The Heiress He Underestimated novel Chapter 16

The Heiress He Underestimated

Chapter 16 The Art Of Pretending

The rest of the weekend passed in a strange, shimmering bubble of false perfection. Elera played her part so well she almost fooled herself. She laughed at Xan’s jokes, let him hold her hand as they walked the decks at sunrise, and listened with rapt attention as he pointed out constellations he’d clearly just read about in a guide. She was the perfect mirror, reflecting back exactly what he wanted to see: adoration, dependency, a blank slate waiting for his imprint.

But inside, a cold, hard core of clarity had formed. The phone call with Drakonius had changed something. It had been a crack in her isolation, and through it, her real self had breathed. She was no longer just enduring; she was cataloging. She noted the way Xan’s charm would flicker and die for a split second when a crew member addressed him without the proper deference. She saw the calculated placement of romantic gestures–the rose on her breakfast tray, the “spontaneous” suggestion to watch the sunset from the hot tub -each one designed to create a photo–worthy moment, a piece of evidence for his narrative.

She became an anthropologist, and he was her very dangerous, very predictable subject.

On their final morning, as the yacht cut back through calm, turquoise water towards the marina, Xan found her at the bow rail. He slid an arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. She forced herself to relax into the embrace.

“I don’t want this to end,” he murmured into her hair, his voice thick with a sincerity that was almost impressive.

“Me neither,” she sighed, leaning her head back against his shoulder. “It’s been like a dream.”

“It doesn’t have to be a dream, Elera.” He turned her to face him, his hands on her shoulders. His green eyes were intense, burning with possessive fervor. “Let’s not wait. My parents are hosting their annual gala next month. It’s the social event of the season. I want you there, on my arm. I want to announce our

‘engagement.”

The words hung in the salt–tinged air. This was the next move in his game. A public claiming. It would make her humiliation, when it came, all the more spectacular.

Elera let her eyes go wide, filling with what he would interpret as overwhelmed joy. “An engagement? Xan… it’s so fast. Are you sure?”

She looked down, as if overcome, letting a single, perfect tear slip down her cheek. She had practiced that tear in the mirror for situations exactly like this. When she looked up, her smile was tremulous, beatific. “Yes. Yes, of course I will.”

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