Between Love and Betrayal

Chapter 1

The rain poured down in sheets, flooding the streets and bringing traffic to a standstill. The winds howled as power lines snapped and trees were uprooted, making the roadways nearly impassable.
Elena Sterling sat anxiously in the back of a taxi, her white wedding dress clinging uncomfortably to her as she lowered the window to peer out at the unmoving line of cars ahead.
“Can we take another route? I’m in a bit of a hurry to get married,” she urged the driver, glancing nervously at her watch.
“Miss, this is the only main road; it’s just as jammed behind us,” the driver replied, honking the horn in frustration as he lit a cigarette.
“Such an unconventional sight, a bride in a cab,” he added, a hint of disdain creeping into his tone.
“My fiancé had an emergency,” Elena bit her lip, trying to remain composed. “How much longer?”
“Not far, just a lot of traffic in this storm. We’ll get through those two traffic lights up ahead, then take a right, and we’ll be there,” the driver gestured with his rough hand.
Elena picked up the hem of her wedding dress from the floor, tying it off expertly before clutching her handbag. “No need to change it up, thanks,” she replied, and jumped out of the taxi as the driver’s shouts echoed behind her.
Today was her wedding day. No car to escort her? No problem. She was determined to arrive and marry the man she had dreamed of since childhood—Cassandra Vale.
Their families had been close, walking to school together, but an engagement arranged by their parents had seen Cassandra leave for studies abroad. Now he was back, surely in time for their wedding…
The downpour soaked her carefully chosen shoes and veil, but she kept smiling, determined to forge ahead to the Crystal Palace Inn.
Glancing at her reflection in a nearby puddle, wet and bedraggled, she sighed. But surely, Cassandra wouldn’t mind.
With new resolve, she stepped confidently through the doors to the second floor.
“Let’s give a warm welcome to our beautiful bride!” The host’s expression faltered slightly; it wasn’t every day that the bride arrived late.
As Elena pushed the doors open wide, the decorations met her gaze—exactly as she had imagined. Cassandra hadn’t forgotten a single detail.
“She’s here? How audacious,” came a whisper from the crowd.
“Do the Sterlings even deserve to be tied to the Vales?” another scoffed.
“Look at her, soaked to the bone. Is that how one enters the Vale house?” Voices rose in judgment.
Ignoring the chatter, Elena brushed past the critics, reminding herself that their opinions mattered little.
Releasing her grip on the dress, she elegantly made her way to the center of the stage, but Cassandra seemed unable to meet her eyes. Was he nervous?
“Now, may I ask if you, Elena, take Cassandra to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and cherish forever?” the host handed her the microphone.
“I do,” she declared, excitement mingled with shyness in her voice.
“And Cassandra, do you—”
“No, he doesn’t,” a voice like ice interrupted, cutting through the tension of the room.
Shock rippled through the attendees. Who dared to disrupt the vows?
From the back, a woman stood, surveying the crowd with calm authority as she finished, “He loves only me. And I am pregnant with Cassandra’s child.”
Elena's heart sank. Clarissa Sterling. Pregnant.
Since Clarissa had fallen from an elevator at eight years old and lost her memory, she’d moved in with Elena’s family. Their father claimed she was his late brother’s daughter, entrusted to his care.
Elena had hoped for harmony, but Clarissa was perpetually the victim, stealing everything, while Elena—feeling the pressure from their father—had always let her have her way. But now, her fiancé too?
With narrowed eyes, Elena shifted her attention from the stage to Cassandra, gathering herself as she caught his hesitant gaze.
“If only you hadn’t shown up,” he muttered softly.
“Why say that now? You could’ve told me earlier,” she replied, disappointment hardening her heart, “Why make me look foolish in front of everyone?”
This had to be another of Clarissa's schemes.
William Sterling, Elena's father, approached her, concern etched on his face. He wrapped a supportive arm around her shoulders.
“That was a cruel move, Clarissa,” he reprimanded, his voice stern.
“Dad, is ‘cruel’ really the word? She’s taken so much from me since we were kids! Am I not your real daughter?” Elena's fury erupted, a dangerous light shining in her red-rimmed eyes as she glared at Clarissa, poised and carefree.
