Chapter 6 - The Gala Entrance
Walking into the grand ballroom of the Met on Julian Sterling’s arm was like throwing a bomb into a room full of glass.
The low hum of elite networking instantly evaporated as heads turned toward the entrance, whispers spreading like wildfire among the socialites and executives.
Marcus Vance spilled his champagne onto his cuff as he recognized the woman standing beside Julian, his jaw practically hitting the marble floor.
Chloe from public relations was staring with her mouth open, unable to reconcile the glamorous emerald queen with the drab woman who used to fetch coffee.
Julian’s hand was firm and possessive on the small of Elena’s bare back, guiding her through the crowd with absolute pride.
“Keep your chin high,” he whispered against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the cool ballroom air. “They are staring because they finally see who has been beating them at their own game.”
A rival CEO from Harrison Capital approached them, a predatory smile on his face as his eyes lingered far too long on Elena’s open back.
“Julian,” the man said smoothly, extending a hand. “I didn't realize you had hired a supermodel for your corporate acquisitions.”
Elena didn't wait for Julian to speak; she offered a cool, perfectly manicured smile that didn't reach her eyes.
“I am Director Vance, Mr. Harrison,” she said, her voice ringing with effortless authority. “And if your analysts had spent less time looking at models and more time checking your Q3 debt ratios, you wouldn't have lost the Dubai bid to us on Friday.”
The rival CEO choked on his laughter, his face turning pale as Julian let out a low, genuine laugh of pure enjoyment.
“As you can see, Arthur,” Julian said, pulling Elena just a fraction closer to his side. “My director is lethal in every arena.”
As Arthur Harrison hurried away to save face, Julian turned Elena to face him, his eyes dark with sudden, overwhelming desire.
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“Remind me never to negotiate against you, Ms. Vance,” he murmured, his thumb stroking the bare silk at her waist.
“You couldn't afford me, Julian,” she whispered back, the champagne and the power rushing through her veins like fire.
