To Have, To Hold

Chapter 10

### **Chapter Ten: Unraveling the Facade**

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The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the breakfast table. **Elena** sat across from **Alexander**, her mind drifting back to the dream from the night before. She had been so lost in it—lost in the warmth and safety of Alexander's embrace—that she hadn't realized she was staring at him.

Across from her, Alexander caught her gaze and raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Is everything alright, Elena?" he asked, his voice gentle but laced with curiosity.

Elena blinked, her cheeks flushing as she quickly looked away. "Yes, I'm fine," she murmured, though her heart raced in her chest. The memory of the dream lingered, but reality was far different, and she couldn't allow herself to indulge in those thoughts, no matter how much she wished they were true.

Alexander didn't press her further, though his eyes lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to his breakfast. Despite the unspoken tension between them, he remained as kind and thoughtful as ever, something that only deepened the guilt Elena felt for the feelings she was starting to develop.

Later that day, Liam came running into the room, his face lit up with excitement. "Uncle Alex!" he shouted, throwing himself into Alexander's arms. "Will you come over today? You promised we'd have a sleepover!"

Alexander chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately. "Of course, I haven't forgotten," he said. "I've got my own place now, but I'll check in on you every day, and we'll have those sleepovers whenever you want."

Elena watched as her son's face lit up with pure joy, a kind of happiness she hadn't seen in him in so long. Liam's bond with Alexander was growing stronger every day, and while it warmed her heart to see her son so happy, she knew it only fueled **Marcus's** jealousy.

When Marcus entered the room, his face immediately darkened at the sight of his brother and son laughing together. His gaze flickered to Elena, and she could see the storm brewing behind his eyes. His hatred for Alexander had been simmering beneath the surface for years, but now, with his brother in such close proximity, it was threatening to boil over.

Later that evening, Marcus stormed into their shared bedroom, his expression livid. "Did you hear?" he spat, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. "Alexander's being honored at some fancy ceremony in the city. They want him to attend—and they want *us* to go with him."

Elena didn't respond, knowing that nothing she said would calm him down. His jealousy had reached a fever pitch, and she could feel the tension between them growing with each passing day. Marcus's resentment wasn't just about Alexander's success—it was about how Alexander had won over Liam, and perhaps, even Elena.

"They're treating him like some kind of hero," Marcus sneered. "As if he's better than me."

In Marcus's mind, Alexander had always overshadowed him, and now, with the spotlight shining even brighter on his brother, Marcus's insecurities were laid bare for everyone to see. Elena knew that no matter how much Marcus tried to pretend otherwise, he would never forgive his brother for simply being more—more successful, more admired, more loved.

The day of the ceremony came quickly, and Marcus was on edge the entire morning. As they got ready, his temper flared at the smallest things, though he kept his rage mostly contained. In public, he was the picture of perfection, a charming businessman with a beautiful wife at his side. But beneath the surface, his mask was slipping, and there were those who could see right through it.

At the ceremony, as they mingled with the city's elite, Elena couldn't help but notice **Alexander's best friend**, **Ethan**, standing off to the side, watching Marcus with a sharp, calculating gaze. Ethan had known the brothers for years, and while he and Marcus were cordial in public, there was no love lost between them. Ethan saw Marcus for what he truly was—a petty, jealous man who hid behind a carefully constructed facade of success.

When Marcus approached to exchange pleasantries, Ethan's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Marcus," he greeted coolly, his tone dripping with subtle disdain. "It's been a while."

"Ethan," Marcus replied, forcing a tight smile. "Always a pleasure."

As the two men exchanged words, Elena could feel the tension between them. Ethan had never trusted Marcus, and over the years, that mistrust had grown into something more. He had always been protective of Alexander, and he saw through Marcus's carefully crafted image.

"You must be proud of Alexander," Ethan said, his voice smooth but laced with an edge. "Being honored like this—quite the accomplishment. It's no wonder he's always been admired."

Marcus's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "Yes, he's done well for himself," he replied, though his voice was tight. "We're all very proud."

Ethan's gaze flicked to Elena, his expression softening slightly. "And you, Elena? How are you holding up?"

She managed a small smile, though she could feel Marcus's eyes on her, watching her every move. "I'm fine, thank you."

Ethan's eyes lingered on her for a moment, as if he could see the truth behind her words. He nodded, but his gaze flickered back to Marcus, a silent warning in his eyes. Ethan knew something was wrong—he had known for a long time—and though he didn't say it aloud, his presence alone was enough to unsettle Marcus.

As the evening wore on, Marcus's anger simmered beneath the surface, held in check only by the public setting. But Elena knew that once they were behind closed doors, the mask would slip, and the fury would come pouring out.

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