Julian recognized the specific, ostentatious calligraphy immediately. It was the same font Ryan Sinclair used for his firm's annual holiday gala invitations.
Frowning, Julian picked up the envelope. It was addressed to Mr. Julian Pierce & Guest. He slid his thumb under the wax seal, pulling out the heavy, embossed card inside.
His jaw tightened instantly. A hot, violent spike of anger flared in his chest.
Ryan Sinclair and Emily Bennett request the honor of your presence at their wedding...
Julian stared at the heavy cardstock. The sheer, unmitigated audacity of the man. Ryan knew exactly who Julian was, and he knew Julian was with Sarah. Sending this invitation to Julian’s private residence wasn't an oversight; it was a pathetic, arrogant power play from a man who was still smarting from being publicly humiliated. It was Ryan trying to poke the bear.
"Julian?"
Sarah’s voice broke through his anger. He looked up. She had put her wine glass down and was watching him from the kitchen island, her brow furrowed in concern.
"What is it? Did something happen at work?" she asked, sliding off the stool.
Julian looked down at the invitation. He wanted to throw it in the trash and never let her see the names printed on the card. He wanted to shield her from the toxic debris of her past. But they had promised each other absolute honesty.
He took a slow breath and walked back into the kitchen, holding the thick card out to her.
"It’s from Ryan," Julian said, his voice hard, his protective instincts vibrating on high alert. "He sent it to my office, and my assistant forwarded it here. I'm sorry, Sarah. The man is entirely shameless."
Sarah took the invitation from his hand.
Julian watched her face closely, bracing himself for the anger or the sudden, shattering grief that usually accompanied any mention of her sister or her ex-boss. He stepped closer, ready to pull her into his arms.
Sarah read the swirling calligraphy. She read the date, the venue, and the names.
Then, she did something Julian completely didn't expect.
She let out a soft, indifferent sigh and tossed the heavy, expensive invitation onto the marble counter like it was a piece of junk mail.
"Well," Sarah said casually, reaching for her wine glass again. "If they're happy, then good for them."
Julian blinked, completely thrown off guard. "Sarah... you're okay? I can have my lawyers—"
"Julian, stop," Sarah smiled, looking up at him with eyes that were completely clear and unburdened. "I really don't care. It doesn't bother me at all. They can have their expensive wedding and their life together. It has absolutely nothing to do with us."
She took a sip of her wine, her expression perfectly serene. "They're living their lives, and we're living ours. Let them be happy. I know I am."
Julian looked at the woman standing in front of him. She wasn't carrying the wreckage anymore; she had simply stepped over it and walked away.
He let out a soft chuckle, his chest suddenly incredibly light, completely free of the anger he'd felt moments before. The tension drained from his shoulders.
He reached out, intertwining his fingers with hers, feeling the warmth and strength of her grip.
"Come on," Julian murmured, his eyes filled with absolute adoration as he gently pulled her toward the stove. "Let's finish making this dinner together."
Chapter Nine
Emily
The heavy silk of the Vera Wang gown pooled around Emily’s feet like spun snow. She stared at her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror of the VIP bridal suite, a glass of complimentary champagne resting in her manicured hand.
She looked perfect. She looked exactly like the wealthy, untouchable society wife she had always deserved to be.
A giddy, bubbly laugh escaped her lips as her mind drifted back to the night of the engagement. It had been flawless. Ryan had rented out the entire penthouse terrace of a very chic downtown hotel. The guest list had been a who's-who of the city's elite. She remembered looking across the patio and seeing Ryan’s mother—a notoriously icy matriarch who had finally thawed—cooing and drooling over little Charles, holding her grandson like he was the crown prince. And then, Ryan had gotten down on one knee, opening a velvet box to reveal a radiant-cut diamond so massive it practically caught its own gravitational pull.
It was the ultimate victory. She had secured the bag, the ring, and the bloodline.
