Chapter 3: The Uninvited Guest
626 Words
The guest suite was larger than Elara’s entire apartment, filled with silk sheets and floor-to-ceiling windows, but it felt like a tomb. Elara had just finished changing into a simple silk slip dress left for her when a sharp, rhythmic clicking echoed down the hallway.
Click. Click. Click.
The sound of expensive stilettos.
Before Elara could reach the door, it swung open. Standing there was a woman who looked like she had stepped off the cover of a high-fashion magazine. She had sleek raven hair, eyes like emeralds, and a smile that didn't reach her face.
"So," the woman said, her voice dripping with disdain as she scanned Elara’s modest appearance. "This is the 'special project' Julian has been hiding at the estate."
"I’m Elara," Elara said, pulling her shoulders back, refusing to look intimidated. "And you are?"
"Isabella Sterling," the woman replied, stepping into the room without an invitation. "Julian’s fiancée. Or, as the papers call me, the future Queen of the Vane Empire."
Elara’s heart did a strange, painful somersault. Fiancée. Julian hadn't mentioned a fiancée. The contract hadn't mentioned a fiancée.
"You look familiar," Isabella mused, circling Elara like a shark. "Wait... Elara Vance? The girl whose father lost everything in that embezzlement scandal? Oh, darling. From a mansion to a maid? Is that what you’re doing here? Cleaning the floors?"
"I’m not a maid," Elara snapped.
"Then what are you?" Isabella leaned in close, the scent of her cloying perfume filling the air. "Because Julian doesn't keep 'friends.' He keeps assets. And looking at you... you don't look like much of an asset."
"That’s enough, Isabella."
Julian stood in the doorway, his jacket off, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms. His expression was unreadable, but the air in the room suddenly turned freezing.
"Julian, darling!" Isabella changed instantly, her voice turning into honey as she glided toward him. "I decided to surprise you for dinner. I was just meeting your... guest."
Julian didn't look at Isabella. His eyes were locked on Elara, noticing the way she was trembling and the way her knuckles were white from gripping her dress.
"Elara is under my personal protection," Julian said, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "She is not to be disturbed. By anyone. Not even you."
Isabella’s smile flickered. "Protection? From what? She’s a Vance, Julian. You spent years trying to destroy that name. Why is she in your house?"
Julian walked into the room, stepping between the two women. He placed a hand on the small of Elara’s back. The heat of his palm burned through the silk of her dress, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her core.
"She is here because I put her here," Julian said, his gaze dropping to Elara’s lips for a fraction of a second before returning to Isabella. "Now, go to the dining room. I’ll be there in a moment."
Isabella glared at Elara—a look of pure, unadulterated hatred—before spinning on her heel and marching out.
Once she was gone, Julian didn't move his hand. He stepped closer, forcing Elara to look up at him.
"You didn't tell me you were engaged," Elara whispered, her chest heaving.
"It’s a merger, not a marriage," Julian said coldly. "But you need to be careful, Elara. Isabella is a woman who gets what she wants. And right now, she wants to know why I’m looking at you the way I am."
"And how are you looking at me, Julian?"
Julian’s eyes darkened, a flash of raw hunger breaking through his icy mask. He leaned down, his breath warm against her forehead.
"Like I’m wondering if one million dollars was far too little for the trouble you’re going to cause me."
- Writer
