Please Come Back, My Love Chapter 42

Elena: POV

The tenderness in his voice made my chest ache.

"Julian," I said quietly, not pulling my hand away but not squeezing back either. "Your mother just made it very clear where I stand. Where I've always stood."

"She doesn't know you—"

"She doesn't want to know me." I turned to look at him, and something in my expression made him flinch. "That's the difference. Victoria gets diamond earrings and warm hugs. I get polite dismissal."

His jaw clenched. "I'll talk to her."

"Don't." The word came out sharper than I intended. "Don't make it worse by forcing her to pretend."

Silence fell again, heavier this time.

We drove through Manhattan, following Victoria's Mercedes toward whatever restaurant she'd chosen. Probably somewhere elegant. Exclusive. The kind of place that would make me feel even more out of place.

My phone buzzed in my purse. I pulled it out, expecting maybe Mom checking in or Sophia asking if I was okay.

Instead, it was a text from an unknown number:

*[Enjoying the welcome party? Don't worry—it only gets worse from here. XOXO]*

I stared at the screen, my blood running cold.

Victoria. It had to be Victoria.

"What is it?" Julian glanced over, concerned.

"Nothing." I deleted the message, my hands shaking slightly. "Just spam."

But as we pulled up to the restaurant—some trendy TriBeCa spot with floor-to-ceiling windows—I saw Victoria standing at the entrance, her phone in her hand, that same victorious smile on her face.

Julian parked and came around to open my door. His hand found the small of my back as we walked toward the entrance.

Victoria saw us approaching and waved, all false warmth. "There you are! Your parents are already inside."

She linked her arm through mine—unexpected, invasive—and leaned in close enough that only I could hear.

"Try to keep up, sweetheart," she whispered. "Evelyn wants to have a little chat with you. Alone."

My stomach dropped.

"What?"

But Victoria was already pulling away, her smile bright and innocent as Julian caught up to us. "Come on! They're waiting."

The hostess led us through the restaurant to a private dining room in the back. All dark wood and leather chairs and a chandelier that probably cost more than my annual salary.

And there, at the head of the table, sat Evelyn Sterling. Her emerald earrings caught the light as she turned toward us.

"Ah, there's my son." She stood, embracing Julian warmly. Then her eyes found mine. "And Elena."

The pause before my name was deliberate. Calculated.

"Come sit, dear," she continued, gesturing to the chair directly across from her. "I've been wanting to have a proper conversation with you. Just us girls."

The way she said "girls" made my skin crawl.

Julian's hand tightened on my back—a warning, maybe, or reassurance.

"Actually, Mother," he started, "maybe we should all—"

"Julian." Evelyn's voice was steel wrapped in silk. "Your father wants to discuss the Milan office with you. Why don't you two gentlemen head to the bar for a moment? Let us ladies have our chat."

Dylan stood immediately, already moving toward the door. "Come on, son. This won't take long."

Julian hesitated. I felt it in the way his fingers pressed into my back.

"Go," I said quietly, not looking at him. "I'll be fine."

*Liar.*

He squeezed my shoulder once—brief, almost apologetic—then followed his father out.

The door closed behind them with a soft click that sounded like a death sentence.

And then it was just the three of us. Me, Evelyn, and Victoria.

"Sit, Elena." Evelyn gestured to the chair across from her again.

I sat. Kept my spine straight. My hands folded in my lap. Everything Mom had taught me about posture and presentation.

*Don't let them see you break.*

Evelyn studied me for a long moment, her blue eyes assessing. Calculating.

"You know," she said finally, "I've been thinking about you quite a bit since Julian mentioned this... arrangement."

"Mrs. Sterling—"

"Let me finish." She held up one manicured hand. "I'm sure you're a nice girl. Hardworking. But..."

The "but" hung in the air, unspoken but deafening.

Victoria settled into the chair beside Evelyn, her posture perfect, her smile serene. Like she belonged there.

And I was just visiting.

"But," Evelyn continued, "I think we need to have an honest conversation about expectations. Don't you?"

My throat felt tight. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Don't you?" Evelyn's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Elena, dear. Let's not play games. We both know this marriage isn't... conventional."

Victoria's hand found Evelyn's on the table. Supportive. Sisterly.

And I sat there, alone on my side.

"Mrs. Sterling," I tried again, my voice steady despite the panic rising in my chest. "Julian and I—"

"Are fulfilling a contract." Evelyn leaned forward slightly. "A contract that has an expiration date. And when that date comes, I expect you to honor the terms and step aside gracefully."

The words hit like physical blows.

"Now," Evelyn continued, her tone turning businesslike, "what if I offered you five million to terminate this agreement early? That's more than generous for... well. For what you've provided."

*What I've provided.* Like I was a service. A transaction.

My hand moved instinctively to my stomach, hidden beneath the table. Our baby. Worth nothing to these people.

"I haven't asked for money," I said quietly.

"No?" Evelyn's eyebrow arched. "How refreshing. Though I imagine it must be tempting, given your... background."

There it was. The knife, slipped between my ribs with surgical precision.

"My background," I repeated, my voice hollow.

"Don't take it personally, dear." Evelyn's smile was almost pitying now. "It's simply a matter of compatibility. Sterling men need wives who can navigate our world. Who won't embarrass the family at important functions."

Victoria shifted slightly, and I saw it—the flash of triumph in her eyes before she schooled her expression back to sympathy.

This was what she'd been waiting for. Her vindication.

*You don't belong here. You never will.*

"I think," Evelyn said, reaching into her purse, "it would be best if we came to an understanding now. Before things become... complicated."

She pulled out an envelope. Cream-colored, expensive paper. Set it on the table between us.

"This is a private agreement. Separate from whatever Julian has arranged. Consider it a gesture of goodwill."

I stared at the envelope. Didn't touch it.

"What kind of agreement?"

"A simple one." Evelyn's smile was warm. Maternal, even. "You agree to end the marriage quietly. No drama, no claims on the Sterling name beyond what's already been negotiated.

In exchange, I'll personally ensure you receive an additional two million dollars. And a glowing letter of recommendation that will open doors in any fashion house in New York."

The room felt like it was tilting.

"You're bribing me," I said flatly.

"I'm offering you a future," Evelyn corrected. "A real future. Not this half-life you're living now, hiding in the shadows of a marriage that never should have existed."

Victoria's hand squeezed Evelyn's. Supportive. United.

And suddenly, I understood.

This was never about me being good enough. It was never about proving myself.

Because to them, I would always be the girl from the servants' quarters. The mistake. The temporary inconvenience before Julian could marry the woman they'd chosen for him.

"Mrs. Sterling," I said carefully, my hands still folded in my lap to hide their shaking. "With all due respect—"

"Elena." Evelyn's voice hardened slightly. "I'm trying to help you. Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be."

"I'm not trying to make anything difficult. But I'm also not going to—"

The door opened.

Julian stood in the doorway, his expression thunderous. Behind him, I could see Dylan, looking uncomfortable.

"Mother." Julian's voice was dangerously quiet. "What the hell is going on?"