A Calculated Risk
306 Words
The sting of Madam Vane’s words lingered long after she swept away. Elara felt a surge of genuine anger. She wasn't just a prop; she was a person with a spine.
"Your grandmother is lovely," Elara said dryly, reaching for a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. "I can see where you get your warmth."
Julian took the glass from her hand before she could sip it. "Don't drink to numb the nerves. It makes you sloppy."
"I'm not sloppy, Julian. I'm insulted." She stepped out of his personal space, finally putting a few inches between them. "I’m doing this for my father, but I didn't sign up to be a punching bag for your family’s elitism."
A flicker of amusement—or was it respect?—passed through Julian’s grey eyes. Before he could respond, a man with a charming, lopsided grin approached them. Marcus Tan, Julian’s biggest rival in the shipping industry.
"Vane," Marcus nodded, but his eyes were locked on Elara. "You’ve been hiding the most beautiful thing in the room. Aren't you going to introduce us?"
Julian’s entire posture shifted. He didn't just look cold anymore; he looked dangerous. He reached out and pulled Elara back against his side, his arm draping over her shoulder in a possessive arc.
"Marcus. I thought you were in Shanghai," Julian said, his voice dropping into a low growl.
"I came back for the view," Marcus countered, winking at Elara. "Is it true, then? The Ice King has finally melted for a commoner?"
The air between the two men turned electric. Elara realized she was the rope in a very expensive tug-of-war.
"She isn't a commoner," Julian said, his gaze fixed on Marcus but his words meant for the whole room. "She’s mine. And I suggest you remember that before you look at her again."
- Writer
