The dim corridor brightened as the lights from outside spilled in.
The chatter behind them cut off instantly. Everyone stood frozen, wide-eyed, staring in disbelief.
No wonder they were shocked. A hidden door, a sealed hallway, a dim glow—add a man and a woman alone in such a private space, and it's hard not to overthink.
Clayton paused for a second too. "What are you two doing here?"
Even though Charisse had already pushed Elliot away when the door swung open, it still looked way too ambiguous.
No one behind Clayton dared to speak; they didn't even glance at one another, like even a stray look might get them in trouble.
The only one at ease was Elliot. He leaned lazily against the wall, exactly where she'd shoved him, completely unbothered, just watching them.
When he opened his mouth, clearly ready to speak, Charisse beat him to it. She tilted her face up just enough for the light to c

After the party ended, Clayton had someone escort Charisse home.
Right before getting into the car, Charisse gathered her courage and called out to him.
Clayton turned to her, smiling faintly, a knowing glint in his eyes like he could already guess what was coming.
He tilted his chin slightly, and one of his men stepped up with a box.
When the lid came off, a few dismembered fingers lay inside—clean and pale.
Charisse froze, a chill racing up her spine.
"From the makeup artist who did your look today," Clayton explained casually. "You didn't like her work, right? Useless hands don't deserve to stay where they are. Don't you think so?"
Her face turned ghostly pale, words stuck painfully in her throat.
Clayton raised a hand gently, brushing a few stray strands of her hair behind her ear.
"What did you want to tell me? Something about the wedding?" he asked softly, his kindness laced with m