William adjusted his glasses uncomfortably. “Elena, calm down. This is a union; we need to think of the Sterling and Vale families. We can’t afford a scandal. It’s best to move on, for everyone’s sake.”
“Dad…” Elena felt ice wrap around her heart, tears falling onto the ground.
Throughout her life, her parents had never lavished her with favoritism, always doting on Clarissa, whom they believed was more deserving.
“Let’s continue the wedding,” William declared, his voice booming. Elena realized Cassandra hadn’t said a word.
Turning away in revelation, she understood then—it wasn’t worth shedding tears for someone so beneath her.
Any random guy off the street could surpass Cassandra in worth. From now on, she wanted nothing to do with the Sterlings.
Clarissa, in the times to come, I’ll no longer be your sister. No more yielding to you.
With newfound pride, Elena strode out, the symphony of the wedding playing behind her, her wedding dress trailing like a comet.
Though her heart was heavy from the desolation of a wedding that had crumbled, for she had always thought it would go smoothly with Cassandra, she had never engaged with another man.
As the storm raged on, she wandered aimlessly through the streets as dusk fell. Stopping at the unknown Masquerade Tavern, she sensed the need for something strong to drink and a mask to cover her face. Without hesitation, she entered, claiming one of the masks before stepping inside.

Chapter 2

"Bang." Elena Sterling looked up after bumping into someone, realizing it was truly an unfortunate encounter.
"Hey, sister! What a coincidence!" Clarissa Sterling feigned innocence, wrapping her arm around Elena's and casting a scrutinizing glance around.
Elena recoiled in disgust, shaking off Clarissa's grasp as she pulled her mask atop her head. "Cut the act. There are no familiar faces here."
"Are you here to see Cassandra Vale? Or is there someone else on your mind?" Clarissa teased, gesturing toward the wedding gown still draped on Elena, mocking her.
Elena shot her a smile, gripping Clarissa's restless arm. "That kind of scum? I've moved on, sis. You can have him to yourself."
With a dismissive shove, Elena attempted to step away.
"Whoa." Hearing the sound, Elena turned back just in time to see Clarissa dramatically fall to the floor, seemingly without any effort.
Was she really that light?
Turning, she spotted Cassandra Vale.
Cassandra screamed, "Elena! What are you doing? Can you blame Clarissa? It's me who's let you down. You know she's pregnant, right?"
In that instant, it all clicked for Elena. It was all part of Clarissa's little performance. She should pursue an Oscar nomination.
How ridiculous. She looked at Clarissa sprawled on the floor and Cassandra rushing to help her, clapping mockingly, "Bravo, bravo."
"Cassandra, don't blame sister. It's my fault. I um, nothing serious..."
"Clarissa, how noble of you to defend her. Where's your sense of sisterhood?"
Oh my gosh, could it get any more melodramatic?
Of course, Clarissa was the saint, and tiny Elena had to be the wicked sister. Just like a pig climbing a tree, no doubt.
The sting of humiliation from earlier that morning faded away, likely because these two were irrelevant to her life, turning the entire situation into a joke.
As Elena turned to leave, she paused and elegantly glanced back. "You two should think about a hospital visit."
Cassandra and Clarissa exchanged puzzled looks.
Elena pointed at Cassandra. "Have him checked for mental health issues. That husband of yours seems a little off," then redirected her finger to Clarissa, "Make sure to check on the baby too. Tsk, tsk..."
"You. You wait, Elena Sterling!" Cassandra's voice trembled with anger.
Elena felt a rush of satisfaction as she plopped down in a corner of the bar, ordering a bottle.
Revenge meant making the other side angry—it felt liberating. Forget kindness and understanding.
She just needed to live better and then strike back.
As Elena downed her drink, contemplating whether to head home or somewhere else, she was unaware that a man in the corner, wearing a black mask, was observing everything.
Even after all these years, even without a word exchanged, I can recognize you in a crowd by the "V"-shaped scar on your forearm.
Interesting, isn’t it, Elena?
As the drinks piled up, Elena's thoughts grew foggy; the bar began to sway. Something was off with this liquor.
Shaking her head to stay alert, she scanned the room. Who was that?
Clarissa, beaming like a summer breeze, walked up to answer that question.
"What do you want?" Elena forced herself to remain alert, struggling to keep her eyelids open.
