
Escaping Elijah's Shadow
Escaping Elijah's Shadow Chapter 1
The party had ended hours ago, but the night was far from over. Elijah's apartment was bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp as we sat on his couch, passing a bottle of whiskey between us. My head was already spinning from the champagne I'd had at the university party, but I didn't care. Seven years of loving Elijah Bennett from afar, and finally, tonight felt different.
"You know," Elijah said, loosening his tie with one hand, "everyone expects me to be this perfect heir all the time." His voice was slightly slurred, but his eyes were still sharp, focused on me in a way they rarely were. "The pressure... sometimes I don't know who I'm supposed to be anymore."
I took another sip from the bottle, gathering my courage. "You're Elijah. That's enough."
He laughed softly, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "You always say exactly what I need to hear, Lucia."
His fingers lingered against my cheek, and my heart hammered so loudly I was sure he could hear it. For seven years, I'd been the girl who owed him everything—the orphan he'd saved from that monster at the orphanage, the charity case his family had taken in. But tonight, something had shifted.
"I'm tired of pretending," he whispered, moving closer. "Tired of everyone having expectations of me."
"Then don't," I said, my voice barely audible. "Just be yourself with me."
His eyes darkened, and then his lips were on mine, gentle at first, then hungry. I melted into him, seven years of silent devotion pouring out as I kissed him back. When we finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine.
"Is this okay?" he asked, his breath warm against my face.
"Yes," I whispered, tears threatening to spill. "It's more than okay."
---
Two weeks later, Elijah's hand rested possessively on my lower back as he guided me through the glittering ballroom of the Sterling mansion. I'd spent hours getting ready, borrowing a dress from Sophie that looked suspiciously like a designer piece but wasn't quite the real thing.
"Everyone who matters is here," Elijah murmured, nodding toward a group of his friends across the room.
I smiled nervously, trying to ignore the fact that I didn't belong in this world of old money and privilege. The orphan who'd been saved by Elijah Bennett didn't fit in with the heirs and heiresses who'd known each other since birth.
"Elijah!" Victoria Sterling's voice cut through the crowd as she approached us, her perfect smile not quite reaching her eyes. "Finally decided to bring your little project to one of our gatherings?"
I felt Elijah stiffen beside me, but before he could respond, Victoria's gaze dropped to my dress.
"Oh my," she said, loud enough for nearby guests to hear. "Is that supposed to be a Chanel? Because it's definitely not."
Heat rushed to my face as several heads turned our way.
"It's not Chanel," I said quietly. "I know the difference."
Victoria laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Of course you do. How could you not, when you're wearing a knockoff to a gathering where everyone is wearing the real thing?"
I waited for Elijah to defend me, to say anything to stop this humiliation. Instead, he cleared his throat and said, "Victoria, have you seen James? I need to discuss something with him."
The betrayal cut deeper than Victoria's words ever could. Elijah had changed the subject, effectively agreeing with her assessment of me.
---
The party continued around us, but I might as well have been invisible. Elijah had disappeared into the crowd, leaving me to fend for myself against Victoria's thinly veiled insults and the pitying glances from others.
I was contemplating finding a bathroom to hide in when Elijah's phone rang. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and his entire expression changed.
"I have to take this," he said, already stepping away.
"Elijah, who is it?" I asked, a sense of dread building.
He hesitated for just a moment. "It's Natasha."
My stomach dropped. Natasha White. The girl who'd left for abroad three years ago. The girl whose photo still sat in Elijah's wallet.
"She's back?" I asked, my voice steady despite the trembling in my hands.
"She just landed at JFK," Elijah said, already moving toward the door. "I have to go get her."
"Now? It's midnight."
"She doesn't have anyone else to call," he said, not meeting my eyes. "I'll be back later."
"Elijah," I called after him, but he was already gone, leaving me alone in a room full of people who despised me.
I stood frozen as the door closed behind him, realizing with sudden clarity that despite our kisses, despite our nights together, despite the seven years I'd devoted to him—I was still just a placeholder in Elijah Bennett's life.
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