Chapter 270 - 0270: This Is Insane

Chapter 270: Chapter 0270: This Is Insane

Elena’s Point Of View

"Twenty million dollars."

For a second, I didn’t hear anything after that.

The number echoed in my head like something unreal, like she’d just told a joke and forgotten to laugh. My mind went blank, unable to process what she’d actually said. The words simply refused to arrange themselves into something that made sense.

And before I even realized what I was doing... I choked. The juice in my mouth went down the wrong way, and I coughed hard, turning my head as I struggled to breathe. My eyes watered from the effort, and for a moment the whole room blurred into streaks of white and gold.

"God... Elena!" Lexi rushed forward, grabbing a napkin. "Are you okay?"

I waved her off, still coughing, my throat burning, my eyes stinging with tears that had nothing to do with sadness and everything to do with sheer disbelief.

"Twenty... what?!"

My voice cracked halfway through, and I stared at her like she’d completely lost her mind. This had to be some kind of mistake. A misplaced decimal point. Something. My brain scrambled for any explanation that made more sense than the truth sitting plainly in front of me.

She didn’t even look guilty. Didn’t even blink. "Twenty million dollars, baby," she repeated calmly, as though she were reading off a grocery list instead of naming a fortune.

I stared at her, searching her face for any sign she was joking, for the smallest flicker that would let me breathe again.

"No."

She nodded, completely serious.

"Yes."

"No, that’s not... that’s not true." My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a small protest against the number lodged in my mind.

"It is."

"That’s not a price, Lexi. That’s a crime." The words came out sharper than I intended, but I couldn’t help it. Something about saying it aloud made the absurdity feel almost dangerous.

She laughed, the sound light and unbothered, as if my panic amused her more than it concerned her.

"You better believe it, baby."

I shook my head slowly, stepping back toward the dress like seeing it again would somehow make the number smaller, more reasonable, more real.

It didn’t.

If anything, now that I was actually looking at it with that number lodged firmly in my head, it started to make a strange kind of sense. The fabric wasn’t just black.

It was layered in a way that gave it depth, like shadows folding into each other. Soft sheer panels blended with rich silk, creating a contrast that shifted depending on how the light touched it. The dress didn’t just sit there... it moved, even without wind, like it possessed a life of its own. Like it was breathing, patient and aware, waiting for someone to give it purpose.

Tiny crystals were embedded along the bodice, but not in an obvious way. They weren’t screaming for attention. Instead, they caught light subtly, like distant stars scattered across a night sky. And then... the diamonds.

Actual diamonds.

Set carefully along the neckline and trailing down in delicate patterns, not overwhelming, but impossible to ignore. They curved along the structure of the dress like they’d been mapped out with precision, every placement intentional, every stone chosen for a reason, as though someone had spent hours deciding exactly how much beauty a single garment could hold.

The back... God.

The back dipped low, framed with thin strands of shimmering detail that crossed just enough to hold shape without ruining the elegance. It wasn’t revealing for the sake of it. It was... controlled. Powerful. Confident. It seemed to know something about me that I hadn’t yet admitted to myself.

The slit on the side wasn’t aggressive either. It revealed just enough, balanced with the rest of the design, like the entire dress had been built around the concept of restraint. Of knowing exactly how much to show and when to hold back, a lesson I suddenly felt the garment understood better than I did.

I swallowed. Hard. My throat felt tight, my chest constricted. "This is insane," I whispered, the words barely audible, swallowed almost instantly by the hush of the room.

Lexi leaned against the table, watching me with knowing eyes, patient in a way that told me she’d expected exactly this reaction.

"I told you."

I shook my head again, my gaze still glued to the dress, unable to look away. "Why would he do this?" The question came out softer than I expected, vulnerable in a way I hadn’t intended, as if asking it too loudly might break something fragile between us.

She shrugged slightly, her expression gentling. "That’s for you to find out, Lena."

I didn’t respond. Because I didn’t have an answer. Because the thought of what this meant... what it could mean, terrified me more than I wanted to admit. There was a strange ache beneath my ribs, equal parts longing and fear.

