Eliana POV:
I stood in the blinding California sun, my eyes locked on the white USPS truck slowly crawling down the pristine driveway of my family's estate.
I took a slow, deep breath. The air tasted like dry heat and jasmine. For three years, every breath I took had been shallow, measured, and carefully calculated so I wouldn't take up too much space in Jax's world. The suffocation had become my normal.
Today, my lungs finally expanded to their full capacity.
The postal truck groaned to a halt by the curb. A mailman in a sweat-stained blue uniform stepped out, holding a thick, rigid envelope. My heart kicked against my ribs.
Before I could take a step forward, the screech of tires tore through the quiet neighborhood.
A sleek black Porsche swerved violently, stopping mere inches from the postal truck's rear bumper. The driver's door swung open. Jax stepped out.
His jaw was clenched tight, and his dark eyebrows were pulled together in that signature look of annoyed impatience. He walked toward me with the heavy, entitled strides of a billionaire heir who expected the world to part for him. He hated having his schedule interrupted. He hated anything he couldn't control.
"Delivery for Eliana," the mailman said, checking the address on the clipboard. He held out the envelope. It had the bold purple torch logo of New York University stamped in the corner.
Jax's hand shot out. He snatched the envelope right out of the mailman's grip before I could even raise my arm.
"Hey," the mailman muttered, stepping back.
Jax didn't look at him. His eyes scanned the return address, and I watched the muscles in his neck instantly go rigid. The annoyance on his face morphed into a dark, suffocating storm.
"New York University?" Jax's voice was a low, dangerous rumble. He took a step toward me, his tall frame casting a shadow over my face. "Why the hell are you applying to schools on the East Coast behind my back?"
I didn't flinch. I didn't scramble to explain myself, and I didn't apologize. The urge to appease him was completely gone, replaced by a hollow, ringing silence.
I simply held out my hand. "Give it back, Jax."
He let out a harsh laugh, holding the envelope high above my head. It was a physical reminder of his power, his height, his absolute certainty that he owned me.
"Is this your new game?" he sneered, his eyes flashing with arrogant disbelief. "You're throwing a tantrum over Catalina, so you apply to some school across the country just to get my attention? It's pathetic, Eliana. Grow up."
A cold smile touched my lips. I dropped my hand. I didn't even want to touch him to fight for it.
Before I could speak, his phone vibrated in his pocket.
The ringtone was custom. A soft, acoustic melody. Catalina's ringtone.
Jax pulled his phone out. The anger in his eyes instantly dissolved, replaced by a frantic, helpless urgency. He swiped the screen. "Catalina? What's wrong?"
I stood there and listened. I could hear her high-pitched, breathless sobbing through the receiver.
"Jax... I can't breathe," Catalina gasped, her voice thick with manufactured panic. "My asthma... I can't find my inhaler. Please, I'm scared."
Jax's chest heaved. Panic flared in his eyes. "Hold on. Just breathe. I'm five minutes away. I'm coming right now."
He hung up. He looked at me, searching my face. He was waiting for the jealousy. He was waiting for my eyes to well up with tears, for my voice to crack as I begged him not to leave me for her again.
I gave him nothing. My face was a mask of absolute indifference. I even took a deliberate step back, putting more physical distance between us.
The coldness in my eyes seemed to hit him like a physical blow. A flicker of confusion crossed his face. He didn't understand this script.
Frustrated, he threw the NYU envelope onto the manicured grass.
"Stop throwing this ridiculous temper tantrum," he snapped, pointing a finger at me. "I don't have time for your childish games right now. I'll deal with you when I get back."
He turned his back on me and marched to the Porsche. He didn't look back once.
The heavy car door slammed shut. The engine roared, a violent, tearing sound that shattered the peace of the wealthy street. The Porsche shot forward like a bullet, leaving behind a cloud of exhaust and the faint scent of burning rubber.
I watched the taillights disappear around the corner. The very last thread of attachment I held for that man snapped cleanly in two. I didn't feel sad. I felt incredibly light.
I walked over to the grass and bent down. I picked up the thick envelope. A smear of dirt stained the white paper. I used my thumb to gently wipe the dust off the NYU crest, tracing the letters like they were a lifeline.
The mailman stood awkwardly by his truck, holding out his electronic scanner. "Uh, I still need a signature, miss."
"Of course," I said smoothly.
I took the stylus. I didn't hesitate. I pressed the pen to the screen and signed my full name with sharp, deliberate strokes.
"Congratulations on getting in," the mailman smiled gently, taking the scanner back. He climbed into his truck and drove away.
I held the envelope against my chest. I turned around and walked toward the heavy oak doors of my house. I stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind me, locking the past outside.
"This is the best coming-of-age gift I've ever received."
