Chapter 3: Meeting With Julian
1028 Words
The heavy scent of bleach and cheap linoleum always made Ciara's stomach turn. She sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair in the hospital hallway, her head resting against the wall. It was 6:00 a.m. She hadn't slept a wink.
After leaving the psycho billionaire's penthouse, her mind kept reeling. It was a lot to take in. Everything was.
"Miss Vance?"
Ciara snapped her eyes open. Dr. Evans was walking toward her, pulling off his spectacles with a weary sigh.
"How is he, Doctor?" Ciara stood up quickly, her joints aching from the long night.
"Stable for now," Dr. Evans said, offering a compassionate but grim smile. "But the administration is pushing back. If the account isn't cleared by noon, we'll have to transfer him to the state facility downtown. I'm sorry, Ciara. I know you're trying your best, but the ICU equipment is incredibly expensive to run."
Ciara swallowed the lump in her throat, her fist clenching around the strap of her thrifted purse.
"I'll have the money. I promise. Just give me until noon."
As the doctor walked away, Ciara checked her cracked phone screen.
No calls.
No messages.
Had Alexandier Sterling changed his mind? Had her sharp mouth pushed the intimidating tycoon too far? She had torn his contract, smacked him on the head, and even tried to walk out of his penthouse to protect her dignity. But dignity couldn't pay for her father's oxygen machine.
Exhausted, Ciara took the bus back to her cramped, run-down apartment complex on the city's outskirts. The sky was a gloomy gray, reflecting her mood.
"What a life," Ciara sighed softly.
As she rounded the corner onto her street, she froze.
A sleek, midnight-black Mercedes-Maybach was parked illegally right in front of her dilapidated building. Standing next to it was a man in a gray suit, smoking a cigarette.
He wasn't Marcus. This man looked younger, with a chaotic, arrogant smirk and eyes that held nothing but trouble.
It was Julian Sterling—Alexandier's ruthless cousin.
Ciara kept her expression blank, squaring her shoulders as she approached her front steps.
Just one meeting with a billionaire, and now she was running into billionaires left and right.
"You're blocking the fire hydrant, suit. And if you're looking for a kidney to steal, you've got the wrong neighborhood."
Julian turned, his smirk widening as he looked her up and down.
"Ciara Vance. You're even sharper in person than you are on the gala security footage. I must admit, my cousin usually has a better taste in luxury, but I suppose he went for utility this time."
Ciara closed the distance between them.
"If you're here to pitch a comedy routine, give up and find someone else. But if you're here for Alexandier, he isn't hiding in my mailbox. Now move along."
"Oh, I'm here for you, sweetheart," Julian said, tossing his cigarette butt onto the ground and crushing it beneath his leather shoe.
He walked up to her, invading her personal space. Unlike Alexandier, whose presence felt like a heavy, commanding weight, Julian's aura just felt slimy.
"I can see through the little game you and Alexandier are trying to play. Vivienne told me how he had his hands all over your waist last night. Just so you know, he's desperate to satisfy Grandfather's will, and he's willing to use a low-life nobody to do it."
Ciara didn't blink.
"Okay, I don't know what fairy tales your plastic friend is spinning, but I crashed a gala to get my portfolio back. Anything else is your own-twisted imagination."
"Is it?"
Julian reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a thick, heavy envelope packed with stacks of crisp hundred-dollar bills.
"Let's skip the foreplay, Ciara."
Ciara raised a brow. She was surprised that he knew her name, but she masked her shock well.
"Alexandier offered you money to play his blushing bride, right? Whatever he's paying you, I'll double it. Right now. All you have to do is sign a small affidavit stating that Alexandier Sterling kidn*pped you, forced you into his office, and attempted to blackmail you into a sham marriage to fool the board."
Ciara stared at the envelope of cash.
It was easily fifty thousand dollars—more than enough to clear her father's current hospital debt and buy her time.
Julian saw her hesitation and grinned like a hyena.
"Think about it. You get the cash, you ruin an arrogant tyrant, and you walk away clean. If you want, I can double the money. What do you say?"
Ciara looked from the money to Julian's smug face. She let out a soft, sweet smile as she stepped closer to him.
"Wow. Double the money? That is... an incredibly generous offer."
"I'm a generous guy," Julian purred, leaning in.
"Just one question," Ciara murmured, her voice dripping with mock innocence. "Does your brain completely stop working when you open your wallet, or were you just born this stupid? My sweet Jesus."
Julian's smirk vanished. "What?"
"If I sign an affidavit accusing the most powerful CEO in the city of k********g, his legal team will have me sued into oblivion before sunset," Ciara fired back, her sharp mouth cutting him down to size. "You don't want to help me. You want to use me as a human shield to steal your cousin's position. I might be broke, whatever your name is, but I am not an i***t. Take your dirty self, your money, and get out of my neighborhood before I find out if this thrifty dress is sturdy enough to kick you down the stairs."
"You little ungrateful b***h," Julian hissed, his face scrunching with rage as he raised a hand and stepped toward her threateningly. "You think Alexandier cares about you? He will chew you up and—"
"Touch her, Julian, and I will personally ensure your hands are surgically removed from your wrists."
The deep, raspy baritone cut through the morning air like a sword.
Both Ciara and Julian snapped their heads toward the voice.
A massive armored black SUV had pulled up several feet behind Julian's Maybach.
Aexandier Sterling stood a few steps away from them.
- Writer