Clarissa pressed her hand firmly on Elena's shoulder, preventing her from rising. "Sister, I can still get to you. But tonight is supposed to be your wedding night—you deserve a little enjoyment that my husband didn’t provide. Think of it as thoughtful of your sister."
"Why? Isn't this enough? What do you want from me?" The more Elena spoke, the weaker she felt.
"This is just the beginning. I am the only true heir of the Sterling name, while you? You need to figure out your own life path." Clarissa smiled, her lips parting.
Elena wanted to argue back, but the effects of the drug in her drink pulled her down, and she slumped heavily onto the table.
The masked man rose from his chair, gesturing to the figures dressed in black behind him, who immediately followed, straining to hear his instructions.
"..."
"Understood." The henchman quickly took off.
The bar remained loud and lively, and under the dim lights, the only visible feature of the masked man was his pair of bright eyes, shimmering with a mix of surprise and uncertainty.
A tall figure, he stood among the chaotic patrons, looking utterly out of place.
"Get her to room 2202. Quickly, and there will be benefits for you."
Clarissa smiled victoriously as she watched an unconscious Elena, her lips curling as she casually handed the room key.
"Ah, she’s quite the find. What a shame." One of the hefty men clucked his tongue.
"No shame. After my guest is done with her, you can do as you please." Clarissa narrowed her eyes, lifting her well-defined chin.
Who would've thought the sister would gift her sibling as an offering to a guest?
The oriental henchman followed closely, realizing they were headed to the boss’s presidential suite with the intoxicated Elena.
As the man carrying her emerged, the henchman went back to report.
The masked man’s eyes narrowed, and with a smile, he turned his gaze into the distance. An icy aura surrounded him. He had a tall build—lean yet imposing, like an eagle in the night, exuding an air of dominance.
"Boss, phone call," the henchman reminded him.
He accepted the phone, saying nothing, waiting for the other party to speak first—his usual tactic.
"Lance, hello! I'm Cassandra Vale, the main representative of Vale Enterprises. Since this is your first time in the City of Garth, I’m hoping for your guidance. Tonight, you’ll see the special clean gift I prepared for you..."
Cassandra rambled on, causing Lance Brighton to frown, “Beep...” as he hung up the call.
Anyone could see the big boss was furious, very much so.
"Clear this bar in three minutes, by any means necessary." Lance commanded the respectful henchman in black.
"Yes, sir."
Watching the crowd disperse, Lance quietly removed his mask. Beneath thick brows lay piercing eyes, a sharp nose, and thinly pressed lips.
Elena Sterling, didn’t you once relish the position of Sterling's esteemed lady? How could you have fallen so low—humiliated and forced to give up your engagement? And now, drugged and sent to someone’s bed like a mere package... Had I known...
Lance instinctively clenched his fists. This wasn’t over.

Chapter 3

With his suit jacket casually slung over his shoulder, Lance Brighton fished the room key out of his pocket. After a brief moment of hesitation, he pushed the door open.
Inside, as expected, Elena Sterling lay unconscious on the bed, completely disrobed.
The warm light illuminated her delicate features, and her cheeks were flushed pink from the alcohol, making her look utterly enchanting. Her wine-red hair cascaded in loose curls, giving her an almost carefree and rebellious appearance. Beneath her slender eyebrows, her closed eyelids fluttered slightly, evoking a protective instinct in him.
What if it wasn’t him who walked in today, but some other guy?
Lance Brighton couldn’t even bear to consider the consequences; it was too terrifying to contemplate.
Just as he prepared to storm out in anger, Elena kicked away the only blanket that covered her.
“It’s so hot! So hot… Mmm…” Elena sprawled out, stretching her arms and legs wide, forming a big star.
Without wasting a second, Lance grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and hurried to her side.
“Wake up, wake up. Here’s some water…” He called out, but no matter how much he tried, she didn’t stir. Giving up on the shouting, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers in a quick, decisive kiss.
That was his motto: efficiency above all.
Elena involuntarily gulped, and as Lance attempted to pull back, her arms wrapped tightly around him, pulling him closer.
This time, she initiated the kiss, murmuring softly, “So cool… so comforting…”
Her voice was clear but quivered slightly.
