Chapter 5 The Secret Meeting

Elena pov

I stare at Marcus Rivera's business card for the tenth time this morning, my phone sitting on the bed beside me.

I know I shouldn't call, I know it will make everything worse, but I can't breathe in this house anymore.

I need to remember what it feels like to be treated like a person.

It's been three days since the gala, three days since Alexander threatened me, three days since he's come home at all.

I've seen the photos on every gossip site, Alexander with Victoria at some upscale restaurant, Alexander with Simone leaving a nightclub, the tabloids are calling it "Harrington's Hot Week" and I'm supposed to sit here and take it.

Julian asks me every morning at breakfast.

"Where's Daddy?" and I don't know what to tell him anymore.

"Daddy's working baby" sounds hollow even to my own ears, my son is three years old and already learning that his father doesn't come home.

I pick up my phone, stare at the card again, Marcus's number printed in elegant script, his words from the gala echo in my head, you deserve to remember what it feels like to be treated like a person.

I make a decision before I can talk myself out of it.

Is your lunch offer still open?

I hit send and immediately want to take it back.

What am I doing, this is insane, Alexander will find out, he always finds out.

My phone buzzes almost immediately, Absolutely, Café Noir downtown, 1 PM, it's quiet and private, I'm looking forward to it.

My heart races, this is real, I'm really doing this, I check Alexander's schedule on the shared calendar his secretary maintains, back-to-back board meetings until five, he won't even know I'm gone.

I find Mrs. Winters in the kitchen preparing Julian's lunch, "I'm going to the foundation office this afternoon, can you watch Julian?"

She looks up, concern written all over her face, "Mrs. Harrington, be careful, there are cameras everywhere in this house.

Mr. Harrington has been... watching."

My blood runs cold, "What do you mean watching?"

Mrs. Winters glances nervously at the hallway, at a painting I've walked past a thousand times.

"The house was upgraded with security systems last year, I wasn't supposed to know but I overheard him on the phone with his security team.

He told them to monitor your movements, track where you go."

I feel sick, actually sick, "He's spying on me?"

She nods, her hands wringing together, "I'm sorry ma'am, I should have told you sooner, I was afraid to get involved but after the other night, after what he said to you, I can't stay silent anymore."

I straighten my shoulders, refuse to let fear control me.

"Then I'll be extra careful, thank you for telling me Mrs. Winters."

An hour later I'm in a cab heading downtown, I left through the back garden, wore sunglasses and a scarf over my hair, took side streets until I was far enough away to feel safe hailing a taxi, if Alexander is watching I'm not making it easy for him.

Café Noir is exactly what Marcus promised, small, tucked away on a quiet street, mostly students studying and locals reading newspapers, no paparazzi, no society wives, no one who would recognize Elena Harrington.

Marcus is already there, sitting at a corner table, he stands when I walk in and that warm smile spreads across his face like sunlight breaking through clouds.

"I wasn't sure you'd come."

I slide into the seat across from him, pull off my sunglasses,

"I wasn't sure either."

He signals the waitress, orders two coffees, then leans back and just looks at me.

"How are you, Elena? And I want the real answer, not the society wife's answer."

Something in my chest cracks, when was the last time someone asked me that and actually cared about the response.

"I'm tired, so tired of pretending everything's fine when it's not."

"Then don't pretend," Marcus says gently, "not here, not with me."

The coffee arrives and we really talk.

He asks about my foundation and actually listens when I explain our literacy programs.

He asks about my childhood before the fire and I find myself telling him about lazy Sundays with my parents reading in the garden, he asks about my dreams and I hear myself saying things I haven't said out loud in years.

"I wanted to be a teacher before everything fell apart," I admit, stirring my coffee.

"I loved literature, poetry, I wanted to share that with kids who might not otherwise discover it, I wanted to show them that books could be windows into other worlds."

Marcus's eyes light up, "You still can, your foundation is doing exactly that, you're giving children access to books and education they wouldn't have otherwise."

"It's not the same as being in a classroom," I say wistfully, "but it's something, it's the one thing in my life that's actually mine."

"Tell me about it," Marcus leans forward, genuinely interested.

"Tell me about the programs you're running."

So I do, I talk about our mobile libraries that visit underserved neighborhoods, about our reading mentorship program pairing volunteers with struggling readers, about the scholarship fund we're building for kids who want to pursue education beyond high school, and Marcus listens to every word, asks thoughtful questions, offers ideas for expansion.

Two hours disappear like minutes, I've laughed more this afternoon than I have in four years, felt more valued, more seen.

"You deserve happiness Elena," Marcus says quietly, his hand reaching across the table to cover mine.

"Real happiness, not the gilded cage you're living in."

I should pull my hand away, I know I should, but I don't, his touch is warm, gentle, everything Alexander's isn't.

My son," I whisper, "I can't leave him, the contract says...."

"I know what the contract says," Marcus interrupts softly, "Julian comes first, I would never suggest otherwise, but there are ways out of situations that seem impossible, if you ever want help, not just coffee and conversation.

I'm here."

My eyes fill with tears, "Why are you being so kind to me? You barely know me, I'm married to your rival, this could destroy you if anyone found out."

Marcus's thumb traces circles on the back of my hand, "I know enough, and maybe I've been watching you longer than you think.

I've attended your foundation events, stood in the back and watched you interact with those kids, watched the way you light up around them, the way you dim when your husband appears, you deserve someone who sees that light and wants to make it brighter, not someone who tries to extinguish it."

Something shifts in my chest, dangerous and warm and terrifying, "Marcus"

My phone buzzes on the table, Alexander's name flashing on the screen, my heart stops, I grab it, read the text.

Where are you?

"I have to go," I stand so fast my chair scrapes across the floor.

"I'm sorry, I have to go right now."

Marcus stands too, "Elena wait"

"Thank you for lunch," I'm already backing toward the door, "thank you for listening, I haven't felt human in so long but I really have to go."

I practically run out of the café, hail a cab with shaking hands, check my phone again, three more texts from Alexander, all asking where I am, how does he know I'm not at the foundation office, did someone see me, did the cameras catch me leaving.

The cab feels too slow, traffic too heavy, by the time we reach the mansion my hands are trembling so badly I can barely pay the driver.

I walk up the front steps trying to calm my racing heart, trying to think of an excuse, a lie that will work.

I open the door and my world stops, Alexander is standing in the foyer, arms crossed over his chest, still in his suit from this morning, his eyes are dark with rage, darker than I've ever seen them.

"Where were you?" his voice is deadly quiet, the kind of quiet that comes before an explosion.

My mouth goes dry, "The foundation office, I had paperwork to catch up on"

"Don't," he cuts me off, takes a step closer, "don't lie to me. Elena."

"I'm not lying"

Alexander holds up his phone, turns the screen to face me, and my heart stops completely, it's a photo of me and Marcus at the café, sitting across from each other, our hands touching on the table, someone took this, someone was watching us.

"Try again," Alexander's voice is pure ice, "and this time, don't lie to me."