"But one thing I know," she continued, her tone softer now, almost tender, "that man adores you."

I let out a quiet breath, trying to steady myself, trying to will my heartbeat back into something resembling calm.

"And he’ll definitely find a way to bring down the stars for you."

My chest tightened at her words. Too many things at once. Confusion. Relief. Fear. Something else I didn’t want to name. Something warm and dangerous that made my heart race for entirely different reasons, something that felt suspiciously like hope.

"Stop saying things like that," I muttered, wrapping my arms around myself as though I could physically hold my emotions together.

"Why?"

"Because—" I stopped myself, shaking my head. "Just stop."

She didn’t argue. Instead, she clapped her hands lightly, breaking the heavy moment. "Come on."

I blinked, pulled from my thoughts, grateful for the interruption even as my mind still spun.

"What?"

"Try it on."

"Lexi—"

"Don’t argue with me."

"I’m not arguing, I’m—" I started, but she was already moving. She grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the inner room, her grip firm but gentle, the kind of grip that left no room for hesitation.

"You’re trying it on."

"Lexi!"

"No."

"I can’t just wear something that costs—"

"You can and you will," she said firmly, cutting off my protest before it could fully form.

I let out a frustrated breath but followed her anyway, my feet moving even as my mind resisted, caught somewhere between terror and curiosity.

"Bossy."

"Thank you," she replied cheerfully, clearly taking it as a compliment.

Inside the dressing room, she carefully helped me out of my clothes and into the dress. Her hands moved with precision, adjusting every detail like she was handling something fragile and precious. Like I was fragile and precious, something that deserved to be treated with care rather than carelessness.

"Stand still."

"I am standing still."

"You’re breathing too much."

"I need to breathe, Lexi." A nervous laugh escaped me, equal parts amusement and anxiety.

"Barely."

I rolled my eyes but stayed quiet as she finished, feeling the fabric settle against my skin like a whisper, cool and impossibly soft, as if it had been woven specifically to fit the shape of my fear and hope together.

Then I turned toward the mirror. And froze. That... That couldn’t be me. The woman staring back looked like someone else entirely. Someone confident. Someone who belonged in a dress like this, someone who hadn’t spent the last ten minutes choking on orange juice out of sheer disbelief.

The dress hugged perfectly, like it had been made with my body in mind, every curve considered. The fabric molded to my shape without clinging too tightly, flowing down in a way that made every potential step feel... deliberate. Elegant. Intentional. As though the dress itself demanded a kind of grace I wasn’t sure I possessed.

The diamonds caught the light with every small movement, scattering soft reflections across the room like tiny fireworks. They danced across the walls, the ceiling, creating magic from simple motion, turning the quiet dressing room into something that resembled a held breath.

My shoulders looked straighter. My posture different. Like the dress demanded it. Like wearing something this beautiful required me to rise to meet it, to become someone capable of carrying its weight and its meaning.

"Say something," Lexi said from behind me, her voice gentle, almost cautious, as though she understood how fragile this moment was.

"I—"

Nothing came out.

Because I didn’t have the words. Because everything I could say felt inadequate, too small for what I was feeling. She smiled slightly, understanding written across her face, the kind of understanding that only came from genuine friendship.

"I know."

Then she disappeared for a second and came back with heels, sleek, elegant things that matched the dress perfectly, as though they too had been chosen with the same obsessive precision as everything else.

"Put these on."

I stepped into them carefully, adjusting my balance as the unfamiliar height shifted my center of gravity. And somehow, it looked even better. The dress seemed to transform with the added elevation, draping differently, moving with a grace I hadn’t noticed before, as if it had simply been waiting for the right posture to reveal its full potential.

"That’s not fair," I muttered, unable to tear my eyes from my reflection.

"What?"

"You made me look too good."

She laughed, a knowing sound that suggested she’d heard this before. "I didn’t make you look good. You already do," she said, her tone matter-of-fact, leaving no room for argument.

Before I could respond, before I could process the compliment or argue against it, she pushed me gently into a chair.

"Sit."

"What now?"

"You’ll see." A mysterious smile played at her lips, one that made my stomach flip with a mixture of dread and excitement.

