. His jaw tightened.
"Let the old man call a tribunal," Alexander finally sneered. "If he wants to meet my wife, he can do it on my terms. Tell security to prep the motorcade."
He hung up, slipping the phone into his jacket pocket. When he turned around, the icy fury in his eyes softened just a fraction as his gaze landed on Elara.
"How much of that did you hear?" he asked, walking back into the bedroom.
"Enough to know your honeymoon patience has officially run out," Elara said, crossing her arms to ward off the morning chill. "Who is Arthur?"
"Julian's father. My older brother," Alexander replied, stopping right in front of her. He reached out, his knuckles brushing her cheek. "And the 'old man' is Elias Cross. My grandfather. The supreme patriarch of the family."
Elara's stomach did a nervous flip. The Cross family wasn't just wealthy; they were old money. They were a sprawling, deeply traditional dynasty that controlled politicians, judges, and entire industries. And they despised scandal.
"He heard about the arrest," Elara guessed. "And the marriage."
"He heard everything," Alexander confirmed, his thumb tracing her lower lip. "Julian was supposed to be the golden child who married the Vance heiress to quietly merge our assets. Instead, you sent his favorite great-grandson to prison and married the black sheep of the family. Elias has summoned the entire extended family to the main manor this morning to formally demand I annul the marriage."
In her past life, the mere thought of facing the Cross family elders would have sent Elara into a panic attack. They were ruthless, judgmental people who could destroy a reputation with a single whisper.
But Elara wasn't that naive girl anymore. She looked up into Alexander's dark, unwavering eyes. He wasn't asking her to hide. He was asking if she was ready for a war.
"Give me twenty minutes to get dressed," Elara said smoothly.
Alexander's lips curled into a slow, breathtaking smirk. "Wear black, Mrs. Cross. We have a funeral to attend."
The Cross Manor didn't look like a home. It looked like a medieval fortress.
Situated on three hundred acres of private, heavily wooded land just outside the city limits, the estate was surrounded by wrought-iron gates and patrolled by armed guards. As the Maybach pulled up the mile-long driveway, Elara could see dozens of luxury cars already parked out front.
The vultures had gathered.
Alexander stepped out of the car first, buttoning his suit jacket. He didn't wait for the valet. He opened Elara's door himself, offering his hand.
Elara stepped out. She had taken his advice. She was wearing a sleek, tailored black dress that fell just below her knees, paired with stiletto heels and the massive diamond signet ring he had given her. Her hair was pulled back into a sharp, severe twist. She looked completely untouchable.
Alexander tucked her hand securely into the crook of his arm. "Do not speak unless spoken to. Do not lower your eyes. And if anyone raises their voice at you..."
"You'll throw them out a window?" Elara teased softly, though her heart was pounding.
"No," Alexander murmured, his voice deadly serious. "I'll throw them off the roof."
The heavy oak doors of the manor were opened by silent butlers. Alexander led Elara straight through the grand foyer and into the main drawing-room.
The room was massive, lined with dark mahogany bookshelves and an imposing stone fireplace. Over thirty members of the Cross family were gathered inside. The chatter died instantly the moment Alexander stepped over the threshold.
Every single pair of eyes snapped to Elara. She could feel the waves of judgment, disgust, and shock rolling off them.
Sitting in a high-backed leather chair by the fireplace, leaning heavily on a gold-headed cane, was Elias Cross. The eighty-year-old patriarch looked frail, but his eyes were sharp, calculating, and entirely devoid of mercy. Standing to his right was Arthur, Julian's father, whose face was purple with suppressed rage.
"Alexander," Elias rasped, his voice echoing in the dead-silent room. He didn't even look at Elara. "You have exactly three minutes to explain why my great-grandson is sitting in a county jail cell, and why the press is claiming you have wed a used, unstable woman."
Arthur stepped forward, pointing a shaking finger at Elara. "She set him up! Julian is a good boy! This little tramp seduced him, stole his shares, and then manipulated my brother into—"
Arthur didn't get to finish.
Alexander let go of Elara's arm. He crossed the room in three massive, terrifying strides. Before Arthur could even blink, Alexander grabbed his older brother by the throat and slammed him backward against the heavy oak bookshelves.
Books tumbled to the floor with a crash. Several women in the room shrieked, scrambling backward.
"Alexander! Stop!" Elias barked, slamming his cane against the floor.
Alexander didn't let go. He leaned in, his face inches from his brother's terrified, gasping expression. The sheer, unadulterated violence radiating from Alexander made the air in the room feel thick and suffocating.
"I warned you on the phone, Arthur," Alexander whispered, his voice echoing clearly in the stunned silence. "If you ever disrespected my wife, I would ruin you. You just cost yourself your entire portfolio."
He released his grip, letting his brother slide to the floor, gasping and clutching his neck.
Alexander calmly adjusted his cuffs and turned back to face his grandfather. He didn't look like a grandson seeking approval. He looked like an emperor who had just conquered a new territory.
"Julian committed forgery. He is going to prison, and if you try to buy his way out, I will hand his full financial records over to the feds myself," Alexander stated coldly.
He walked back to Elara's side, wrapping his arm possessively around her waist and pulling her flush against his side.
"As for my marriage," Alexander continued, his pitch-black eyes sweeping over the terrified room. "Elara is the matriarch of the Vance family, and she is now my wife. Which makes her the highest-ranking woman in this room."
Elias Cross's face tightened into a furious scowl. "You dare bring a scandal into this house and demand we bow to it? She is ruined goods! She slept with your nephew!"
"I never slept with Julian."
Elara's voice cut through the tension like a blade.
Alexander glanced down at her, a flicker of surprise—and intense heat—crossing his features.
Elara stepped slightly forward, out of Alexander's protective shadow. She looked directly into Elias Cross's judgmental eyes. She wasn't going to let Alexander fight her battles alone. If she was going to be the wife of a predator, she needed to show her teeth.
"I funded Julian's company. I elevated his status in this city. But I never let him touch me," Elara lied smoothly, flawlessly playing the role of the untouchable ice queen. She looked at the gasping Arthur on the floor. "He was entirely too weak for my taste."
A shocked gasp rippled through the gathered family.
Elara reached into her designer purse and pulled out a sleek, black folder Liam had handed her in the car. She walked forward and tossed it directly onto the small table next to Elias's chair.
"My mother left behind a twenty percent stake in the Cross Holding Group, acquired decades ago," Elara announced, her voice ringing with absolute authority. "I absorbed it back into my portfolio this morning. Combined with my husband's shares, we now hold a fifty-one percent majority over this entire family."
Elias stared at the folder, his frail hands trembling slightly.
Elara looked back at the crowd of terrified, silent relatives.
"I didn't come here to ask for your blessing," Elara said, her chin held high, a beautiful, cruel smile touching her lips. "I came here to inform you that the Cross family belongs to us now. And anyone who has a problem with that can pack their bags and leave my city."