Unable to contain himself any longer, Lance pressed his chest against her soft, pale skin, rolling his body against hers…
**The Next Morning**
A loud gurgle from her stomach jolted Elena awake. She blinked in confusion, trying to remember what she wanted to eat, when her eyes snapped open wide.
She found herself in an exceptionally luxurious suite, with a vintage European design that screamed opulence—from the crystal chandelier to the elegant glasses and slippers adorning the room.
How did she end up here? Oh right, she remembered now. Clarissa Sterling slipped something into her drink last night.
The room was eerily quiet, and she wondered if anyone else was around.
"What to do, what to do?" Elena thought frantically. "Stay calm, it's just my first time… losing it is one thing, but losing my life is another!"
A soft “beep” echoed from the kitchen, prompting her to wrap the blanket tightly around herself and stand up, anxiety creeping in.
It felt like someone had a grip on her throat; she wanted to scream but couldn’t find her voice.
Suddenly, a tall man in a crisp white shirt and black pants emerged from the kitchen, holding a glass of milk.
As he approached step by step, Elena was taken aback. He was incredibly handsome.
His deep-set eyes had a natural air of confidence about them. She had seen many so-called "dreamy" men before, but none could compare to him.
Elena's tension began to ease, though her gaze was still irresistibly drawn to Lance Brighton.
This couldn’t be a dream, could it?
She shifted her body slightly, but pain between her legs pulled her back into reality.
This was no dream. Handsome or not, he was still just a jerk.
“Taking advantage of a vulnerable moment, you despicable man,” she spat, quickly shaking off her dazed admiration.
Lance Brighton merely chuckled at her insult. "Honey, you're the one who wanted this."
Elena felt her cheeks flush and instinctively lowered her gaze.
Oh right, it was the drugs Clarissa had given her.
Infuriated, she couldn’t find the words to respond, yet she also refused to back down.
“Don’t be mad, just drink this milk. You had a rough night,” Lance smiled mischievously, his gaze unwavering.
Elena grabbed her clothes and rolled herself back under the covers.
“Get out! I need to change!”
“What a silly thing to say. I saw every bit of you last night; is there really a need for modesty now?” Lance quipped with a playful smirk.
Fuming, Elena buried herself completely in the blankets to get dressed while he couldn’t help but smile wider.
He suddenly realized that being around her made him feel at ease in a way that was entirely refreshing.
And that realization… was oddly sweet.
“Elena Sterling, come on out!”
“How do you know my name? There’s nothing to discuss. Just leave!” Her muffled voice emerged from the cocoon of blankets.
“Let’s get married.”
Elena thought she must have misheard him. She yanked the blanket down, staring at the strikingly serious yet gentle man in front of her.
“You didn’t hear wrong—I said, let’s get married.” Lance seemed to sense her shock.
Standing barefoot on the cold floor, Elena retorted, “Married? Are you joking? We just met yesterday; what’s your deal besides being good-looking and somewhat wealthy? You really think you can find a wife like that?”
She fired off questions in rapid succession, causing Lance to chuckle at her adorably flustered state.
“Why are you laughing? I don’t even know your name!” she exclaimed, panicking.
Furrowing his brow, Lance stepped forward, scooping her up effortlessly and placing her back on the bed, all in one fluid motion. He stood before her with a confident demeanor.
“Lance Brighton, CEO of Brighton Holdings.” He stated succinctly. He had never had to introduce himself before; he was used to people knowing who he was.
“Brighton Holdings? Is that the one in the newspapers?”
“Yep, that's the one.”
“Oh my gosh, Elena, what have you gotten yourself into?” She thought in a frenzy. He was stunning, his background solid; taking revenge on the Sterling Family and Vale House would be a cakewalk for him. Not to mention, he had taken her virginity last night…
Seeing her hesitation, Lance pushed further. “I can help you. You won’t need to do a thing. Just say yes.”
“Why me?” Elena tried to maintain her composure, locking her gaze with the enchanting man before her.
“Because you slept with me, and that makes you responsible,” he replied, grinning. “What happened last night was a joint effort by your family and Vale House to ruin your reputation. And now I’m stuck with a compromise too. Do you understand now?”
Who slept with whom, exactly? Elena wiped the sweat from her brow. But there was no point in dwelling on it anymore. “You can’t back out now.”
Lance laughed, initially thinking it would be hard to convince her, but Elena was surprisingly innocent and easy to reel in.
