For a moment, I lay still, letting the previous night's events wash over me in a dizzying wave of emotion.

After all these years, seeing Elliot again was like a punch to the gut. The air rushed out of my lungs at the first glimpse of those familiar green eyes. All the old feelings, the memories I'd tried so hard to bury, came rushing back with a vengeance.

The easy banter over dinner, the sizzling tension on the dance floor, the stolen moment in the hallway, and that bittersweet kiss goodbye swirled painfully in my mind.

And then there was James. Steadfast, stoic James, who had watched most of it unfold with a clenched jaw and stormy eyes. I knew my behaviour had pushed the boundaries of our arrangement that I'd let myself get swept up in the past at the expense of the present. But it was the ending I had needed after that rushed goodbye between me and Elliot all those years ago. Some parts of that night would be forever ours, like that sour parting from all we could have been.

When I'd finally returned to the ballroom after facing Elliot, emotionally wrung out and unsteady on my feet, James had been waiting at the bar. He'd looked at my tear-stained face and offered me his silent companionship, his hand resting on the small of my back in a gesture of quiet support. But I could see the conflicting emotions in his beautiful eyes, the turmoil and anger burning in them.

We'd stood there for a long while, sipping our drinks and watching the revelry swirl around us, an island of calm amidst the storm. James hadn't pushed, hadn't demanded explanations or made snide comments. He'd been solid and steady, a rock to cling to in the tempest of my emotions.

I'd been grateful for his restraint and the space he'd given me to process. But now, a sinking dread settled in my stomach in the cold light of day. I knew there would be fallout from last night, consequences to face, and difficult conversations to navigate.

With a heavy heart, I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower, letting the hot spray beat down my shoulders. But even the pulsing water couldn't wash away the rage inside me, the ache of walking away from the love of my life to save my company and honour my agreement with James.

James was already in the kitchen when I finally made my way downstairs. His brow furrowed as he scrolled through something on his tablet. He looked up as I entered, his expression tight.

"You're going to want to see this," he said tersely, sliding the tablet across the counter.

I glanced down at the screen - and felt my stomach drop. There, splashed across the homepage of a notorious gossip site, were photos of Elliot and me from the previous night.

We weren't doing anything scandalous - just talking animatedly over dinner, our heads bent close together, matching grins on our faces. But the intimacy was evident, the easy affection and simmering chemistry painfully apparent to anyone with eyes.

The headline screamed, "BLAST FROM THE PAST: Hunter Corp CEO Cozy with Ex at Class Reunion—Trouble in Paradise for Power Couple?" I felt anger, and my eyes stung with fresh tears.

"This is ridiculous," I bit out, shoving the tablet away. "They're making a mountain out of a molehill, implying things that just aren't true."

James's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing. "Maybe so, but perception is everything in this game. Those photos, innocent as they may be, are all the vultures need to start circling, to start questioning our whole relationship."

I ran a hand through my long hair, frustration and guilt warring. "James, I'm sorry. I never meant for this to happen or cause problems for us."

James sighed, some of the anger leaching from his frame. "I know you didn't. But Noreen, we have to be more careful. We can't afford any missteps when we're close to getting everything we want."

I nodded miserably, my throat tight. James was right, of course. I'd let my heart overrule my head last night, and now we were both paying the price.

Before I could respond, James's phone lit up, vibrating insistently against the countertop. He grabbed it, his expression darkening as he glanced at the screen.

"It's Clara. No doubt ready to rip us both a new one."

He moved to the next room to take the call, leaving me alone with my spiralling thoughts. I slumped against the counter, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes until I saw stars. What a mess I'd made of everything.

The chime of my phone startled me from my self-recrimination. Glancing down, I felt a jolt of shock at the unfamiliar number. Warily, I swiped to answer.

"Hello?"

"Nor? It's Elliot."

My breath caught, my heart stuttering in my chest. "Elliot? How did you get this number?"

There was a pause, then a rueful chuckle. "Kat. I asked her for your number. I want to help with the media situation."

I closed my eyes. Briefly, a wave of intricate emotions washed over me—gratitude for his concern, trepidation at his involvement, and a bitter longing I couldn't entirely suppress.

"El, I appreciate the thought, but I don't think that's a good idea. You getting involved will only make things worse."

"I know, I know. And I'd never want to cause you more trouble, Nor. But I have some contacts in the industry, people who owe me favours. I could make some calls and try to get those photos buried."

I hesitated, torn. The offer was tempting - Elliot had always been well-connected, and his charm and easy gregariousness won him friends in high places. But the risk... "Let me think, El. I will get back to you..."

James reappeared, his expression grim. He raised a questioning brow at the phone pressed to my ear. "Who was it?"

When Elliot's name was mentioned, a flicker of something dark and heated flashed across James's face before he quickly schooled his features back into a mask of control.

"Clara's at a loss," he said tightly, something bitter twisting his lips. "She can't think of anything to quell this, to spin it in our favour. Says it's destroying the whole narrative she's crafted."

I bit my lip, my mind racing. Maybe Elliot's help was our best shot at containing this before it spiralled further out of control.

Reluctantly, I filled James in on Elliot's offer. He listened intently, his expression inscrutable.

"As much as I hate to admit it, it's not a terrible idea," he said finally, his tone clipped. "Elliot's connections could be useful in getting ahead of this thing. Lord knows nothing Clara has thought of seems enough."

I blinked, taken aback by his unexpected acquiescence, even if it was grudging. "You're sure? You'd be okay with his help?"

James's jaw worked, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "I don't like it. But I trust your judgment, Noreen. I'll support you if you think Elliot can help and believe his intentions are purely friendly."

Relief rushed through me, chased by a swell of gratitude for the man before me. Impulsively, I reached out, laying a hand on his arm and gently squeezing it.

"Thank you, James. Thank you for trusting me on this and for having my back. It means more than you know."

He met my gaze, something unreadable in the blue depths of his eyes. After a long moment, he gave a curt nod.

"Make the call. Let's see if Elliot can work a miracle. We could use one right about now."

With a deep breath, I did just that, hoping against hope that I wasn't making an already precarious situation worse. But with James's support, grudging as it may be, I felt a flicker of hope that we could weather this storm.

Not unscathed, perhaps. But for now, that would have to be enough.