CHAPTER 5
1249 Words
Julian’s Pov
The room buzzed with chaos after that reporter’s question, but my mind had already
sharpened into steel.
Whoever was behind this little stunt thought they could shake me, expose Victoria, or
both.
They were wrong.
Victoria’s face had gone pale, her grip on her clutch tight enough to strangle it. Her
body stiffened, but she didn’t answer.
That was smart.
I stepped in, blocking the reporter’s view of her, and cut the conference short with a cold
smile.
“Questions will be addressed in due time,” I said smoothly. “For now, you’ve had your
headline.”
The crowd erupted again, but security swarmed quickly, ushering us offstage. Victoria
shot me a look that could have killed me on the spot, but I ignored it.
Let her rage, let her plot. At the end of the day, she would wear my ring, and that was
all anyone would remember.
By the time I returned to my office, the photograph had already spread online. My phone
buzzed with nonstop alerts—notifications, calls, emails. Everyone wanted a statement but
none of that mattered and that was when Sandra Vale stormed into my office.
Sandra.
She wore fury like perfume, choking the air the moment she entered. Her red dress clung
to her body in a way that screamed desperation more than allure, and her manicured nails
clicked against her clutch as she set it on my desk like she was placing a weapon.
“Tell me this is a joke,” she snapped. “Julian, tell me you’re not actually marrying that
bitch.”
I leaned back in my chair, deliberately calm, deliberately unbothered. “Hello to you too,
Sandra.”
Her eyes blazed. “Don’t you dare play with me. I saw it, Julian. I saw you on stage,
kissing her, calling her your fiancée. Do you think I’m stupid?”
I gave her a thin smile. “On the contrary, you’re many things, but stupid isn’t one of
them. You know better than anyone that everything I do has a purpose.”
Her voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper. “Purpose? That witch doesn’t deserve
you. She’s not like us. She will never understand you the way I do.”
There it was.
The same song, the same obsession. Sandra Vale had once been a convenient distraction, a
way to burn out boredom but fire left ash, and she never seemed to understand when she
had been reduced to dust.
I folded my hands on the desk. “You misunderstand, Sandra. This isn’t about deserving.
It’s about leverage. Victoria Hale is useful to me. That’s all that matters.”
Sandra’s lips curled into a snarl. “Useful? You’re telling me you would throw me aside
for her? After everything?”
I raised a brow. “After everything? You mean the parties, the scandals, the messes I had
to clean up every time your temper flared?”
Her eyes flashed with humiliation. “You used to love that about me. You used to love me.”
“Love?” I chuckled darkly. “Don’t rewrite history, Sandra. You were never anything
more than a distraction.”
The words cut deep.
I saw it in the way her expression faltered, the way her hands trembled against her clutch but anger, which was her oldest companion, rushed back to replace the hurt.
“You’ll regret this,” she hissed. “That little empire of yours, Saint Clair Group, Hale
Enterprises, it will burn and I’ll be the one holding the f*****g match.”
I stood, slowly, deliberately, closing the distance between us. My height made her look
short, and I tilted my head just enough to make her feel the weight of my gaze.
“Careful, Sandra,” I said softly. “Threats don’t suit you. They make you sloppy and
sloppy people… disappear.”
She shivered.
Her smile twisted, brittle and manic. “You think you can scare me? No, Julian. You
need me. You’ve always needed me. That b***h will never last. She’ll crumble under your
control, and when she does, you’ll come crawling back.”
Her laughter came next, Sandra Vale had always been like a mirror cracked down the
middle, you could still see your reflection, but only in fragments that cut.
“I built you,” she hissed, stepping closer. “All those nights whispering in your ear,
giving you names, giving you connections. I gave you everything and you’re going to throw
it away for her?”
I let her words wash over me like rain. Sandra liked to believe she’d built me, but I’d only
ever taken what was offered. “You gave me access,” I said, voice like ice. “Not power. I
already had that.”
Her fingers twitched at her side. “Liar.”
I pitied her, almost. “This is over, Sandra.”
But she didn’t leave. She moved around the desk instead, slow and deliberate, until she
was standing in front of me. “You don’t mean it,” she murmured, her voice softer now,
coaxing. “You’re angry, that’s all. You’ve always been angry but I know you, Julian,
better than anyone. You don’t want her. You want me.”
It should have sounded pathetic or annoyed me. Instead, it stirred something inside me.
Sandra’s perfume rose up, its familiar scent which was a blend of jasmine and smoke
filled my nostrils as memories flickered through my head.
The night when we forgot about everything. When Sandra would do anything to hear me
moan her name.
I told myself to step back, to shut it down but I didn’t.
Sandra sensed the shift immediately. Her lips curved into a slow smile. “That’s it,” she
whispered. “That’s the man I know.”
She reached up, brushing her thumb against my jaw, tilting my head slightly. Her touch
was electric and infuriating at the same time. “You’re lying to yourself,” she said.
“About her, about all this. You can’t let go of me. You don’t even know how.”
My hands closed around her wrists before I realized it, holding her in place.
“Sandra……..”
She kissed me.
It wasn’t gentle. It was a collision, a storm. It was everything she had ever been. My
control withers away as I let out a moan inside her mouth.
I told myself it didn’t matter, that I was still in control. That this was just another move
on the board but my grip on her tightened.
Her nails slid into my shirt, dragging me closer. She tasted like a memory I should have
buried long ago.
The office door opened.
We heard a click, then it paused.
Sandra pulled back first, smirking, but her eyes flicked to the doorway.
I turned, still holding her wrist, and saw Victoria standing there.
She wasn’t looking pale now, she looked calm, too calm. “Don’t stop on my account,” she
said quietly.
And then she lifted a thin folder from her bag, tossed it onto my desk, and walked out
without another word.
Sandra’s smirk faltered. My stomach turned to stone.
On the folder, in bold black letters, was a single word: “Financing.”
The Hale Enterprises financing deal.
It was the one Victoria wasn’t supposed to know existed.
What was she doing with it?
“Who gave that to you?” I asked, my heart on the verge of exploding.
- Writer