“Come on; let’s go to the marriage bureau.” He said, exuding a carefree air that belied the exhausting night they’d had.
After completing a series of formalities, Elena emerged from the office holding a marriage certificate, side by side with Lance Brighton.
She pinched her own cheek in disbelief. It wasn’t a dream.
Just like that, she had married this unbelievably beautiful man. Surely, she wouldn’t come out worse for wear. After all, things couldn’t get any worse than they already were.
“Pinch me again, and I might get jealous, Lady Elena. This face is now part of our shared assets,” Lance’s alluring voice rumbled close to her ear.
Lady Elena.
Elena felt her face heat up uncontrollably as she shook her head in disbelief.
How impulsive. What if he was scamming her? It seemed like revenge came at a cost.
At least his intoxicating looks couldn’t be faked.
“What are you thinking about, Lady Elena?”
“Nothing, really…” she responded without thinking.
“In that case, let’s go home.” Lance teased.
“Home? Uh, where to?” Elena’s eyes sparkled like that of a curious child.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, ruffling her hair playfully. “To our home.”
“But what about my stuff…”
“Leave it behind; I’ve already arranged for everything you need.”
So this was the legendary domineering CEO. Surprisingly, there was a warmth to him. At least now, she had a home to call her own, someone who cared.
Even if it turned out to be a scam or a dream, in this moment, the excitement outweighed her doubts.

Chapter 4

Lance Brighton drove silently to the mansion, tense and uncommunicative. Elena Sterling wanted to ask him something several times, but her voice seemed caught in her throat.
“Here we are.” Lance parked the car in front of an incredibly luxurious villa.
Yes, it was expected for a CEO to live in a villa, but this was extravagance beyond belief—it resembled a royal palace.
A middle-aged man in a crisp white shirt and a purple bow tie opened the car door for her.
The landscaping around the property was more beautiful than any park, vibrant and meticulously maintained.
This was definitely not a scam; who would be rich enough to stage such a deceit? Elena’s spirits lifted as she glanced around, letting Lance lead her inside, hand in hand.
“Congratulations, Mr. Brighton and Mrs. Sterling on your marriage!” The neatly lined-up staff on either side of the entrance smiled and cheered.
Once inside, the decor took her breath away. If the presidential suite had been classical elegance, this place felt like it belonged in a European royal court.
The round arched windows and stone niches exuded sophistication. The fresh white plaster walls combined with soft red roof tiles and a series of arches and corridors led to a soaring great room that made her heart flutter.
What had she done in her past life to deserve marrying into a family like this? Elena felt a mix of anxiety and excitement.
After handing her off to Steward Lang, Lance excused himself and left.
Feeling uneasy, Elena opened her laptop and instinctively logged into the website of Elena's Jewelers.
Then a pop-up ad jolted her to attention. The headline read: “The Sterling Heiress Goes Missing, Found Drunk and Selling Herself...”
Oh my God, what was this?
Wasn’t that the bar from last night? After she passed out, the woman across from her had ripped off her mask, revealing her face. And there was even a photo of her on the bed in suite 2202.
The hands in that photo were all too familiar—Elena recognized them as those of her sister, Clarissa Sterling, with whom she had grown up for over a decade.
The comments below were even more disheartening.
“I never expected the heiress to look so innocent and yet have such a tumultuous private life.”
“I always suspected she had this side to her; otherwise, how could that engagement be called off?”
“I doubt she’ll ever show her face at work again, or even dare to come back to the Sterling family.”
…
At work, her colleagues had always treated her warmly, but now it seemed they were just relishing the gossip.
Elena’s hand trembled around her water glass, and tears pooled in her swollen eyes.
Swiftly, she closed the company’s website and turned off her laptop. Suddenly, she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. She turned to see—
Lance Brighton.
“I thought you left. That was fast,” she said, confused.
“Show me the marriage certificate,” he demanded, his expression serious and hurried.
“Wait, are you serious? We're getting divorced already?” Elena’s teary gaze met his.
“Don’t be absurd,” Lance snapped. He grabbed her bag and retrieved the marriage certificate from it. “Let’s go.”
Elena glanced at the clock—it was seven-thirty. “Where to?”
Lance remained silent; he never liked explaining himself.
Sterling Manor.
