Chapter Five

The dining room of the Elysian mansion gleamed with polished silver and crystal. Alexander stabbed at his Suya, barely tasting the perfectly cooked meat as Nathan's voice dominated the conversation yet again.

Alexander slouched in his chair, rolling a wine glass between his fingers. He'd perfected the art of looking engaged while being completely detached. Years of family dinners had taught him that much.

"So, Nathan," Dominick Elysian boomed, cutting into his perfectly prepared Suya, "tell us about the new resort project in Tokyo"

Nathan's smile was sharp. "It's remarkable, actually. We've managed to secure three additional investor commitments beyond our initial projections."

Victoria, Alexander's stepmother, clapped her hands. "Isn't he brilliant?" She shot a quick glance at Alexander.

Alexander took a long sip of wine, remembering how he'd originally pitched the Tokyo deal six months ago. The same pitch that had been shot down as "too risky."

"The numbers are impressive," Dominick nodded, pride radiating from every word. "Truly impressive."

The conversation continued,but Alexander had long stopped counting how many family dinners followed this exact script. Nathan would talk, Dominick would praise, Victoria would beam, and he would fade into the background.

He'd learned to be invisible. It was easier that way.

"More wine, Mrs. Elysian?" The butler approached with a bottle of an expensive wine.

"Please, James." Victoria's red lips curved into a practiced smile. "And do save some for Nathan. He deserves to celebrate."

"Speaking of celebrations," Alexander set down his glass, drawing all eyes to him. "I have an announcement."

The table fell silent. Dominick raised an eyebrow.

"Actually," Alexander met his father's gaze directly, "I'm getting married."

The clatter of Victoria's fork against her plate shattered the sudden silence. Dominick leaned forward, suddenly interested.

"Married?" Nathan choked on his wine. "You?"

"Who's the lucky girl?" Victoria's voice dripped honey, but her eyes were sharp. "Anyone we know?"

Alexander dabbed his mouth with his napkin, enjoying their shocked expressions. "You'll meet her soon enough. I'm bringing her to dinner next week."

"Well," Dominick's stern face broke into a genuine smile – the first Alexander had seen directed at him in months. "This is unexpected, but wonderful news, son. I look forward to meeting the woman who finally captured your attention."

"Yes," Victoria's fingers tightened around her wine stem. "We're all dying to meet her. Aren't we, Nathan?"

Nathan's jaw worked silently before he forced out, "Absolutely. Though I must admit, I'm curious what kind of woman would agree to marry you, dear brother."

"Nathan!" Victoria scolded.

"The perfect kind," Alexander rose from his chair, tossing his napkin onto his half-finished plate. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some calls to make."

As Alexander met Nathan's gaze, a silent challenge passed between them. One that said this wasn't just about marriage. This was about inheritance. About power.About who would ultimately control the Elysian empire.

As he walked out of the dining room, he could hear Victoria's rapid whispers to Nathan, poorly disguised as excitement. His father's heavy silence said a lot.

For the first time in years, Alexander had managed to disrupt the perfect Elysian family dinner script.The family dinners usually left a bitter taste in his mouth, but tonight? Tonight he'd finally seen fear flash across Nathan's face. And that made every minute worth it. And this was just the beginning.

He pulled out his phone, typing quickly: *Family Dinner. Next Sunday. Wear something elegant.*

The reply came almost instantly: *I never agreed to this.*

His smile widened. *You did when you signed the contract, sweetheart💔.

**********

The wine glass trembled in Isabella's hand as Mirabel dramatically sank into the chair beside her. Trust her best friend to make an entrance, even in a quiet corner of Murphy's Bar.

"Girl, you look like you've been hit by a truck," Mirabel announced, snatching Isabella's glass and taking a sip. "And this is way too expensive for drowning sorrows. Where's the cheap stuff?"

"That was mine," Isabella protested weakly, but her lips twitched into a smile despite herself. Fifteen years of friendship had taught her resistance was futile when it came to Mirabel.

"Remember that tip you wanted about Senator Morrison?"

Isabella's posture straightened instantly. "What did you find?"

