"So it’s true," she said, finally looking up at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her expression a mask of betrayal. "You knew. You knew the whole time that I was living here on your family’s charity. That when I was selling my scarves in the market to pay the taxes, I was paying them on a building that belonged to you."
"It didn't belong to me," Julian said, stepping toward her, his hands outstretched. "It belonged to the firm. When I found the deed in the archives a year and a half ago, I was horrified. My grandfather had kept it a secret because he respected your father too much to ever evict him. He let the debt sit there, silent, because he loved the work your family did."
"And you?" she hissed. "Why didn't you say something when I was ready to lose everything to keep this place? Wh