“What are we doing here? You can’t possibly want me to move back in, right?” Elena looked plaintively at the man beside her, then back at her home, lit up in the fading light.
“Just go inside, and we can talk,” he said, leading her forward.
Elena reluctantly fished out her keys, only for the door to swing open just as she reached it.
Her heart sank as she looked up to see Clarissa, arms linked with Cassandra, struggling with an enormous suitcase.
“Sis! Uncle, my sister’s back!” Clarissa shouted into the house.
“Tell her to get lost. I don’t have a daughter like her,” came her father William Sterling’s furious voice, making Elena take a step back.
“Let’s go,” she whispered, tugging at Lance’s sleeve, her tone icy.
Lance patted Elena’s head reassuringly and took her hand, stepping forward.
Cassandra, seeing this, released her grip on Clarissa. “Elena, you can’t just find some guy because my engagement was called off," she sneered.
“Stay out of it,” Elena replied sharply, then turned sweetly to Lance, “Honey, she’s bothering me.”
Lance smiled, surprised but pleased. “Wife, come here,” he said casually, as if it had been practiced.
Elena complied, expecting to continue the sweet act. Instead, Lance’s fist connected with Cassandra’s face.
Clarissa gasped, stepping back to safety, while Cassandra attempted to retaliate but was easily thrown to the floor by Lance’s swift move.
He stepped onto Cassandra as she lay there, pulling out a business card and tossing it down on her face.
“Consider those two broken ribs a small lesson. For medical expenses, take that bill to my office; I’ll reimburse you.”
Cassandra’s fury was replaced by shock as she read the glittering name on the card: “Lance Brighton.”
Elena’s mouth fell open. She had never witnessed a fight that looked so cool.
“Elena Sterling, you’re out of line!” Clarissa rushed to help Cassandra.
“Shut up!” Cassandra pushed Clarissa’s hand away, silencing her.
“You should be grateful I’m not hitting a woman. Otherwise, you’d be worse off than her,” Lance said, clapping his hands as if dirt had gotten on them.
Inside, William and Lady Margaret Vale, her parents, rushed out, alarmed by the commotion.
“What’s going on, Elena? You come back and cause chaos!” William yelled angrily, pointing at her.
Elena's eyes darkened as she looked at her parents, the people who should be closest to her. “Mom, Dad, I’m here to tell you something—I’m married.”
“After what you did, who would marry you?” William felt only shame, not realizing the truth.
“This is my husband, see? Here’s our marriage certificate.” Elena proudly held up the marriage certificate Lance was still holding.
As Lance gazed at Elena, full of confidence and fire, he swept her into his arms.
“Wife, let’s go home.”
Amid the stunned silence of her family, a sleek black Rolls Royce Phantom sped away...
Inside the car.
With a nonchalant style, Lance reversed out, looking over his shoulder. “How does it feel?”
Elena’s cheeks flushed as she smiled brightly, “Incredible! I haven’t felt this happy in ages.”
Lance responded breezily, “If you’re already this happy, just wait. This is just the prologue; the main event is yet to begin.”
Outside Sterling Manor.
“Honey, we’ll sue them. Let’s put them behind bars. I’m calling Lawyer Gabriel right now.” Clarissa, supporting the injured Cassandra, seethed with anger.
Cassandra, struggling to get up, blankly stared in the direction Elena had gone. After a moment, she finally murmured, “It’s over. It’s all over.”
“What do you mean it’s over? Are you still standing?” Clarissa inquired in disbelief.
Cassandra pushed Clarissa away in frustration. “This is all your fault! How could you betray your sister like that? You’ve ruined my life! Do you even know who that is? Lance Brighton! How will you manage the fallout with the circles we run in? Leave me alone!”
Clarissa stood frozen, her jaw dropped. “No way.”
But all he did was spend one night with her, and now it turns out she’s his legitimate wife? All her scheming resulted in her sister, Elena Sterling, becoming an untouchable Mrs. Brighton.
Elena Sterling, blessed with a title you don’t deserve, you can flaunt your wealth and status effortlessly, while the Sterling family has fallen from grace. You managed to snag the coveted Mrs. Brighton title without breaking a sweat—I will make it my mission to take you down with everything I have...

Chapter 5

"Um, can I ask where I'm sleeping?" Elena Sterling asked, feeling a bit shy.
