Chapter 8
Elara opened her eyes, gazing at the dress sketches pinned to the vision board. “That potential is buried under an ego the size of a mountain, Rina. I don’t know how to break through it anymore.”
“Maybe you don’t have to break through it. Maybe you just need to remind him of something bigger than his ego,” Rina suggested. “Grandfather Subroto, for instance. Or… that night.”
Elara snorted. “That night was just a mistake. A moment of weakness that he exploited and then just walked away from. He practically called me impulsive and emotional himself.”
“He called you impulsive because he’s scared of what you make him feel,” Rina countered. “You should have seen his face earlier, Elara, when you mentioned a world where promises are easily made and forgotten. He flinched. I swear, he could barely hide it.”
Elara rolled her eyes. “You’ve been watching too many K-dramas, Rina.”
“Maybe,” Rina chuckled. “But I also see Adrian’s eyes the same way I see yours. There’s something unfinished between you. And I think your grandfather knew exactly what he was doing when he forced you two to work together like this.”
Elara fell into thought. Adrian’s words, his gaze—there was something different about them today. A nearly invisible crack. Could Rina be right? Could Adrian, behind his icy mask, be nursing the same wound she was? Or was that just her own foolish hope, a remnant of a passionate night she had tried so hard to bury?
“Anyway,” Elara sighed, trying to get back to work. “We need to prepare a new draft for the opening collection designs immediately. The other vendors will be waiting. And we can’t afford any more delays. This project has to stay on schedule, flawlessly.”
“Of course,” Rina nodded. “I’ve already prepared some alternative materials, just in case the organic silk is still delayed. And a few backup concepts, just to be safe. We can’t rely on the Mahesa Group to just keep their word.”
Elara looked at Rina, a small smile appearing on her lips. “Thank you, Rina. You’re a lifesaver.”
“That’s what best friends are for, right?” Rina smiled back. “But seriously, Elara. You two can’t go on like this. These little acts of sabotage might have been fun at first, but now they’re hurting the project. And that will… it’s no joke.”
Elara sighed. “I know. I just… don’t know how to stop it. Every time I try to be professional, Adrian manages to provoke me. It’s like he’s intentionally looking for a fight.”
“Or it’s like he’s feeling the same way you are, and this is the only way he knows how to get your attention,” Rina muttered, more to herself.
Elara didn’t respond, too lost in her own thoughts. She looked at a sketch of a gown in front of her. A cocktail dress with a classic Mahesa silhouette, but with bold, hand-embroidered accents typical of Kencana Mode. It was one of the first sketches she had made for the charity project, an attempt to merge two contrasting styles. Now, the dress felt like a metaphor for her relationship with Adrian. Could two things so different truly merge into something beautiful? Or would one always have to dominate the other?
The next few days passed in a simmering tension. The Mahesa Group did indeed expedite its financial process, and the partial payment to the organic silk vendor was approved. However, communication between Adrian and Elara remained dominated by formal emails and frigid meetings. Every interaction felt like they were walking on eggshells, ready to shatter at any moment.
Elara had spent most of her time with Rina and her design team, reinforcing the ‘Web of Life’ concept to make it more robust and less susceptible to sabotage. She also proactively sought out backup vendors and alternative production lines, unwilling to be wholly dependent on a single source again, especially one she had to share with Adrian.
Meanwhile, Adrian, secretly feeling guilty about the “email incident,” forced himself to work even harder. He not only oversaw the finances but also began reviewing every logistical detail of the charity project, from the selection of the fashion show venue to the VIP guest list. Baskara, who suspected something more than mere “guilt” was driving Adrian, could only observe from a distance.
One afternoon, as Elara was reviewing fabric samples in her office, her phone rang. The name “Mr. Tirtayasa” was on the screen. A small shiver of dread ran down her spine. The family lawyer rarely called unless there was a serious problem.
“Hello, Mr. Tirtayasa?” Elara answered, her voice slightly tense.
“Elara, I hope I’m not disturbing you,” Mr. Tirtayasa’s voice was calm, but there was a serious undertone that made Elara uneasy. “I have an update regarding the charity project. There are some urgent obstacles we need to discuss immediately. I’ve already contacted Adrian as well. Can you both come to my office tomorrow morning at nine?”
Elara’s heart pounded. “What kind of obstacles, sir? Is there a problem with the budget? Or perhaps another vendor?”
Mr. Tirtayasa sighed. “I’m afraid it’s far more complex than that, Elara. There are… indications of a more structured sabotage. And this isn’t just about a ‘forgotten’ email. This involves an outside party.”
Elara’s eyes widened. An outside party? All this time she had been blaming Adrian for every problem, and he had been blaming her. The thought made her feel slightly sick. If a third party was trying to take them down, it meant… all their arguments and petty sabotage had been a distraction from the real enemy.
“An outside party?” Elara repeated, her brain struggling to process the information. “Who? And what have they done?”
“That is what I will explain tomorrow,” Mr. Tirtayasa replied, his voice now firmer. “I cannot discuss it over the phone. What’s clear is that this is a serious threat to our project, and to the entire legacy of Grandfather Subroto. I suggest you both come with an open mind. And Elara, for tomorrow, please set aside any and all of your disagreements with Adrian. The future of this project, and perhaps the future of your companies, rests in both of your hands.”
The line went dead, leaving Elara in a bewildered silence. Her heart was still racing. A more structured sabotage? An outside party? Could there be someone else who wanted them to fail? And if so, who?
Her mind immediately jumped to Damar, a distant cousin who had long felt it was unfair he wasn’t mentioned in their grandfather’s will. He was known for being cunning and greedy. A bad feeling crept over Elara. If Damar was really involved, then the stakes this time were much higher than just Adrian’s ego or her own vision.
She picked up her phone, her finger hovering hesitantly over Adrian’s name in her contacts. She wanted to call him, to demand an explanation, to share her worries. But her pride stopped her. She couldn’t show any weakness in front of Adrian, not after everything they had been through. She decided to wait until tomorrow, at Mr. Tirtayasa’s office.
But the thought kept haunting her. Sabotage from the outside. That meant all this time, the two of them, Adrian and her, had been fighting each other, wasting energy, while the real enemy was hiding in the shadows, ready to strike at any moment. A feeling of horror mixed with guilt washed over her. What if all the “mistakes,” including the missing email, weren’t entirely Adrian’s fault?
She looked at a sketch of a wedding gown she had made with Kencana Mode’s signature design: full of modern batik motifs with Swarovski crystal accents. A design that was meant to be the pinnacle of their collection, a symbol of the “Web of Life” their grandfather had envisioned. She wondered, had Grandfather seen all of this coming? Had he anticipated that his grandchildren would be tested not only by their own egos but also by an enemy from without?
Elara took a deep breath, feeling a heavy weight on her shoulders. Tomorrow would be a decisive day. She knew she had to be prepared to face Adrian, not as a sworn enemy, but as an unexpected ally. An alliance forced upon them by a greater threat.
As the sun began to set behind Jakarta’s tall buildings, casting shades of orange and purple across the skyline, Elara could only stare out the window. A mix of emotions washed over her: anger, fear, and a little… hope. Hope that, in the midst of this chaos, there might be a chance for her and Adrian to finally understand why Grandfather Subroto had been so insistent on them working together.
But a long night lay ahead of her, filled with unanswered questions and a gnawing anxiety. Who was this “outside party”? What did they really want? And could she and Adrian, two opposite poles, truly work together to face this unseen threat, before everything shattered into pieces? A new danger had emerged, and this time, the consequences were far greater than just an inheritance.