"Honey, what didn't I find?" Mirabel pulled out her phone, sliding it across the table. "Your favorite investigative journalist strikes again. My source saw him accepting briefcases from known cartel members. Multiple times. Always at that abandoned warehouse by the shore.They own half the local stations and the story keeps getting buried."

Isabella's fingers itched for her sketchpad. Already, images were forming in her mind – Senator Morrison caricature, dark shadows, money changing hands, the American flag draped ironically in the background, a fascinating Wall text..

Mirabel slid a USB drive across the table. "Everything's here. Times, dates, photos."

Isabella's eyes widened as she scrolled through the documents. "How did you even—"

"Let's just say someone in his office really likes to talk after their third Martini. This is going to make one hell of a Veritas piece."

Mirabel's smile faded as she studied her friend's face. "Okay, spill. Something's wrong. You've barely touched your wine, and you always drink my wine. Even when it's cheap."

"Hey! This is a perfectly decent nine-dollar bottle."

"Bella."

Isabella sighed, running a finger along the rim of her glass. "I... might have done something crazy."

"Ooh, my favorite kind of conversation starter!" Mirabel wiggled her eyebrows. "Please tell me you finally murdered that awful Mr. Hawthorne from the hotel...Or do you mean crazy like that time we stole Principal Wagner's wig, or crazy like that time you punched Amy Mira's boyfriend for bullying me?"

"Crazier." Isabella took a deep breath. "I'm getting married."

Wine sprayed across the table as Mirabel choked. "I'm sorry, you're WHAT?"

"Shh!" Isabella dabbed the table with napkins. "Keep your voice down!"

"Keep my— Isabella Taylor, you've never dated anyone longer than three months, and now you're getting married? Who is he? When did this happen? Why am I just hearing about this now?"

Isabella's fingers found her mother's locket, twisting it nervously. "It's... complicated."

"Uncomplicate it."

"It's Alexander Elysian."

This time, Mirabel knocked over the entire wine bottle. "Alexander Elysian?THE Alexander Elysian? The notorious Playboy?"

"It's not what you think—"

"Oh, this better be good." Mirabel signaled the waiter. "We're gonna need another bottle. Actually, make it two."

Over the next hour, Isabella explained everything – Josephine's condition, Alexander's proposition, the contract. With each revelation, Mirabel's eyes grew wider.

"So let me get this straight," Mirabel said, refilling their glasses. "You're fake-marrying the hottest bachelor in the city, who also happens to know your secret identity as Veritas, all to save your sister?"

Isabella nodded miserably.

"Girl." Mirabel grabbed her hand. "That's not crazy. That's brave as hell."

Isabella's voice cracked. "What if he exposes me? What if the treatment doesn't work? What if—"

"Hey." Mirabel squeezed her hand. "Remember in high school, when those girls were pushing me around? You didn't think twice about jumping in, even though you were half their size. You've always done whatever it takes to protect the people you love. This is no different."

"Except this time I'm selling my soul to the devil in Designer suit"

"A very hot devil," Mirabel waggled her eyebrows. "With perfectly chiseled abs"

"Mira!"

What? I'm just saying, if you have to sell your soul to the devil, at least he's a hot devil."

Isabella threw a napkin at her friend's head. "You're can't change".

"And you love me for it." Mirabel's expression softened. "Seriously though, you're not alone in this. I've got your back, just like you've always had mine."

Isabella felt tears prick her eyes. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Probably die of boredom." Mirabel raised her glass. "To fake marriages, real friendship, and sticking it to corrupt politicians – preferably all at once."

Despite everything, Isabella found herself laughing as she clinked her glass against Mirabel's. The weight on her shoulders felt a little lighter, even if just for tonight.

"Now," Mirabel grinned , "tell me more about this shirtless encounter in the hotel room..."

"Oh God." Isabella groaned, but she was smiling. Some things never changed, and thank God for that.

Isabella's phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and groaned.

"Speak of the devil?" Mirabel peered over her shoulder. "Ooh, family dinner! Already meeting the in-laws?"

"This isn't funny."

"It's a little funny." Mirabel stole Isabella's phone, reading the text aloud in a dramatic voice: "'Family dinner. Next Sunday. Wear something elegant.' Wow, such romance! Such passion!"