Chapter Sixteen Unwelcome Distance （Elaras POV）
Chapter Sixteen: Unwelcome Distance (Elara’s POV)
The door clicked shut behind Elara as she stepped into the house, slipping off her heels with a tired sigh. The trip had been exhausting—but in a way that had nothing to do with work.
Being around Adrian constantly, balancing stolen moments and careful distance, pretending everything was normal… it had taken more out of her than she wanted to admit.
All she wanted now was something familiar. Something safe.
Mikhail.
---
She spotted him in the living room, standing by the window, his posture relaxed but distant. For a moment, relief washed over her.
There he was.
Unchanged.
Uncomplicated.
“Mikhail,” she said softly, her voice warming as she walked toward him.
He turned slightly, his expression unreadable.
Elara didn’t think twice—she stepped forward, arms lifting naturally as she moved to hug him.
But he stepped back.
Just enough.
Just deliberate enough.
The movement was subtle—but unmistakable.
Elara froze.
For a second, she wasn’t sure what had just happened. Her arms hovered awkwardly before she slowly lowered them, her chest tightening.
“Mikhail…?”
His gaze met hers, calm but distant in a way she had never seen before.
“We need to talk,” he said.
No warmth.
No softness.
Just finality.
---
Something cold settled in her stomach.
“What’s going on?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
Mikhail didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he gestured toward the couch. “Sit.”
The quiet authority in his tone irritated her—but she complied anyway, her unease growing with every passing second.
Mikhail remained standing for a moment, watching her, before finally speaking.
“I offered Camille a job,” he said.
Elara blinked.
“What?”
“As my executive assistant,” he continued evenly. “And she accepted.”
The words hit like a slap.
“You did what?”
Her voice rose, sharp and incredulous.
Mikhail didn’t flinch. “I offered her a position. She needed the opportunity.”
“Elara let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Out of all the people in the world, you chose her?”
His eyes hardened slightly. “She’s qualified.”
“That’s not the point!” Elara snapped, standing abruptly. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
“Do I?” he asked calmly.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “Yes. You do. You’re getting close to her again. After everything—after I told you I wasn’t comfortable with that—you just… what? Ignore it?”
Mikhail’s expression didn’t change, but something in his gaze turned colder.
“That was years ago,” he said. “And I made that decision then. Not now.”
Elara stared at him, disbelief turning into anger.
“So that’s it?” she demanded. “You just decide she’s back in your life like nothing happened?”
“She never really left,” he replied quietly.
That did it.
---
A sharp, bitter feeling twisted in Elara’s chest—jealousy, anger, something dangerously close to panic.
“You’re unbelievable,” she snapped. “You’re choosing her over me?”
Mikhail’s jaw tightened slightly. “This isn’t about choosing.”
“It clearly is!” she shot back. “Because right now, it feels like you’re putting her above everything else—above me.”
There was a brief silence.
Then, calmly—too calmly—
“Maybe you should ask yourself why that bothers you so much.”
The words landed hard.
Elara felt her control slipping, emotions rising too fast, too sharp. “Don’t turn this around on me,” she said, her voice shaking. “You’re the one crossing boundaries.”
“And you’re the one assuming there are still boundaries to cross,” Mikhail replied.
Her breath caught.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Mikhail didn’t answer immediately—and somehow, that silence was worse.
---
“I’m not doing this,” Elara said suddenly, grabbing her bag. “I’m not standing here while you… while you make decisions like this and expect me to just accept it.”
She turned, heading for the door, her emotions spilling over.
“Elara—”
But she didn’t stop.
The door slammed behind her.
---
Outside, the cool air hit her face, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside her. Her hands trembled as she pulled out her phone, immediately dialing Adrian.
He picked up quickly. “Hey—what’s wrong?”
Elara didn’t bother easing into it.
“Mikhail offered Camille a job,” she said, her voice tight with anger. “As his executive assistant. And she accepted.”
There was a pause.
Then—
“He told you?” Adrian asked, his tone darkening.
“Yes,” Elara snapped. “And he’s acting like it’s completely normal. Like I’m overreacting.”
Adrian exhaled sharply. “We need to talk.”
Her chest tightened. “Something’s not right, Adrian. This isn’t just a job. I can feel it.”
Neither of them said it out loud.
But the thought was there.
Loud.
Unavoidable.
---
And for the first time—
Elara wasn’t sure she was the one in control anymore.