Temptations and Traps
Elena POV:
The message came at around 8pm in the night,and the sender name read Selena,so keep wondering how they all got my number but I had to open the msg and it read:
“Dearest Elena, It read in Selena’s looping script. I would like to speak with you privately. No games, no bitterness. Just two women clearing the air. Meet me at La Lumière Café tomorrow at noon.
No games. No bitterness. Coming from Selena, it was the clearest warning I could ask for.It gave an eerie feeling and I know that Selena is up to something but I would still go.
I almost laughed. Almost.
Damien, however, did not. He tossed my phone onto his desk and leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing like a predator scenting bait.
“She wants to humiliate you,” he said flatly.
“Of course she does,” I replied, sinking into the leather chair opposite him.
“She’s Selena. She doesn’t know how to breathe without performing for an audience.”
His mouth twitched in the shadow of a smirk. “And yet you’re going.”
“Of course I am,” I echoed. “Because if she thinks I’m still the same woman she pushed off a cliff, then she’s in for a surprise.”
His gaze lingered on me, sharp and assessing. Finally, he said, “Then prepare yourself. She’ll come at you with claws hidden under silk. Don’t let her draw blood.”
I held his stare, unflinching. “I won’t. Not this time.”
La Lumière Café was a jewel-box of glass and gold in the heart of the city, its outdoor terrace already buzzing with chatter when I arrived. Photographers lingered discreetly across the street, their lenses gleaming like watchful eyes. Of course Selena had chosen this place. Privacy was never her goal.
She was already there, draped in a pale pink dress that made her look like spun sugar and malice. Her smile was too bright when she rose to greet me, kissing my cheeks as though she did not betray me.
“Elena,” she cooed. “You look… radiant.”
I sat opposite her, smoothing the lapel of the sleek black blazer Damien had insisted I wear.
Power clung to it like a second skin. “Selena.” My smile was cool, measured. “Let’s not waste each other’s time.”
Her eyes flickered with anger and disgust, just for a second, before she leaned back with a tinkling laugh.
“Straight to business. Fine. I’ll be honest with you, darling. You’re making a fool of yourself. Parading around with Damien Cross? Everyone can see what you’re doing—clinging to his name because you’ve lost Ethan’s. It’s… sad and pathetic, really.”
She lifted her teacup with perfect poise, as though she hadn’t just tried to gut me in one blow.
I tilted my head. “You sound jealous.”
The cup paused midair. “Jealous?”
“Yes.” I let my voice drop, soft but lethal. “Because for all your posturing, you know I’m not the one clinging. I left Ethan. I walked away from the wedding. I chose something better. You’re the one who had to settle for my scraps and rubbish.”
Color rose in her cheeks, quick and ugly. Around us, I felt the subtle shift of attention—the way conversations slowed, the way eyes slid toward us. Perfect.
Selena’s smile tightened. “Please. Ethan and I are in love. Something you clearly wouldn’t understand.”
I leaned forward, letting my voice carry just enough to reach the nearest tables. “Oh, I understand love. I just don’t confuse it with desperation.”
Her mask cracked. For a heartbeat, pure hatred flashed in her gaze. Then, too late, she realized the trap: her anger was quite evident on her face. And the watching crowd drank it in.
The rest of the meeting was a dance of daggers.
Selena tried every angle—pity, superiority, even faux concern. But every bomb she launched, I gave back in ten folds to her. By the time we rose to leave, her composure was hanging by a thread.She looks like a ticking time bomb that could explode at any moment.
As we stepped onto the street, the photographers swarmed closer, shutters snapping. Selena plastered on her practiced smile, clutching my arm as though we were allies. But I leaned just enough to whisper in her ear, low and cutting.
“Careful, Selena. You wanted me humiliated. Instead, you’re the one bleeding. Keep pushing, and I’ll make sure the whole world sees the truth—that Ethan didn’t choose you. He settled for you. After me.”
Her grip tightened, nails digging into my skin. But when she looked up at the cameras, her smile was blinding.
Mine was sharper which irritated and angered her a lot and it made me happy.
That evening, the gossip columns lit up like fireworks.
Selena Sanchez rattled during a tense café meeting with Elena Mendez. What did Elena Mendez tell her to make her like that?
Did Ethan Cole fiancée lose her cool?
Power shift: Is Elena Mendez the city’s darling or daredevil
I tossed my phone onto Damien’s desk with a triumphant grin. “Round one goes to me.”
He leaned back in his chair, studying me like I was both victory and puzzle. “You handled her well. Better than I expected.”
“Better than you could have?” I teased.
His lips curved. “Perhaps. But remember—Selena is not the true danger. Ethan is. And humiliation will only make him more reckless and dangerous.”
I rolled my shoulders, the adrenaline still humming in my veins. “Good. Let him be reckless. That’s when people make mistakes.”
For the first time, Damien laughed—low, rich, and unexpectedly warm. “You’re enjoying this.”
I met his gaze. “I’m surviving this.”
But deep inside, I knew it was more than survival. It was a rebirth. And with every move I made, I was rewriting the story Ethan had tried to bury me in.
Later that night, I stood on the balcony of my room, the city glittering below me. The air was cool, scented with rain.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
A message.
From Ethan.
You think this is a game, Elena?
You humiliated Selena. You embarrassed me.
This ends now. Meet me tomorrow. Alone. Or you’ll regret it.
My pulse raced. The words weren’t a plea. They were a threat.
Behind me, Damien’s voice broke the silence. “What is it?”
I slid the phone into my pocket, hiding the tremor in my hands. “Nothing important.”
But the truth burned in my chest.
Ethan wasn’t backing down.
He was preparing for his next move.
And tomorrow… I would have to face him.
