Elara woke with a jolt.
Her eyes snapped open, heart racing.
The ceiling above her was unfamiliar—smooth, pale, and high.
The sheets beneath her were soft. Too soft.
She sat up quickly, breath catching.
Where was she?
Then it came back—like a flood.
The alley.
The chase.
The man who helped her.
The accidental kiss.
The seal.
She glanced toward the glass wall across the room.
Morning light spilled through it, casting golden streaks across the floor. The city skyline shimmered beyond it—distant, quiet, surreal.
She was in a penthouse.
In a stranger’s bed.
Safe… or was she?
Her fingers brushed her collarbone. The seal was still there—faint, but present.
She remembered his face.
Aurelien Vale.
The actor who vanished four years ago.
And now he’d carried her here.
Elara’s thoughts spun, but a soft knock on the door pulled her back.
She stiffened.
The door opened slowly, and a tall man stepped inside.
Sharp suit. Serious face.
His gaze scanned her—not rudely, but like he was studying her.
It made her uncomfortable.
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“Good morning,” the man said, voice calm but clipped. “I’m Riven Lau. Assistant Lucas Caelum Draeven.”
Elara blinked.
Lucas Caelum Draeven.
The name hit her like a wave.
She’d seen this man before—on red carpets, behind Lucas during interviews.
He was the manager back then.
Now he was here.
Riven gestured toward the couch near the bed.
“I’ve prepared clothes for you. Something comfortable. Easy to move in.”
Elara followed his gesture.
Folded neatly on the couch was a soft set of clothes—a loose cream tunic, stretchable drawstring pants, and a lightweight shawl. Breathable fabric. Easy to slip on. Gentle against skin.
Perfect for tending to the scratches she’d gotten while fleeing.
Riven continued.
“There’s food prepared as well. If you’re ready, you can join us in the dining area. Just down the hall.”
Elara nodded slowly, still unsure what to say.
Riven gave a polite nod, then stepped back.
“Take your time.”
He closed the door behind him.
No explanation of where Lucas was.
No answers.
Just silence.
Elara exhaled and slid off the bed. Her legs were sore, but steady.
She walked to the couch, picked up the clothes, and ran her fingers over the fabric.
Soft. Clean.
Safe.
She didn’t know what waited beyond the door.
But for now, she could breathe.
She stepped into the shower, letting the water rinse away the grime and panic. The clothes laid out for her were soft and simple—cream tunic, drawstring pants, a shawl she draped over her shoulders. Comfortable. Easy to move in. Gentle on her wounds.
As she opened the bedroom door, she paused.
The hallway was spacious, lined with abstract art and polished wood. Everything whispered wealth—quiet, curated, untouchable.
Then a voice called gently.
“Miss Elara.”
She froze.
He knows my name.
Her heart skipped.
She hadn’t told anyone. Not him. Not Lucas.
Not out loud.
She turned.
Riven Lau stood a few feet away, hands clasped behind his back, expression unreadable.
“Breakfast is ready. This way.”
She followed him, legs moving before her mind could catch up.
The dining hall opened like a scene from a dream—floor-to-ceiling windows, a long marble table, and at the far end, a man seated in quiet focus.
Lucas Caelum Draeven.
Her breath caught.
The same face she’d watched on screen four years ago.
The actor who vanished without a word.
Still the same—but time had carved maturity into his features.
Sharper jaw. Broader shoulders.
A quiet gravity that pulled her in.
Something in her chest jumped.
She didn’t know why.
Only that she’d missed seeing that face more than she realized.
Lucas looked up, eyes meeting hers.
Still unreadable. Still magnetic.
A soft cough broke the silence.
Riven.
Elara blinked, realizing she’d been staring.
Lucas motioned to the seat across from him.
“Sit. Eat first. Someone will come to tend your wounds. Then we’ll talk.”
His voice was calm.
Detached.
But not cold.
Elara nodded and sat down.
Lucas didn’t say anything more.
He simply returned to his plate, eating with quiet precision—like he was used to silence, like he preferred it.
And Elara, still unsure what this morning meant, reached for the glass of water in front of her.
After breakfast, a quiet knock summoned Elara to the guest room. A private doctor entered—efficient, silent, and respectful. He cleaned and dressed the scratches along her arms and legs, murmuring instructions she barely heard. Her mind was elsewhere.
Later, Riven guided her down the hall again.
This time, to a room with darker walls and colder air.
The office.
Lucas sat behind a sleek black desk, a laptop open in front of him.
Riven stood beside him, holding a folder thick with documents.
Elara sat across from them, spine straight, hands folded in her lap.
It felt like a job interview.
Or worse—like she’d been called into the CEO’s office for something she didn’t know she’d done.
Lucas didn’t speak.
He just watched her, unreadable.
Riven cleared his throat and opened the folder.
“To confirm,” he said, voice calm but firm, “are you Elara Solenne Velmira?”
Elara blinked.
“No,” she said quietly. “It’s Elara Solenne Mariselle.”
Riven paused, then nodded.
“Your mother’s name is Celestina Mariselle. Your maternal grandparents—Isolde and Clemente Mariselle?”
Elara nodded slowly.
Riven continued.
“Then Cassian Velmira is your father.”
Elara froze.
“What?”
Riven didn’t flinch.
“You’re his daughter. Illegitimate, yes—but still his. The Velmira elders disapproved of your parents’ relationship. Your mother was never accepted.”
Elara sat frozen.
Her grandparents had never told her this.
They’d only said—over the phone, before she left for China—that her father was alive.
That he’d abandoned them because they were poor.
Riven closed the folder.
“You’re the only girl born to Cassian Velmira. That makes you the heir to the seal. It was activated because of that.”
Elara’s fingers curled into her lap.
Heir?
Seal?
None of this was supposed to be real.
Lucas leaned forward slightly. Finally spoke
“Why were you hiding from your father’s men?”
Elara looked up, startled.
His voice was calm, but there was something beneath it—curiosity, maybe. Or suspicion.
She swallowed.
“I didn’t know they were his men. I thought they were traffickers. Or worse.”
She hesitated, fingers curling into her lap.
“I didn’t know they were his men,” she said softly. “I thought they were traffickers. Or worse.”
Her voice trembled slightly, but her gaze didn’t waver.
“Or maybe… maybe they were connected to something my father owes. I’ve never met him. My grandparents told me he’s dangerous. That I should never let anyone from his side find me.”
She paused, swallowing the knot in her throat.
“They said he abandoned us because we were poor. That he left my mother and never looked back.”
Her eyes flicked to Lucas, then to Riven, then back to the seal on her collarbone.
“I didn’t know I was being hunted for a seal. I didn’t even know I had one.”
The room fell quiet.
Lucas studied her carefully.
And in that moment, the honesty in her eyes—wide, uncertain, quietly defiant—was unmistakable.
She wasn’t lying.
She wasn’t scheming.
She was just a girl who’d been thrown into a legacy she never asked for.