Chapter 4 - Behind Closed Doors
The high of their public victory faded the moment the doors of Julian’s triplex penthouse clicked shut behind them.
Clara kicked off her painful designer heels, wincing as she rubbed her arches. Julian shrugged off his tuxedo jacket, pouring himself a double glass of scotch. The silence between them was suddenly thick, charged with an unspoken tension that had been building for two weeks.
“You played your part perfectly tonight,” Julian said, not turning around.
“It wasn't an act,” Clara replied quietly. “Watching her face crumble… it was the first time I’ve felt safe in five years. Thank you, Julian.”
Julian paused, the crystal glass halfway to his lips. He finally turned to look at her. Stripped of the adrenaline of the gala, Clara looked incredibly small standing in the massive, cavernous living room. The crimson dress highlighted the faded yellow edges of the bruise Victoria had left on her cheek weeks ago.
Julian set his glass down. He crossed the room slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. When he stood inches away, Clara’s breath caught in her throat. The scent of cedar and scotch wrapped around her.
He reached out, his long, calloused fingers gently brushing the fading bruise. His touch was shockingly tender for a man known for his cruelty.
“No one will ever strike you again, Clara,” Julian murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. “That is not a clause in a contract. That is a promise from me.”
Clara looked up into his stormy eyes. She had expected a business partner. A cold, calculating machine. But the intensity in his gaze was terrifyingly human. It ignited a spark deep in her chest that had nothing to do with revenge or corporate takeovers.
“Julian…” she whispered.
May you like
He stepped back abruptly, clearing his throat, the mask of the stoic CEO slamming back into place. “Get some rest. The board meeting is tomorrow at 8:00 AM. We have a company to dismantle.”
As he walked away to his separate wing of the penthouse, Clara pressed a hand to her racing heart. The contract strictly forbade emotional entanglements. But Clara was beginning to realize that keeping her end of that bargain was going to be the hardest thing she had ever done.
