Elara walked down the cold, narrow service hallway back toward the lively noise of Julian's penthouse party. Each step was fueled by a deep, unsettling realization. Julian Vance was a killer, a predator, and a liar who had ruined a man named Alistair Chen. But Seraphina was heading into a harmful, legal trap—a trap of her own making. Her desperate attempt to steal the asset would only confirm the transfer of the Thorne Gallery proxy to the Elara Foundation, placing it firmly under Julian's control.
Elara needed to warn someone, and strangely, Julian was the quickest way to avoid disaster. He needed the wedding to go smoothly. Seraphina had to be stopped before she could execute her plan. Julian's goals matched the need to stop Seraphina, even if his reasons came from self-interest.
Elara found him where she had left him: in the middle of the penthouse, surrounded by a group of attentive associates, his arm resting possessively around Seraphina's waist. Seraphina, having shed her earlier panic on the balcony, now appeared bright and focused entirely on the clock.
Elara waited for the small crowd to break up before approaching. Julian noticed her and immediately shifted from public financier to private conspirator.
"Elara," he greeted her, his voice low and tinged with genuine curiosity. "You seem like you've just seen a major market correction. Is the champagne list really that bad? "
Seraphina forced a laugh. "Ignore my sister, Julian. She finds all joy irritating after 10 PM." She shot Elara a sharp look. "If you're tired, Elara, just go home. I need Julian to finish introducing me to his fund manager."
"I need to speak with Julian, Seraphina," Elara interrupted, her voice firm as she disregarded her sister. "It's about the rehearsal timing. It's important."
Seraphina narrowed her eyes, but Julian gently squeezed her waist, silently asking for patience. "Excuse us, darling. Art requires delicate consideration." He smoothly moved away from Seraphina and directed Elara toward a large, curtained window overlooking the city.
The window provided privacy, but the glass acted like a mirror, reflecting their silhouettes: the towering, composed billionaire and the smaller, determined woman standing too close to him.
"What's on your mind, Elara? Is the 'Ticking' finally getting to you? "Julian?" he asked, his voice returning to its low, intimate tone.
Elara took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. She couldn't reveal Leo's name or the safe combination without putting her sister in danger. She needed to gauge the depth of Julian's knowledge.
"It's about Seraphina," Elara began, keeping her gaze on the glass and their shared reflection. "I saw her tonight. She's acting strangely. Yes, she's stressed, but this goes beyond typical wedding jitters."
Julian leaned against the window frame, his arms crossed casually, exuding patience. "Go on."
"She's looking for a way to escape this marriage," Elara said, pushing forward with her main claim. "She has been seeing someone. I believe she plans to leave you at the altar or shortly before, trying to take something with her. You need to understand that your plan is at risk."
Julian stayed silent for a long moment, simply observing her. He showed no anger, betrayal, or fear. He didn't even flinch. His lack of reaction was the most unsettling sign of his control.
"So, Seraphina is having an affair? Seeing someone? " Julian finally replied, his tone completely devoid of concern, as if discussing a minor antique. "That is entirely possible, Elara. Seraphina thrives on drama and the thrill of the forbidden. I believe she had a brief fling with a gallery assistant a few months ago. It's her way of managing stress."
He waved his hand dismissively. "I assure you, Elara, the thought of losing me—and the power and resources I represent—is far more frightening to your sister than any temporary attachment to a distraction."
He showed no interest in the emotional betrayal, focusing only on financial leverage. He dismissed Seraphina's plotting as mere rebellion, something he had already calculated.
"But what if it jeopardizes the wedding? " Elara pressed. "If she runs or causes a scandal, the legal framework collapses, just as you warned."
A slow, confident smile spread across Julian's face, one that expressed absolute assurance.
"Seraphina Thorne will walk down that aisle, Elara. Because she knows, deep down, that failing to do so carries a much higher cost than marrying me," he stated, his voice a quiet claim of ownership. "She needs that signature more than she needs freedom. You overestimate her bravery and underestimate my leverage."
He had failed her test. He didn't admit to knowing everything, but his cold indifference confirmed that Seraphina's entire plan, including the white rose signal, was likely already neutralized or, worse, being used by him.
He pushed away from the window and moved closer to her, trapping her between his body and the glass. The focus shifted back to their intense, intimate bubble.
"What I find intriguing, Elara," he murmured, searching her eyes, "is your deep concern. You're taking a significant risk to tell me this, violating your sister's trust to warn me about my potential embarrassment."
He reached out, gently tracing her shoulder, brushing away the guilt she carried. "I thought you hated me. That you saw me only as a ruthless man who exploited a broken-hearted artist to gain access to an old family asset."
"I'm trying to protect the gallery," Elara replied, her voice strained.
"No," he contradicted softly, pulling her slightly closer. "You're protecting me. You worry about my timeline. You worry about my downfall because somewhere inside that brilliant, guarded heart, you care about my survival."
His insight was a painful truth. She cared, not about Julian Vance, the business mogul, but about the vulnerable, wounded man who had kissed her and shown her the cracks in his life.
He didn't wait for her to deny it. He lowered his head, not for another demanding kiss, but for something more tender and possessive. He softly pressed his lips against her temple.
"Thank you, Elara," he whispered against her skin, the sound echoing in her mind. "Thank you for caring about me. It's the greatest gift you could have given me tonight."
Then he straightened, his eyes regaining their cold, composed look. He let go of her and turned away, his gaze locked on the sparkling city lights, a landscape he owned and controlled. His final words came in an almost clinical tone, confirming Elara's fear that everything, including her desperate warning, had been anticipated.
"The timeline is perfect," Julian said, almost to himself. "Soon, I will have exactly what I came for."