Chapter 268: Stunned

The wine opened with a rich, dark scent that spread through the grounded jet before the flight attendant had finished pouring.

Serena held a half-filled glass in her left hand. Her right arm rested around Elias’s waist, keeping him settled against her side. The arrangement was almost absurdly complete: expensive wine, a private cabin, and the beautiful young man she had crossed an ocean to reclaim sitting comfortably in her arms.

Elias glanced at her glass, then copied what she was doing. He pinched the stem a little too high and gave the wine an earnest swirl, watching the red liquid circle the bowl with such concentration that Serena nearly laughed.

Before she could say anything, he leaned back into her and looked up.

"Big sister, am I holding it right?"

Serena lowered her eyes to his hand.

A brief thought moved behind her smile.

"Eli, how many times have I shown you?" she asked. "You’re holding it wrong again."

The lie came easily.

She lifted the arm around his waist and covered his hand with hers. One by one, she adjusted his fingers, letting her thumb slide over his knuckles until the glass sat properly between them.

"Like this," she said. "Hold the stem here. You don’t want your hand warming the wine."

Elias tried the motion again. The wine turned smoothly this time. He watched it for a few seconds, then smiled as if the lesson had confirmed something he already knew.

"Yes. That feels right."

He took another look at the glass and murmured, almost to himself, "That’s strange. It’s such a simple thing. Why can I never remember it?"

Serena went still.

Her lips pressed together.

Because she had never taught him.

This was the first time she had ever guided his fingers around a wineglass. The memory Yvonne had given him insisted otherwise, but his body had no history to match it. He did not know the most basic habits expected in Serena’s world because he had never lived in it.

The explanation was painfully ordinary.

Elias had grown up in a cramped, worn-down home where a stemmed wineglass would have served no purpose. No private dinners. No family cellar. No etiquette lessons delivered by patient staff. If a glass like this had appeared in that house, someone probably would have filled it with tap water and set it beside a chipped plate.

Hypnosis could replace memory. It could give him the belief that he had fallen from privilege and later returned to it. It could make him think Serena had raised him as a cherished younger brother in a family that once possessed everything.

It could not rewrite the years his hands had actually lived.

Beneath the new posture and expensive clothes, he was still the boy who had grown up in that old house, soft where the world had been hard on him, unfamiliar with luxuries other people called basic.

The thought left Serena aching and uneasy at the same time.

If she had found him earlier, would he have been spared any of it? Would he have learned these things from her without needing false memories? Would he have reached for her naturally, before resentment, contracts, substitutes, and humiliation ruined every path between them?

That regret was useless now.

The unease remained.

The hypnosis was not seamless. Yvonne had warned her that small gaps might appear, and this was exactly the kind of gap she meant. It was not Yvonne’s fault. She had done what Serena asked with a level of precision few people in the world could match.

Still, Giselle was coming.

What if Elias saw her and something real pushed through?

What if a gesture, a voice, or the sight of silver hair brought back the pool, the hotel suite, the kiss, the way he had held Giselle’s hand as though the connection belonged there?

Serena slowly exhaled.

Panicking would accomplish nothing.

Security surrounded the jet. Giselle could not simply walk in, take Elias by the wrist, and leave. If the hypnosis failed, Serena could have Yvonne repeat the procedure.

The thought should have reassured her.

It did not.

For now, nothing had happened. She would not lose control before there was anything to fight.

Elias felt the breathing behind him settle.

The corner of his mouth lifted.

[System Theta: Host, what was that?]

"What was what?"

[System Theta: You intentionally created a memory inconsistency.]

Elias watched the wine circle his glass.

"I’m reminding her that I’m valuable."

[System Theta: By making her think the hypnosis may be unstable?]

"Exactly. Even after she rewrites me, I’m not completely hers. There is always a chance that the old Elias comes back."

He leaned more comfortably into Serena.

"If she knows that, she’ll keep me in her hands every second and treat me like something too precious to risk."

[System Theta: And the part about keeping you in her mouth?]

Elias’s smile sharpened.

"What about it?"

[System Theta: Nothing.]

The system fell quiet.

It suspected he had chosen the wording on purpose. It had no evidence that would improve the situation, and experience suggested evidence would not help anyway.

