Chapter 7 - The Snake in the Grass
The private opera box was draped in heavy red velvet, offering an unobstructed, commanding view of the stage and the glittering tiers of society below.
During the first intermission, while Gabriel was engaged in a quiet conversation with the city’s Mayor near the bar, Clara stepped out onto the private balcony for air.
She leaned her hands against the cool brass railing, closing her eyes as she tried to quiet the persistent thumping of her heart.
“Well, well. Gabriel Thorne certainly upgraded his taste in acquisitions.”
Clara’s eyes snapped open at the sound of a slithery, cultured voice sounding from the shadowed doorway of the box.
A tall man with thinning blonde hair and pale blue eyes stepped onto the balcony, nursing a glass of scotch with a predatory smirk on his face.
Clara recognized him from the financial pages; it was Julian Vance, the younger, rebellious nephew of the Vance-Sterling Media empire Gabriel was trying to buy.
“Mr. Vance,” Clara said coldly, straightening her spine and drawing upon every ounce of resilience she had developed during her years as a server.
“Please, call me Julian,” the man said, invading her personal space by stepping close enough to trap her against the brass railing.
“I was intrigued when I heard Gabriel finally found himself a permanent fixture, but you don't look like his usual Ivy League boardroom trophies.”
His pale eyes dropped to the heavy diamond ring on her finger before trailing slowly, insolently up the length of her blue designer gown.
“Tell me, how much is he paying you to play the loving bride until our board approves his merger offer next month?”
Clara’s blood ran cold, but her facial expression remained completely frozen in a mask of polite, unbothered indifference.
“I have no idea what you are talking about, Julian,” she replied evenly, her voice steady despite the sudden spike of panic in her chest.
“Oh, don't play innocent with me, sweetheart,” Julian sneered, leaning in so close she could smell the cheap alcohol on his breath.
“My family didn't build a three-billion-dollar empire by being blind. Gabriel is using you to sanitize his image for my aunt, but I'm going to dig up whatever rock you crawled from under.”
Before Julian could say another word, a heavy, muscular hand clamped down on his shoulder with enough force to make him gasp in pain.
May you like
Gabriel had materialized from the shadows, his face a terrifying mask of cold, lethal fury as he physically pulled Julian away from her.
“If you ever step within five feet of my fiancée again, Julian,” Gabriel whispered, his voice dropping into a register that promised absolute ruin, “I won't just buy your family’s company. I will dismantle it piece by piece and leave you with nothing.”
