Dinner at Lady Beatrice's residence was a battlefield wrapped in silk and the clinking of silver. There, Arthur maneuvered between corrupt bankers and gossip-hungry socialites. He managed to plant a single seed in Lady Beatrice's mind: that a digital revolution would soon swallow their old ways of storing wealth. He left the house with the promise of a follow-up meeting in Zurich—a massive victory for a man living in a cramped apartment in Peckham.
However, inside the car on the way home, that victory felt hollow.
Arthur glanced sideways. Elena sat motionless, staring out the window at the blurred London streetlights. Her hands were still fidgeting with the edge of her luxurious dark blue dress. Since leaving the dinner table, she hadn't uttered a single word.
"Elena?" Arthur called softly.
Elena gave a small flinch but didn't turn around. "I want to get home, Arthur. I miss Leo."
Arthur signaled the rental driver to speed up. Upon arriving at the apartment, after Hugo ensured the perimeter was secure and returned to his post downstairs, Arthur closed the door to their creaking flat. The silence of the night felt heavy.
Elena immediately went into Leo's room, making sure their son was fast asleep under the watch of Mrs. Martha—their kind-hearted neighbor. After Mrs. Martha left, Elena stepped out into the living area, but she didn't take off her shoes. She just stood there, staring at the dull wooden floor.
"What's wrong, Elena? You did so well tonight. Lady Beatrice was even impressed with your thoughts on the paintings in her gallery," Arthur said, trying to break the ice.
Suddenly, Elena turned. Her eyes were glassy, radiating a mixture of anger and pure terror.
"Who are you, Arthur?" Her voice trembled, almost a whisper but sharp.
Arthur went still. "I am your husband, Elena."
"No! My husband is a man who is angry at the world because he has nothing. My husband is a man who slams doors because he lost a bet. He doesn't know how to talk to a Lady, he doesn't know how to predict the future, and he doesn't have a giant bodyguard standing at the door like a soldier!"
Elena stepped forward, her chest heaving with labored breaths. "This money... this luxury... I don't feel safe, Arthur. I feel like I'm waiting for a bomb to go off. Every time you touch me gently, I wonder: what is the price? What did you sell this time? Did you sell your soul? Or did you sell our safety?"
Arthur's heart sank. He realized that in Elena's eyes, this sudden change wasn't a miracle, but a threat. In his past life, every time Arthur came into a large sum of money suddenly, it always ended with debt collectors kicking down the door or Arthur disappearing for weeks in a crude binge.
"I didn't sell anything precious to you, Elena," Arthur approached slowly, but Elena took a step back.
"Don't lie to me! You talk about 'investments' and 'the cloud,' but all I see is you turning into a stranger. I'm scared, Arthur. I'm scared that the moment I start to trust you again, you'll drop me deeper than before. I can't handle that destruction again. Not for Leo's sake."
Elena began to sob. The defenses she had built up all night at Lady Beatrice's house crumbled instantly.
Seeing his wife broken, Arthur no longer tried to explain his business. He moved quickly, ignoring Elena's resistance, and pulled her into a tight embrace. Elena tried to struggle, pounding on Arthur's chest with her small fists, but Arthur held firm.
"Let me go! I hate you for making me hope!" Elena's cries broke out.
"Cry," Arthur whispered into the top of her head. "Let it all out. Hit me if it makes you feel better. But I am not letting you go. Not this time."
Slowly, Elena's strength faded. Her sobs turned into painful whimpers against Arthur's chest. She clutched his rented suit jacket as if it were the only lifebuoy in the middle of a storm.
Arthur held her, feeling the warmth and the fragility of the woman he had once neglected until her death. "I know I've been a monster to you for years. I know words mean nothing now. But I swear on Leo's life, this money I've earned is clean. I'm doing this so you never have to count coins for milk again. I'm doing this so we never have to be afraid of anyone ever again."
Arthur lifted Elena's chin, forcing her to look into his eyes, which were wet with the tears of regret.
"Your fear is the heaviest punishment for me, Elena. Heavier than any poverty. But please, don't ask me to stop protecting you. Let me prove that you can sleep soundly starting tonight."
Under the dim yellow light of the apartment, Elena saw something in Arthur's eyes that had never been there before: a peace earned from profound suffering. She didn't understand where it came from, but for a moment, the steady beat of Arthur's heart against her ear provided a foreign sense of security.
Elena returned the embrace, hiding her face in the crook of Arthur's neck. "Don't destroy us again, Arthur... I beg you."
"Never," Arthur promised, even though he knew that out there, Victor Thorne and the ruthless business world were sharpening their knives.
That night, they fell asleep in each other's arms in their old bed. Not on the plush mattress of a five-star hotel, but in the cramped flat that now felt warmer. For Arthur, this was a contract far more important than anything he had signed with Lady Beatrice.
However, as dawn broke, Arthur was awakened by the vibration of his phone on the wooden table. A short message from Julian:
"Arthur, our main server is under digital attack. Someone is trying to steal our encryption. These aren't ordinary hackers. They know our protocols."
Arthur released Elena very carefully so as not to wake her. His eyes, warm just moments ago, turned ice-cold once more. The war had begun, and his enemies had started playing dirty.