Please Come Back, My Love Chapter 47

Elena: POV

The private dressing area at Bergdorf Goodman was all soft lighting and champagne flutes on silver trays. Mirrors everywhere—three-way, full-length, angled to catch every unflattering angle.

I stood in front of one now, wearing a beige dress that made me look like someone's dowdy aunt. High neck. Long sleeves. Shapeless.

*Perfect*, I thought bitterly. *Exactly what she wanted.*

In the seating area, Evelyn and Victoria sipped champagne, heads bent together in conversation. They'd been talking nonstop since we arrived—about Paris, about fashion week, about people I'd never heard of.

Completely excluding me.

"That one's very... modest," Evelyn said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "Very appropriate."

*Appropriate.* That fucking word again.

Victoria set down her glass, standing. "You know what? Let's try something different." She moved to the rack, pulling out a stunning emerald green gown. "Just to see."

The dress was gorgeous—plunging neckline, thigh-high slit, backless. Exactly the kind of thing that would make me look ridiculous next to Evelyn's elegant sophistication and Victoria's effortless grace.

*She wants me to look like I'm trying too hard. Like some desperate gold-digger playing dress-up.*

But fuck it. I was done with their games.

I took the dress and disappeared into the fitting room.

---

The green gown fit like it was made for me. The fabric hugged every curve, the slit revealing nearly my entire leg. The neckline plunged low, held together by a single delicate clasp.

I looked... powerful. Sexy. Like someone who belonged.

*Like someone Julian might actually want to be seen with.*

I stepped out.

The dressing area went silent.

Evelyn's champagne glass paused halfway to her lips. Victoria's smile froze.

"Well," Evelyn said finally, her voice tight. "That's certainly... eye-catching."

"Very," Victoria added, recovering quickly. "Though perhaps a bit much for a family birthday party? You don't want people to get the wrong impression."

*The wrong impression.* That I was a whore. A social climber. Julian's dirty little secret dressed up like high-class arm candy.

"I think it's perfect," I said quietly.

Evelyn set down her glass with a sharp clink. "Elena, darling. Be reasonable. That dress is far too revealing for a Sterling family event. You'd embarrass Julian."

"Would I?" I turned to face them both. "Or would I just embarrass you?"

The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.

"Excuse me?" Evelyn's voice was ice.

"You heard me." My hands clenched at my sides. "You brought me here to humiliate me. To dress me up in boring, forgettable clothes so I'd blend into the wallpaper. So everyone at that party would look at me and think, 'Oh, that's just Julian's little charity case.'"

"That's not—" Victoria started, but I cut her off.

"Don't." I stepped closer. "Don't pretend this was about helping me. Don't pretend you were trying to be kind."

I looked at Evelyn. "You said you wanted to apologize. That you wanted to get to know me. But that was all bullshit, wasn't it?"

Evelyn's face had gone pale. "How dare you—"

"How dare *I*?" A bitter laugh escaped. "You compared me to a broken toy. You told me Julian would discard me the moment our contract ended. And now you're trying to dress me up like some Victorian spinster so I'll know my place."

I was shaking now, adrenaline and anger and months of suppressed rage finally breaking free.

"Well, here's the truth, Mrs. Sterling." I moved even closer, until we were nearly nose-to-nose. "I'm not going anywhere. Not because of you. Not because of Victoria. If Julian wants me gone, he can tell me himself. But I won't be bullied out by his mother."

Evelyn's eyes narrowed. "You're making a mistake—"

"The only mistake I made was thinking you might actually care." My voice was shaking now. "That you might see me as more than just some obstacle to remove."

The slap came out of nowhere.

My head snapped to the side, cheek burning. For a second, I couldn't process what had just happened.

*She hit me. Julian's mother just hit me.*

"You disrespectful little—" Evelyn's voice was shaking with rage. "How dare you speak to me like that? I am a Sterling. Do you understand what that means? My family built this city while yours was—"

"While mine was what?" I touched my cheek, feeling it throb. "Scrubbing your floors? Is that what you were going to say?"

Victoria stepped forward, her voice honey-sweet. "Elena, you're being hysterical. Mrs. Sterling was only trying to help—"

"Shut the fuck up, Victoria." I didn't even look at her. "This doesn't concern you."

"Everything concerning Julian concerns me," she shot back. "And the way you're acting right now—screaming at his mother like some unhinged—"

She didn't finish. Because Evelyn made a strange sound—a soft gasp that turned into a wheeze.

I turned. Evelyn's hand was pressed to her chest, her face suddenly gray. She swayed on her feet.

"Mrs. Sterling?" The saleswoman rushed forward. "Are you alright?"

Evelyn's knees buckled.

I moved without thinking. Caught her before she hit the ground, my arms wrapping around her slight frame as we both went down. Her weight was nothing—she was all bones and expensive fabric.

"Call 911!" I shouted at the saleswoman, who stood frozen. "NOW!"

Victoria was screaming something, but I couldn't focus on her. Evelyn's eyes had rolled back, her breathing shallow and rapid.

*Heart attack. Fuck. It's a heart attack.*

I laid her flat on the carpet, tilting her head back to open her airway. Checked her pulse—weak, erratic. Not breathing.

*Come on, Elena. You learned this. You can do this.*

I positioned my hands on her chest—two inches above the bottom of the sternum, fingers interlaced. Started compressions.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

*Thirty compressions, two breaths. Thirty compressions, two breaths.*

My shoulders burned. My arms shook. But I kept going.

"What are you doing?" Victoria shrieked. "You're hurting her! Stop—"

"If I stop, she dies!" I didn't look up. "Get the fuck away from me."

Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen.

Evelyn's chest rose and fell with each compression. No response.

*Please. Please don't die. Julian will never forgive me if you die.*

Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine. Thirty.

I tilted her head back, pinched her nose, and gave two rescue breaths. Watched her chest rise.

Started compressions again.

"The ambulance is on the way," the saleswoman said, her voice trembling.

"How long?"

"Three minutes."

*Three minutes. I can do three minutes.*

But my arms were giving out. Each compression took more effort than the last.

"Elena—" Victoria's voice was different now. Scared. "Is she going to be okay?"

"I don't know." Another breath. More compressions. "But I'm not letting her die."