She walked out again, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my reflection, the silence suddenly louder than it had any right to be.

"Lexi—"

Too late. She was already gone. A few minutes later, people started walking in, a small parade of professionals carrying cases and equipment, their expressions calm and businesslike, as though transforming a woman into something otherworldly was simply routine for them.

I blinked, my pulse quickening. "What is going on?"

"Relax," she said from somewhere behind them, her voice calm and reassuring, though it did little to settle the storm building inside me.

Hands moved around me with practiced precision. Soft. Careful. Deliberate. Someone started working on my hair, fingers threading through the strands with gentle expertise. Another began on my makeup, brushes whisper-soft against my skin, each touch a small, careful promise of transformation.

"Lexi—"

"Yes?" Her voice held barely concealed amusement.

"What is happening?"

"Trust me."

"I don’t trust you." The words came out more petulant than I’d intended, though a small part of me already knew it was a lie.

"You should." There was warmth in her response, a promise that this would be worth it, that whatever she was orchestrating came from a place of love rather than mischief.

I huffed but stayed still as they worked, feeling the transformation happen in increments I couldn’t yet see, each small adjustment a quiet revelation waiting to be unveiled. Then, more things came in, carried on velvet trays that caught the light. Jewelry, and not just any jewelry. My eyes widened immediately, recognition hitting me like a physical force, stealing the breath right out of my lungs.

"No." I leaned forward slightly, my breath catching. "No way."

Lexi smiled, clearly enjoying my reaction, savoring it the way one might savor an inside joke finally paying off.

"You recognize it?"

"This... this is the diamond set I saw months ago." The one I’d admired through a display case, never imagining it would touch my skin, let alone belong to me even for a single night.

"The same one."

"Are you serious?" My voice rose slightly, disbelief coloring every syllable, threatening to spill over into something closer to panic.

"Very."

My mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. "What is wrong with that man?" I muttered under my breath, thinking of Jaxx and his impossible gestures, the sheer audacity of someone who seemed incapable of doing anything by half measures.

No one answered that.

Because honestly, I didn’t think anyone had the answer. Some things about him defied explanation. They carefully placed the jewelry on me with reverent hands. Necklace first, cool against my collarbone. Bracelet next, encircling my wrist with delicate weight. Earrings last, their presence a gentle reminder with every slight movement of my head, a whisper of extravagance I couldn’t quite reconcile with the life I thought I knew.

Each piece settled perfectly, like it belonged there, like it had been waiting for this moment all along. When they were done, when the last clasp had been secured, Lexi pushed the mirror closer.

"Stand."

I stood slowly, my legs uncertain beneath me, my pulse thundering in my ears. And looked. And gasped again. Because, there was no way... No actual way, the woman staring back at me was me, yet somehow wasn’t.

Everything... The dress that hugged and flowed in all the right places. The hair, styled to perfection without losing its natural character. The jewelry that caught the light and threw it back in brilliant fragments, scattering brightness across every surface it touched.

The way I carried myself without even trying, shoulders back, chin lifted, it didn’t feel real. It felt like I had stepped into someone else’s life, borrowed their confidence, their elegance, their certainty, as though some braver version of myself had simply been waiting for permission to emerge.

Someone else’s skin.

I took a small step closer to the mirror, my fingers lifting slightly like I needed to confirm it, to touch the glass and prove this reflection existed, that it hadn’t simply conjured itself out of disbelief and longing.

"This is insane..."

My voice came out barely above a whisper, thick with emotion I couldn’t quite name. My heart was racing, a wild drumbeat against my ribs. My thoughts scattered everywhere, like the light off the diamonds, refusing to settle into anything coherent.

Jaxx and his relentless pursuit. The dress that felt like armor and vulnerability all at once. The papers waiting to be signed, the decision looming over everything like a shadow I couldn’t quite outrun. Everything crashing together at once, a collision of past and present and uncertain future, each piece demanding attention I didn’t know how to give.

And all I could think was... ’what the hell am I doing? What the hell is he doing? What the hell is happening to my carefully controlled life?’