The Reyes family gathered in the sitting room while Elaina held an ice pack against her forehead.

Natalia paced in front of the fireplace. “Two outings, two injuries. At this rate, the third one will require an ambulance.”

“It was an accident,” Elaina said.

Reece leaned forward. “Was it?”

Adrian shot him a look. “Don’t start.”

“I’m serious. The skate fastening failed. Someone should have checked it.”

“The rink manager already apologized,” Adrian said. “Their staff inspected the equipment afterward.”

“And?”

“The leather strap was worn. It should have been replaced.”

Reece was unconvinced. Once their parents left the room, he followed Elaina upstairs and closed the door behind them.

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

“I put the skates on myself. They felt fine at first. Halfway around the rink, my ankle twisted and I fell.”

“Did Grant choose them?”

“No.”

“Did he touch them?”

“I don’t know. He helped tighten one strap, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

Reece studied her face. “And the hike?”

“I stepped backward while talking and caught my heel near his boot.”

“Near his boot, or on his boot?”

Elaina lowered the ice pack. “You think he tripped me?”

“I think he finds things amusing that other people don’t.”

She wanted to dismiss the idea, but the memory of Grant’s brief smile after she fell unsettled her.

“He carried me back down the trail,” she said. “Why would he deliberately make me fall and then carry me for nearly a mile?”

Reece had no answer for that.

The following weekend, the Wheelers hosted a garden luncheon at their temporary residence outside Seattle. There would be no hiking, skating, or horses. Elaina considered that an improvement.

After lunch, Grant suggested showing her the estate’s renovated observation pavilion. Linda, Natalia, and several guests were nearby, and a security officer walked behind them.

The pavilion stood above the lake and included a short glass-floored viewing platform. Elaina did not realize what it was until she stepped through the doors and looked down.

Her breath vanished.

The lake, gardens, and stone terrace seemed to drop away beneath her feet. Her pulse raced, and her knees weakened so quickly that she had to grip the railing.

Grant glanced at her. For one second, she thought she saw amusement in his eyes.

Then his expression changed.

“Elaina?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“I’m afraid of heights.”

He immediately stepped off the glass and held out his hand. “Come back this way.”

“I can do it.”

“You don’t have to prove anything.”

The words surprised her. She closed her eyes and tried to move, but her body refused to cooperate.

Grant lowered his voice. “Don’t look down. Look at me.”

Elaina opened her eyes. His hand remained between them, steady and patient.

She placed her fingers in his.

He guided her back onto the stone floor without pulling or rushing her. Once she was safe, he released her immediately.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know.”

Elaina’s face was pale. “It’s alright.”

“No, it isn’t. I should have asked.”

For the first time, his apology sounded sincere.

They returned to the terrace, where Linda noticed Elaina’s color and ordered tea. Grant stayed beside her but did not tease her.

That should have reassured Elaina.

Instead, she kept remembering the brief flash in his eyes before concern replaced it.

She could not decide whether she had imagined it.

The Wheelers’ permanent home was in Geneva, and most of Grant’s closest friends lived in Switzerland, France, or the United Kingdom. The Reyes family knew them only through mutual business contacts. On paper, the family appeared impeccable.

Richard and Linda Wheeler had been married for twenty-six years. Their marriage was known to be complicated but enduring. Grant was their only child and the sole heir to a multinational investment group.

To Natalia, the arrangement seemed almost too fortunate.

To Reece, that was exactly why it deserved suspicion.

After the incident at the observation pavilion, Grant brought Elaina to a quiet lounge overlooking the garden. Because she was still a minor, the door remained open, and Linda’s assistant sat within sight on the adjoining terrace.

Fruit, tea, and honey cakes had been placed on the table.

“Are you feeling better?” Grant asked.

“Yes.”

“Your face is still red.”

Elaina reached for her tea. “I’m embarrassed.”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about a phobia.”

“That is easy to say when you aren’t the one sitting on the floor in front of everyone.”

A smile touched his mouth. “Fair point.”

Near the window stood a small potted cherry tree. Grant told her he had planted it from a pit as a child.

Elaina examined it skeptically. “This looks professionally grafted.”

“You wound me.”

“I’m only being honest.”

He picked several cherries and placed them in a dish. “Try one.”

The first bite was shockingly sour.

Elaina’s eyes watered, but Grant watched her with such interest that she forced herself to swallow.

“Well?” he asked.

“Memorable.”

His mouth twitched. “That bad?”

“You try one.”

“I already know what they taste like.”

