“No.”
His eyes flash, not anger at me. It looks more like frustration, a need to protect.
“This isn’t something you need to...”
“If he’s here because of me,” I say quietly, “I’m not hiding.”
There’s a beat, a calculation. Then he nods once.
“Stay behind me.”
I almost tell him I don’t need shielding.
But the truth is, I’m already bracing.
The elevator hums, and my body reacts like it’s about to be hit.
I close my eyes for a moment and think about my conversation with Julian last night. Think about his confession of not knowing love. Think about whatthat man... his father did to him... to me... to us. I let that fuel me instead of fear.
So I open my eyes, grab my wine glass and lean back into the couch facing the elevator, hoping my fear stays hidden and my fury shines through.
When the doors open, Richard North steps out as if the penthouse belongs to him.
Perfect suit. Perfect posture. Perfect disdain.
For half a second, I’m back in that office.
The folders, photos, and his smirk.
My heart rate spikes, so I sip my wine to cover my face and give my hands something to do.
He doesn’t look at me first.
He looks at Julian.
“You’ve made a spectacle of yourself,” Richard says smoothly. “Over a woman.”
The words slide through the room like oil.
Julian doesn’t move. He doesn’t greet him.
“You were instructed not to come here,” Julian replies.
The temperature in his voice is different than anything I have heard from him before.
Colder.
Richard smiles faintly. “I don’t take instructions from boys playing at being men.”
Boys?
I feel Julian shift in front of me. Not fully blocking me. Not hiding me.
Just… present.
And for a terrifying flicker of a second, my brain betrays me.
What if they’re the same?
