I stared at the glowing tablet in Chloe’s shaking hands, then at the gold-embossed digital image of the invitation, and then up at the side of Julian’s face.
Julian didn’t even blink.
But I could see a tiny muscle ticking in his jaw—the universal billionaire signal for ‘I am currently calculating thirty different ways to ruin a man’s life.’ “The Skyview Club?” I squeaked, my vocal cords betraying me.
“As in…
the rooftop lounge where entry costs more than my entire four-year university tuition?” “It’s Montgomery’s prized asset,” Julian said, his deep voice dropping into an icy register that made the private hallway feel twenty degrees colder.
“He owns fifty-one percent of the building.
It’s where the city’s highest earners go to drink thirty-thousand-dollar scotch and plot hostile takeovers.” “And he’s inviting me?” I pointed a manicured finger at my own chest, my silver-blonde wig shifting slightly with the movement.
“Why?
Is he planning to throw me off the roof?
Because if so, I need to adjust my contract.
Hazardous work environment fees were not included in our initial agreement, Julian!”i whispered close to his ears just enough for the both of us to hear Julian immensely turned back to me, taking a single step closer.
The lingering heat of his hand was still fresh on my chin, and my traitorous pulse immediately spiked all over again.
“He isn’t going to throw you off a roof, Roxie,” Julian said smoothly, though his dark eyes were burning with a dangerous intensity.
“He’s desperate.
You just humiliated him in front of every major news network in North America.
Sterling Global’s stock went up twelve percent in ten minutes because of your little speech.
He wants to drag you into his territory to see if you’ll break under pressure.” “Well, joke’s on him,” I muttered, adjusting my massive Chanel dark glasses.
“I break under pressure all the time!
I broke down in tears last month because the grocery store ran out of the ninety-nine-cent instant ramen!” I whispered Chloe let out a tiny, nervous squeak from the other corner of the room.
“Mother—I mean, Lady Sterling!
Look at the bottom of the invitation!
There’s a handwritten note!” Julian reached out, taking the tablet from Chloe’s hands with effortless authority.
He zoomed in on the bottom corner of the digital image.
I leaned over his muscular arm, my cheek nearly brushing the expensive charcoal fabric of his suit jacket.
Focus, Roxie.
Smell the cold money, not his ridiculously good cologne.
There, written in sharp, arrogant cursive, was a short message: To the mysterious Lady Sterling, ‘A breathtaking performance today.
But high-society games are not won on live television.
Join me for a drink at the Skyview reopening tonight.
Let us see if Monaco’s finest matriarch can handle high altitude…
or if she’s just a common bird in a borrowed cage.’ My blood instantly ran from ice-cold to boiling hot.
A common bird in a borrowed cage?!
“Oh, this man has a death wish,” I gasped, clutching my three strands of South Sea pearls.
“A common bird?!
I will have him know I am a glorious, magnificent eagle!
Julian, hand me my phone.
I am going to buy his favorite sports team and disband it!” “You have four dollars in your checking account, Roxie,” Julian reminded me dryly and teasingly in a whisper , without taking his eyes off the screen.
“That is a temporary setback and you know it!” I huffed, crossing my arms over my black silk jumpsuit.
“Are we going or not?” Julian slowly handed the tablet back to Chloe.
“We go.
But not to play his game.” He turned to face me fully, his tall frame completely blocking out the hallway lights behind him.
He reached out, his long, warm fingers lightly grasping my wrist—not hard, but firm enough that I couldn’t move even if I wanted to.
“Richard Montgomery thinks he’s inviting an enemy to a trap,” Julian whispered, his head dipping close enough that his deep voice rumbled straight into my ribs.
“He doesn’t realize he’s opening his front door to a wrecking ball.” “I prefer the term ‘high-society tactical explosive,'” I corrected, my heart doing that stupid K-pop dance again as his thumb rested near my pulse point.
“So, what’s the plan, CEO?
Do I throw champagne in his face, or do I roast his outfit until he cries in the bathroom?” “Neither,” Julian said, a razor-thin, terrifying smirk spreading across his sharp lips.
“Tonight, you don’t fight him, Lady Sterling.
Tonight, you make his top investors abandon him before the main course is served.” Three hours later, I was standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the penthouse dressing room, staring at my reflection in complete shock.
Grace and Beatrice had outdone themselves.
I was wearing a floor-length, deep red velvet gown with a daring side slit that exposed one five-inch metallic heel.
The neckline was structured, bold, and framed by a heavy diamond choker that Julian had casually handed me from a velvet box ten minutes ago like it was a pack of gum.
My silver-blonde hair was styled into an intricate, regal updo, and my lips were painted a dangerous, blood-red shade.
“Lawd,” I whispered to my reflection.
“If my landlord saw me right now, he’d drop my rent to zero out of pure instinct.” The dressing room door opened.
Julian walked in, wearing a pitch-black tuxedo that looked like it had been molded directly onto his body by a team of elite Italian craftsmen.
He stopped dead in his tracks the second his eyes hit me.
For three long seconds, the cold, impenetrable CEO mask completely slipped.
His dark eyes swept down the emerald velvet dress, lingering on the exposed line of my leg, before snapping back up to my face.
A low, dark flame flickered in his gaze—so hot and intense that my stomach did a violent flip.
Oh boy, my brain short-circuited.
If he keeps looking at me like I’m a five-course meal, I am going to forget my Monaco accent and start speaking in tongues.
Julian cleared his throat, adjusting his black bowtie with a slow, deliberate movement.
“You’ll do,” he said, his voice suspiciously raspy.
“‘You’ll do’?” I gasped, putting a hand over my chest in theatrical horror.
“Julian Sterling, this dress costs more than a small house in Ohio!
The least you can do is tell me I look like an international icon!” Julian stepped toward me, his heavy leather shoes silent against the thick carpet.
He stopped mere inches away, his towering height forcing me to tilt my head back to look at him.
He reached into his inner suit pocket and pulled out a sleek, obsidian-black velvet box.
“I don’t need to tell you what you already know, Miss Fox,” he murmured, opening the box to reveal a massive, tear-drop emerald ring that practically glowed under the lights.
He took my right hand.
His touch was slow, heavy, and deliberate as he slid the heavy ring onto my middle finger.
The contrast between his large, warm hand and my icy, trembling fingers sent a sharp shiver straight up my spine.
“This belonged to my late mother,” Julian said softly, his voice dropping into a rare, quiet note that caught me completely off guard.
“She wore it whenever she needed to remind the Sterling board who was truly in charge.” I stared at the emerald ring, my chaotic drama-student brain suddenly going dead silent.
“Julian…
this is too much.
What if I lose it?
What if I accidentally drop it in a chocolate fountain?” “You won’t,” Julian said, his dark eyes locking onto mine with absolute, unwavering trust.
“Because tonight, you are Lady Sterling.
And nobody takes what belongs to Lady Sterling.” My throat felt tight.
The air between us suddenly felt heavy, charged with something far more dangerous than corporate strategy.
For a second, I forgot we were acting.
I forgot about the $100,000 contract, the viral press conference, and the corporate war.
All I could feel was the intense heat of his hand holding mine, and the steady, powerful rhythm of his presence.
“Julian,” I whispered, my real voice leaking out.
“Are you sure about this?” Julian didn’t answer with words.
Instead, he raised my hand to his lips, brushing a slow, agonizingly soft kiss against the back of my knuckles, right over the ruby ring.
His dark eyes never left mine.
“Let’s go wreck a party, Roxie,” he rumbled against my skin.
The way Julian held her hand under the table AND kissed her on live TV?!
Lawd !!
elevated heart rate detected!
Let me know in the comments!