“Then you deliberately gave me the sourest fruit in the garden.”

“I wanted an honest review.”

“You should have warned me.”

He laughed, and this time there was no mistaking the mischief in it.

Elaina pushed the dish toward him. “You may finish your harvest.”

Grant ate one, immediately grimaced, and reached for his tea. Elaina stared at him, then began to laugh.

It was the first time they had laughed together.

Later, Grant suggested they return to the viewing platform, but Elaina refused.

“I’m not ready.”

He opened his mouth, perhaps to argue, then stopped.

“Alright.”

The answer surprised her.

Five years later, Elaina would remember that afternoon differently. At fifteen, she saw a confident young man teasing her, apologizing when he went too far, and respecting her refusal.

What she did not understand was that Grant viewed almost everything as a test. He liked discovering how far people could be pushed before they resisted. Elaina’s patience fascinated him, but he mistook gentleness for compliance.

He did not hate her.

That would have required stronger feeling than he was willing to admit.

To Grant, the proposed marriage was initially another carefully negotiated arrangement: respectable family, compatible wealth, excellent reputation, beautiful future bride.

Elaina was suitable.

At twenty, Grant believed suitability was enough.

Love, in his opinion, was unreliable, inconvenient, and unnecessary.

When Elaina turned eighteen, the families revisited the arrangement.

This time, no one spoke for her.

Adrian asked whether she wished to continue. Linda made it clear that Elaina could refuse without damaging the relationship between the families. Grant, already spending most of his time in Geneva, said he had no objection to a formal engagement.

Elaina said yes.

By then, the awkward teenager she had once been had grown into a poised young woman. She had completed high school with honors and accepted a place at the Royal College of Music in London. Her life revolved around composition, performance, and her father’s worsening health.

Grant’s life moved in the opposite direction. He joined the Wheeler Group, traveled constantly, and developed a reputation for ruthless efficiency. The press called him brilliant, arrogant, and impossible to predict.

They rarely saw each other.

At first, they called. Then the time difference and Grant’s travel schedule made conversations irregular. Eventually, he suggested writing letters.

“I can write from airports and hotels,” he told her. “You can read them when you have time. No missed calls. No waking each other at two in the morning.”

Elaina found the idea unexpectedly romantic.

Over the next two years, 173 letters arrived from Geneva, Paris, Singapore, New York, and Dubai. Grant wrote about cities, negotiations, absurd dinners, and people he disliked. He rarely wrote directly about emotion, but he always remembered her examinations, performances, and her father’s medical appointments.

Elaina kept every letter.

By the time she turned twenty, she believed she understood him better than anyone else did.

That spring, the Reyes family held a sixtieth-birthday celebration for Adrian at their Seattle estate. His cancer had returned after two surgeries, and everyone understood that the gathering carried more meaning than a normal birthday.

The Wheelers flew in from Geneva to discuss the wedding.

Six black cars arrived beneath a gray morning sky. Linda stepped out first, elegant in a navy coat and wearing a sapphire pendant that had belonged to Grant’s grandmother.

Elaina hurried down the steps to greet her.

“Aunt Linda, welcome.”

Linda took both her hands. “Look at you. London has made you even more beautiful.”

Behind her, Grant emerged from the next car in a charcoal suit. He seemed taller than Elaina remembered, more controlled, and somehow more distant.

Their eyes met.

For a moment, the years between their meetings disappeared.

Grant’s friend, Adrian “Archie” Laurent, climbed out after him. Archie came from a wealthy French family and possessed the careless charm of a man who had never been denied anything important.

He stared openly at Elaina.

“My God,” he murmured in French. “You failed to mention she was extraordinary.”

Grant’s expression cooled. “Watch yourself.”

Archie immediately raised both hands. “A compliment. Nothing more.”

Elaina did not understand the exchange, or pretended not to. She smiled politely and led Linda inside.

At the entrance, her brothers were waiting. Julian, the eldest, wore a black suit and looked as severe as ever. Reece, her twin, greeted Grant with the pleasant smile he used when he was trying to hide distrust.

“Long flight?” Reece asked.

“Long enough,” Grant replied.

Archie offered his hand. “Archie Laurent.”

“Reece Reyes.”

The name caught Elaina’s attention. At least Grant’s friend was not another member of her own family, as earlier introductions had mistakenly implied.

Inside, the house filled with music, conversation, and the soft clink of glassware.

Elaina believed the day would mark the beginning of her future.

She did not yet know it would end her engagement.