Footsteps sounded at the entrance.

A security aide in a black suit came aboard and stopped at a respectful distance.

"Ms. Blackwood, you have a visitor."

The body behind Elias stiffened.

Only once.

Serena relaxed almost immediately, but Elias had felt the reaction through the arm around his waist. He kept his expression neutral.

Serena looked down at him and smiled.

"Your classmate is here. Go say hello."

Elias pushed out his lower lip.

He did not answer. He simply rose from Serena’s arms with obvious reluctance, as though being asked to greet Giselle was an inconvenience he had already decided not to forgive.

Serena watched him stand.

A trace of helplessness appeared on her face for show. Inside, satisfaction spread through her.

Every sign of impatience toward Giselle made the pressure in Serena’s chest ease. It was ugly. She knew that. She did not care enough to stop.

She stood behind him and nodded to the security aide.

"Let her aboard."

"Yes, ma’am."

The aide moved to the open cabin door. A short time later, she stepped aside.

"Ms. Frost, you may enter."

Giselle came up the stairs.

Her breathing was controlled. Her posture was straight. The silver hair at her shoulders lay mostly in place, but sweat shone across her forehead despite the cool terminal air. She had reached the jet quickly enough that no amount of discipline could hide the urgency it had cost her.

"Where is Elias?"

The question went to the security aide first.

Then the woman’s slight movement opened Giselle’s line of sight.

She turned.

And stopped.

Elias stood in front of Serena, shorter by enough that Serena could look over his head without effort. Serena’s arms had returned to his waist, both hands linked across his stomach. Their bodies were nearly flush, his back resting against her chest in a posture too intimate to mistake for ordinary reassurance.

Giselle stared.

She had spent hours searching for him. She had forced herself to call Victoria. She had followed the trail from the hotel to the private terminal with the fear that Elias had been hurt, restrained, or taken somewhere she could no longer reach him.

Instead, she found him standing in Serena’s arms.

The sight was bad enough.

The confusion was worse.

Why was he allowing it?

The last time Giselle saw them together, Elias had broken away from Serena as though the Blackwood residence itself had become poison. He had told Giselle that Serena’s house was not his home. He had pulled his hand away because he thought his touch might dirty her. He had run from Serena’s manufactured care and accepted Giselle’s instead.

Now he leaned against Serena as if none of it had happened.

Serena raised her eyes to Giselle.

Her smile remained easy. Beneath it, tension tightened every thought.

"Eli," she said lightly, "say hello to your classmate."

Giselle had not yet processed the smile when Elias looked up at Serena with open annoyance.

"I told you, she isn’t my classmate. She’s only another student from Westbridge."

"All right," Serena said, indulging him. "Another Westbridge student."

Her smile grew warmer.

"But meeting someone from your university in the Maldives is still a coincidence. Say hello."

Elias resisted long enough to make it clear that he was obeying Serena, not welcoming Giselle.

Then he lowered his gaze toward her.

"Hello. Goodbye." His voice carried unmistakable impatience. "Could you please get off the plane now?"

Serena gave him a visible little shake from behind.

"Eli. That was rude."

Elias let out a cold hum.

"I said please. How much more polite do you want me to be?"

"You’re impossible."

Serena shook her head as if she had been defeated by him, but every part of the gesture carried indulgence. Her arms remained around his waist. She did not create even an inch of distance between them.

Giselle watched.

Shock appeared on her face with such force that it looked foreign there.

Giselle Frost did not show bewilderment. She did not stare with her thoughts exposed. Even when Serena had blocked a garage and security surrounded them, Giselle had stayed clear enough to act.

Now she could not hide it.

The person in front of her was Elias. His face was the same. His glasses were the same pair she had watched him remove in the hotel lobby. Every familiar line was present.

Everything around those details was wrong.

The clothes were different. The way he stood was different. His impatience had none of the dry calculation she knew. Even his dependence had shifted shape. It no longer reached for Giselle. It rested comfortably inside Serena’s arms.

He looked like a spoiled young man who had spent his life being indulged by the woman behind him.

Giselle’s gaze moved from Elias to Serena.

What had Serena done to him?