ELARA’S CALL TO JULIAN D’ARGENTO
Elara gripped the steering wheel tightly as she pulled up in front of Julian D’Argento’s grand mansion. She hadn’t wasted any time—Nathan’s schemes could not be allowed to interfere with her plans.
The maid at the entrance gave a polite bow. “I’m sorry, Miss Astor, but Mr. D’Argento hasn’t been home since last night.”
Her brows furrowed. Since last night? Where could Julian have gone? Without hesitation, she pulled out her phone and dialed his number. The line rang once, twice—then connected.
“Julian, where are you?” she asked, her tone laced with urgency.
A pause. His voice came through, calm but distant. “Elara.”
She exhaled. “Listen, don’t believe the news. It’s all a misunderstanding.”
Julian leaned back in his chair, staring at the endless ocean