Was he out of his mind, or did he actually want her dead?
Did he not realize what would happen if Clayton saw them like this?
Charisse shoved at him with all her strength, her palms meeting the unyielding wall of his chest. But Elliot didn't budge an inch—he didn't even sway. Instead, he closed the distance between them, until he was practically on top of her, his body caging hers against the nearest surface.
Every hard plane of his torso pressed into her softer curves. She could feel the steady, controlled rhythm of his breathing—a stark contrast to her own ragged, furious gasps.
Voices came nearer down the hall:
"Oh, Mr. Ellis, you've got to tell us—when's the big day? You won't forget to invite us, will you?"
"Honestly, you and Miss Walton… just perfect together. A real match made in heaven!"
"When I get home, I'm gonna tell my daughter: 'Look at Miss Walton! Hope you find someone half as wonderful as Mr. Ellis someday.'"
Clayton chuckled at all the compliments, obviously basking in the flattery.
They turned the corner.
The hallway was lined with thick, plush carpeting—footsteps barely made a sound. Still, every muffled step pounded in Charisse's head like a warning bell.
She could already picture the look on Clayton's face when he saw them. That smile of his would vanish in an instant, replaced by the sheer humiliation of catching his fiancée tangled up with his own nephew.
Her future? Either a body bag or exile to Clearstone River.
Cold sweat broke out all over her. Just when she was about to panic completely, her right hand, still squirming uselessly, grazed a hidden crack in the wall. Desperation surged—she shoved at it hard.
A door creaked open into darkness.
She stumbled backward into it, dragging Elliot along with her.
The secret door was solid, but designed to close soundlessly. It sealed behind them like they were never there.
Right then, Clayton's group stepped into the hallway.
If any one of them paid the slightest attention, they'd notice a section of the wall trembling slightly.
Charisse leaned against the still-quivering wall, frozen in place. Elliot, meanwhile, had her caged in, his lips trailing down with maddening precision, making her head spin.
Behind her, footsteps drew closer. If one of them opened the door now, there'd be nowhere left to run.
The tension shot through the roof. Her breath stuck in her throat. Right now, her entire being had narrowed to just one sense—hearing. She swore she could even catch the sound of pant legs brushing against each other as Clayton passed.
Then, Elliot finally let go.
His breath ghosted along her neck, his smirk practically audible as he whispered low into her ear, "Should we invite them in?"
Charisse hissed back, "To do what, cheer us on?"
"Hey, a million-bucks-a-kiss deal like this? It deserves an audience."
She shot him a glare, words drying up.
Outside, the sound of shoes grew faint. They'd made it. No one noticed the hidden door.
Charisse exhaled, lungs finally working again.
Her legs went weak. The whole thing felt like barely dodging death.
Not far away, a polite staff member stopped Clayton. He'd overheard Charisse on the phone earlier, and now, he was telling Clayton everything he'd caught.It wasn't really about anything else—Charisse's words were sweet, and if Mr. Ellis was in a good mood hearing them, maybe he'd throw a little bonus his way.
"Miss Walton just said you're better than anyone else, that she really likes you. She even said no matter how hard things get, nothing's gonna stop her from being with you..." The waiter spoke with a look full of admiration, "Mr. Ellis, your relationship with Miss Walton is honestly goals."
Clayton responded with his usual gentlemanly smile, but you could tell he was in a great mood. The faint lines by his eyes only made him look more charming. "Got it. Go find Ashen for your tip."
The waiter lit up immediately and bowed, "Thank you, Mr. Ellis!"
The people behind Clayton had obviously heard too. They started chuckling, tossing out congratulations here and there.
"That guy's your plant, isn't he?" Elliot murmured in Charisse's ear. "And that phone call earlier—bet it was all staged. You just wanted Clayton to overhear it and think you're some perfect little angel, didn't you?"
Charisse was honestly floored by how much hostility he threw her way. "Wow, I'm not that desperate."
Elliot let out a soft snort. "Yeah? Hard to say with someone like you. You'll do whatever it takes to climb up the ladder."
At that point, she was just tired. She couldn't even bring herself to guess how low he thought of her anymore. In his eyes, she probably had every terrible trait imaginable—manipulative, phony, scheming... and all of it pinned on her without hesitation.
She didn't bother defending herself—not because she had nothing to say, but because it didn't matter. He wouldn't believe her anyway. In his world, she'd already been nailed to the wall like some kind of disgrace.
He waited a beat without hearing her respond, then added, "What, nothing to say? I hit the nail on the head, didn't I?"
Annoyance bubbled up inside her. She gave up entirely and snapped, "Think what you want."
Whatever. As soon as they got out of there, she'd just avoid him like the plague and dodge any more verbal jabs.
But then the conversation outside suddenly shifted tracks.
"Looking at that painting just reminded me of that diamond mosaic from the Middle Ages that Sotheby's showcased earlier this year. Wasn't it bought by Mr. Ellis?"
"Yeah, he paid 250 mil for it. I was lucky enough to see it in person once. It's supposed to be here at Nocturne, right?"
"Really? Mr. Ellis, could we take a look? That thing's a masterpiece."
Charisse froze instantly.
Her eyes slowly drifted up toward the huge frame just behind Elliot.
The grass was made of jade green agate, the night sky paved with sapphire and diamonds—subtle and luxurious, glowing in the dim light. It really was breathtaking.
Who would've thought something so priceless would be left hanging on the wall of a barely lit hallway at some private club?
"If you guys wanna see it, of course," Clayton replied. "Lucky coincidence—it's just right here."
He had already turned and started walking their way.
Before Charisse even had a chance to react, she felt the hidden door behind her begin to open slowly.
And right in front of her, Elliot was still pressed up against her—a pose that looked way too intimate.

The dim corridor brightened as the lights from outside spilled in.
The chatter behind them cut off instantly. Everyone stood frozen, wide-eyed, staring in disbelief.
No wonder they were shocked. A hidden door, a sealed hallway, a dim glow—add a man and a woman alone in such a private space, and it's hard not to overthink.
Clayton paused for a second too. "What are you two doing here?"
Even though Charisse had already pushed Elliot away when the door swung open, it still looked way too ambiguous.
No one behind Clayton dared to speak; they didn't even glance at one another, like even a stray look might get them in trouble.
The only one at ease was Elliot. He leaned lazily against the wall, exactly where she'd shoved him, completely unbothered, just watching them.
When he opened his mouth, clearly ready to speak, Charisse beat him to it. She tilted her face up just enough for the light to catch the glimmer of tears welling in her eyes, her lower lip trembling ever so slightly.
"Mr. Ellis…

Chapter 11