Chapter 7: The paper Trail
551 Words
I barely slept. Every creak of the floorboards in the Vane penthouse sounded like a thief returning to finish the job. Who had taken the envelope? Was it Julian playing a psychological game? Or was it one of the silent, stone-faced staff members?
By 8:00 AM, a crisp white suit had been laid out for me. I dressed mechanically, my mind racing. If I acted guilty, Julian would notice. I had to be the perfect fiancée.
The "meeting" wasn't held in a dusty office, but in Julian’s private mahogany-row boardroom. Three lawyers in suits that cost more than my college tuition sat across from us, their laptops open like weapons.
Julian sat at the head of the table, looking effortlessly powerful in a charcoal suit. He didn't look at me as I sat down beside him. He simply slid a thick stack of papers toward me.
"This is the narrative," Julian said coldly. "Read it. Memorize it. The lawyers have crafted a story of a whirlwind romance in Paris. You were there for a writing retreat; I was there for an acquisition. It was 'love at first sight' at a bistro in Montmartre."
I scanned the pages. The detail was incredible—dates, locations, even descriptions of the weather. It was a masterpiece of fiction.
"Paris?" I whispered. "I’ve never even been to France."
"You have now," one of the lawyers, a sharp-featured woman named Sarah, replied. "We’ve already scrubbed your social media. From this moment on, your history starts with Julian. Any questions?"
I looked at Julian. He was watching me with that same unreadable expression. "What happens if someone from my real life speaks up? Someone who knows I wasn't in Paris?"
Julian’s eyes flashed. "My legal team handles 'noise.' Your only job is to be convincing. If you falter, the board sees a gold-digger. If you succeed, they see a man who has finally found a reason to settle down."
I picked up the pen to sign the non-disclosure agreements, but my hand paused. I leaned closer to Julian, lowering my voice so the lawyers couldn't hear. "Someone was in my room last night, Julian. While we were at the gala."
Julian didn't move a muscle, but the air around him seemed to turn freezing. He slowly turned his head to face me. "And? Did they steal your jewelry?"
"No," I breathed. "Something else."
"If it wasn't the Vane diamonds, I don't care," he said, though his eyes told a different story. He leaned in, his shoulder brushing mine. "Unless, of course, you left something lying around that shouldn't exist."
The threat was clear. He knew I was hiding something, and he was letting me know that he wouldn't protect me if my secrets got in the way of his image.
I signed the papers, the ink feeling like a brand on my skin. As the meeting broke up, Sarah, the lead lawyer, walked past me and dropped a small, folded piece of paper on top of my purse.
When I opened it under the table, my heart nearly stopped. It wasn't a legal note.
*The red looks better on you than the emerald,* it read.
I gasped, looking up, but Sarah was already out the door. The red envelope. She had it. Or she knew who did.
- Writer