“Lady Brighton, it's perfectly legal for you to be sleeping in my bed right now,” Lance Brighton replied, his expression serious. “Unless you want my staff to laugh at me for being impotent…”
Elena hesitated but followed Lance into the bedroom.
Lance walked straight to the computer, opened it, and swiftly uploaded their wedding photo online.
Tomorrow, there would definitely be a huge uproar. The board members would convene endlessly to discuss this matter. But this was the only way to protect Elena…
Turning back, Lance couldn’t help but chuckle.
Elena was neatly dressed, lying straight on one side of the bed, as if even the slightest movement would send her tumbling off.
“So, this is how you usually sleep?” Lance teased, his eyes twinkling with delight.
“Mmm.” Elena responded with a soft grunt, which mildly embarrassed her.
“I’m going to sleep now, no talking, okay?” Her face flushed, and as she turned to lie on her side, she unexpectedly rolled too close to the edge and fell off the bed.
But Lance caught her in a swift embrace.
“You really worry me.” He lifted Elena in a princess carry and kissed her forehead gently.
Elena settled comfortably in Lance’s arms. What woman would want to escape such a tender embrace? Why did Lance always give her a sense of déjà vu…
“Have we met before?” Elena blurted out before she even thought about it.
Lance carefully placed Elena back in the center of the bed, but his hand trembled slightly upon hearing her question.
It didn’t seem like the right time to pursue that.
He reached out playfully, giving her nose a gentle pinch. “Lady Brighton, do you know that’s the cheesiest pickup line in the book?”
Elena laughed softly, realizing he was right. With a face like his, even if they had met, she’d definitely remember it.
“These are this year’s latest pajamas from the fashion show; they were air freighted in just this afternoon. Change, shower, and then sleep. I’m a bit of a neat freak.” He opened the wardrobe and explained while Elena looked on, confused.
Once Lance stepped into the bathroom, Elena finally let out a sigh of relief.
So much had happened in just a day. First, she was forcibly married off, then drugged and sent to a room with a stranger. And now, she found herself inexplicably married to a wealthy and handsome CEO.
What a quintessential Mary Sue plot. It was like hitting the jackpot… but Lance didn’t seem like someone she had just met…
It felt surreal. If this were a dream, could she just stay asleep a little longer?
The following morning, the first warm rays of sunlight streamed through the curtains, spilling onto the grand bed.
“Ding ding ding…” The alarm clock chimed at the right moment.
Seeing Elena slowly crawl out of bed, Lance seized her and pulled her back into his arms.
“Newlywed night, you’re not allowed to leave.”
“Stop it, I really have to go to work,” Elena protested, trying to break free.
Lance immediately shook off the sleepy haze, slipping into a white bathrobe as he stepped into the bathroom. “I’ll drive you,” he stated firmly, knowing she wouldn’t budge on her own.
“No need, I can go by myself, you—”
Lance frowned and looked back at her. “If you don’t let me take you, you might as well forget about work.”
Defeated, Elena sat on the bed’s edge, thinking that he was quite bossy…
At Sterling Corporation.
Elena had braced herself for disdain or ostracism from her coworkers, but she strode in, stepping proudly in her high heels.
“Hey, Feifei! You look great! Guess love really lights up the spirit!” One co-worker chimed.
“Right? Feifei, you owe us a party for not telling us about your marriage! I treated you like a sister all this time!” another chimed in.
“Feifei, I wish I could marry a CEO! I wouldn’t come to work today!”
“Today? I could retire, I swear!”
A flurry of cheerful chatter surrounded her, each comment full of false cheer and insincerity.
Elena felt out of place. Yesterday’s accusations of being two-faced came from these same people. Now that they knew she was married to Lance Brighton, they were all suddenly eager to be on her good side…
People’s hearts are truly treacherous.
“Hey, Sister!” A flamboyant woman approached—it was Clarissa Sterling. “Sister, congratulations!” Her tone was filled with feigned delight, laced with jealousy.
Elena didn’t even bother to glance in her direction, brushing past the crowd in silence as she entered her office.
Watching Elena’s silhouette disappear into her office, Clarissa clenched her fists, secretly vowing, Elena Sterling, enjoy your little moment of glory while it lasts. Just wait.

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