Chapter Nineteen: The Dance He Didn't Plan
They were back inside before anyone noticed they'd been gone.
But something had shifted.
Not in the room.
In them.
Elena walked ahead slightly, eyes scanning the crowd—not out of fear, but calculation. She knew now: everyone was watching. Waiting. Judging.
Aiden followed. Silent. Close. He hadn't touched her since the terrace, but she still felt the weight of his presence like static before a storm.
The music changed.
Strings swelled. the light dimmed softly and the first dance began.
A formal tradition like it happens in every charity,every gala,every fundraiser,a tradition
Couples were already pairing off.
Aiden stood still.
So did Elena.
She assumed—wrongly—he'd skip it.
He didn't.
He turned to her. No warning. No request. Just a low, steady voice:
"Dance with me."
It wasn't a command.
It was something rarer. A choice.
Her mouth parted slightly. Surprise flickered across her face—but only for a second.
Then she nodded. "Alright."
---
The room parted for them. It always did.
But this time, it felt different.
Aiden took her hand. Rested the other lightly against her back.It wasn't possessive or fake,it was just natural it was—
Just there.
Elena moved with him in time, the steps coming easy. She hadn't danced in years—not like this—but the rhythm returned, slow and steady.
So did the heat,it increased and she knew it wasn't from the room
Not from the room.
But from the way he watched her,from the way he held her,Like he finally saw the woman behind the quiet.
"You don't do this often," she said to make conversation in hope to reduce the tension burning between them.
"No." he said never taking his eyes off her as he spoke and spun her around.
"Then why now?"
A pause.
"Because they expect me to keep you on my arm," he said. "But I wanted you in my arms."
Her chest tightened.
It wasn't flowery. It wasn't romantic.
But it was real.
And it cracked something open in her she didn't want to name yet.
They kept moving.
The music shifted, but they didn't stop.
People were watching. Whispers circled. Someone even took a photo—flash off, but obvious.
Elena didn't care.
Aiden didn't either.
His hand shifted slightly. Fingers against her spine.
Her breath hitched—but she didn't pull away.
If anything, she leaned in.
His voice came low, right against her ear. "You were never meant to be in her shadow." he whispered and it sent surprising shivers down her spine.
"I know," she whispered breathlessly,not from the dance but from the feelings rising inside of her.
And she did.
Now. Oh she knew!!!!
---
Later, much later, after the applause and the fake smiles and the quiet envy from across the ballroom, they left together.
The car was quiet again. But not empty.
The tension had changed.
Not the sharp-edged one from weeks ago.
This was warmer. Heavier.
Charged.
Back at the penthouse, she walked in first. Stopped by the window without turning on the lights.
The skyline glittered. Cold and endless.
Aiden stood behind her.
She didn't move. Didn't say anything.
And neither did he.
For once, silence wasn't a wall between them.
It was a bridge.
Finally, she spoke.
"You meant it."she said but it came out like a question.
He didn't ask what.
"You wanted me there. With you." she spoke again
He nodded once. "I still do." his voice came out low and slightly husky.
Her heart beat harder,and tiny bumps came allover her flesh
"You don't know how to want things without trying to own them," she said quietly.
Aiden stepped closer. "I'm learning."
She turned then. Looked him dead in the eyes.
"I'm not Isabella," she said.
"I know."
"I'm not a trophy."she tried again,maybe to get a reaction out of him,but he didn't back down and his turn was low as soft as a feather.
"You never were."
"And I don't owe you anything just because you've started to feel something."
His expression didn't shift.
But his voice dropped.
"I don't want what you owe," he said. "I want what you give."
The words stopped her. Her heart no longer beating slow and steady,sped up a notch
He reached out slowly. Brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.
It was the lightest touch he'd ever given her.
But it was also the most intimate.
And when he dropped his hand, she missed it more than she wanted to admit.
---
She didn't sleep for a long time that night.
Neither did he.
But neither of them knocked on the other's door.
Not yet.
They weren't ready to burn the space between them.
But it was warming.
And the next time they touched, it wouldn't be because of expectation.
It would be because neither of them could stop it.