Chapter 7
Elara flinched, her gaze freezing as she understood the implication. The old wound gaped open again. She felt slapped. Adrian’s words always had the power to pierce her defenses, to remind her of the humiliation she felt when she woke up alone after that night.
“You’re a coward,” Elara hissed, her lips trembling. “You always hide behind rules and numbers. You’re afraid of things you can’t control, aren’t you?”
Adrian’s jaw clenched. “And you let your heart lead far too often, Elara. That doesn’t last long in the business world, let alone in a crueler one.”
Baskara cleared his throat, trying to steer them away from the personal explosion. “Alright, alright. We’re way off topic. Regarding the organic silk vendor, I’ve already contacted them. They’re willing to review the schedule, but there’s a significant penalty clause if we can’t make a partial payment within the next three days.”
Adrian frowned. “Three days? That’s impossible. Our finance division will need time to process it. Especially after this email incident. Procedures will be tightened.”
“Then we can use Kencana Mode’s emergency funds to cover part of it for now,” Elara offered, her voice still tense but with an emerging note of pragmatism. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “We can treat it as a temporary loan. We can’t lose this vendor. Their silk is the key to our ‘Web of Life’ concept.”
Adrian looked at Elara with a hint of surprise. He hadn’t expected her to offer a solution that involved her own company’s money. It was a… professional move, and a surprising one, given how heated their debate had been.
“A temporary loan?” Adrian repeated, trying to find a flaw in her offer. “How are you going to explain this to the Kencana Mode board of directors? You know they won’t be happy about you using reserve funds for a joint project with Mahesa.”
“That’s my problem,” Elara answered firmly. “I’ll take responsibility. But the Mahesa Group has to show the same commitment. You need to expedite the approval and payment of the remainder in less than a week. If not, I will pull out of this project, and we both know what that means for our inheritance.”
The threat hung in the air, heavy and real. It was the first time Elara had directly referenced the consequences of their grandfather’s will, moving beyond ego or business rivalry. Adrian looked at her, searching for any trace of a bluff or manipulation, but all he found was a steely resolve mixed with a palpable exhaustion in her eyes.
He remembered Baskara’s words from the night before. “You can’t keep treating Elara like the enemy, Adrian. Your grandfather wouldn’t have wanted that. He wanted you to work together, to find a way.”
Baskara leaned forward. “I think that’s a fair offer, Adrian. It allows us to catch up and show Grandfather we’re serious. It will also send a positive signal to the Mahesa board that we’re taking the initiative to solve problems, not create them.”
Adrian’s gaze shifted from Elara to Baskara, then back to the financial reports on his desk. He weighed the risks and benefits. Elara’s offer could indeed save the project from bigger losses and avoid a more painful penalty. But it also meant he would have to admit that Elara had a valid solution, which would require him to concede.
His throat felt tight. Concede to Elara? It went against every principle he’d held for years. But the threat of their grandfather’s will was no joke. And there was something in Elara’s gaze just now—that exhaustion and determination—that chipped away at the icy shield around his heart.
“Fine,” Adrian finally said, his voice low and raspy. “I’ll instruct the finance division to prioritize this. Baskara, you monitor the process and make sure there are no unnecessary bureaucratic hurdles. But, Elara…” He paused, looking at her again. “If there’s one more ‘mistake’ like this, or if the funds you lend aren’t reimbursed on schedule, you’ll be dealing with me personally, and I guarantee you won’t like it.”
Elara nodded, her expression still tense but with a flicker of relief she couldn’t hide. “You have my word, Adrian. And I have yours. Don’t you try any more games with ‘forgetting’ or ‘missending’ important emails. We were lucky this time. Next time, we might not be.”
She turned to leave the room, but Adrian called out to her. “Elara.”
She stopped at the threshold, not turning around completely, just tilting her head slightly.
“What did you mean by a ‘crueler world’ earlier?” Adrian asked, his voice returning to its usual cold tone, but with a hidden curiosity beneath it.
Elara finally turned, her gaze meeting his. A bitter smile touched her lips. “A world where promises are easily made and even more easily forgotten. A world where someone you trust can disappear without a trace, leaving you with nothing but unanswered questions.”
The words were like poisoned arrows that pierced Adrian’s defenses. He knew exactly what she meant. Memories of that night came flooding back, clearer than ever. The scent of jasmine, the warmth of Elara’s touch, her uninhibited laughter—and the cruel decision he had forced upon himself the next morning. Adrian wanted to answer, to explain, but the words were caught in his throat. He could only watch as Elara turned and walked out of the room, leaving him and Baskara in a suffocating silence.
Baskara looked at Adrian, his expression knowing. “This isn't just about the email, is it, Adrian? You two have unfinished history.”
Adrian just shook his head, massaging his temples. “That’s none of your business, Baskara. Just focus on recovering from this loss. Make sure there are no more ‘accidents.’ I’ll be monitoring all outgoing and incoming emails from now on.”
“Of course,” Baskara sighed. “But maybe if you talked to her more often instead of fighting, problems like this wouldn’t happen.”
Adrian didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the door Elara had just closed. Her words spun in his mind: You’re a coward. You’re afraid of things you can’t control. Was she right? Was this whole persona, all this rigidity, just a fortress against his greatest fear—losing control, just like he did that night?
On the other side of the city, Elara arrived at the Kencana Mode office, her heart still racing. She went straight to the design room, where Rina was waiting for her with a worried expression. The room was filled with colorful sketches, piles of fabrics in various textures, and the strong aroma of coffee. A stark contrast to Adrian’s sterile office.
“So, how did it go?” Rina asked, handing Elara a warm cup of coffee. “Did the ice bastard finally agree to back down?”
Elara took a sip of the coffee, its bitterness matching her mood. “He agreed, with all his veiled threats and curses. I have to use Kencana Mode’s emergency funds to cover part of the vendor’s bill first.”
Rina winced. “Seriously? God, Elara, that’s a huge risk. Our board will have a fit if they find out.”
“I know,” Elara sighed, leaning against her work table. “But I had no choice, Rina. We can’t lose that vendor. Their organic silk is the backbone of the ‘Web of Life’ concept. And… I don’t want this project to fail.”
“Not because of the inheritance, right?” Rina nudged her gently. “But because of Grandfather Subroto.”
Elara closed her eyes. “Yeah, because of Grandfather. He… he really believed in us. He knew Adrian and I could create something extraordinary if we worked together. He always said so.”
“And you believe that, too, don’t you?” Rina asked softly, touching Elara’s arm. “I see it in your eyes, Elara. Even in the middle of all that anger, you know he has potential. And he knows you do, too. That’s why you’re both so stubborn.”