Richard Montgomery looked like a man who had accidentally swallowed a wasp.
Although his slicked-back silver hair remained immaculate, but his face was turning a deep shade of purple that clashed horribly with his navy suit.
Around us, the silent terrace was practically buzzing with the heavy, awkward energy of twenty ultra-wealthy investors pretending they weren’t listening to every single word.
Roxie, girl, my internal monologue screamed in absolute triumph, you just told a multi-millionaire he looks like an old leather shoe in front of his own business partners.
If drama school gave out Nobel Prizes, you’d be on a stamp.
Montgomery cleared his throat, taking a quick, desperate gulp of his vintage champagne.
“You have a very bold mouth, Lady Sterling.
But insulting my facial skin won’t hide the fact that your family’s supply chain in Eastern Europe is bleeding money.” I didn’t even flinch.
I slowly raised my hand, adjusting the heavy diamond choker around my neck just to make sure the light caught every single carat.
“Darling,” I rasped out in my thickest, most unbearable European accent, “the only thing bleeding money in this city is your stock portfolio.
Julian, sweetie, didn’t you mention over breakfast yesterday that Mr.
Montgomery’s shipping firm just lost three major contracts to a German conglomerate?” Beside me, Julian didn’t break stride and even kept his arm wrapped firmly around my waist, his broad body acting like a human shield.
His dark eyes narrowed on Montgomery with the quiet, terrifying precision of a sniper.
“Four contracts, actually,” Julian said, his deep voice carrying effortlessly across the terrace.
“And his chief financial officer resigned two hours ago.
But please, Richard, continue telling us about our supply chain.” A collective, sharp gasp rippled through the circle of investors.
One old man with a thick gold watch immediately pulled out his phone and started typing furiously under his napkin.
Montgomery’s champagne glass trembled slightly.
“That…
that news hasn’t been made public!” “It became public thirty seconds ago when I bought your CFO’s non-disclosure agreement,” Julian replied smoothly, his tone as cold as winter ice.
“You invited us up to this rooftop to put on a show.
But you forgot that when Lady Sterling steps onto a stage, she owns the theater.” Lord have mercy, I thought, my heart doing a rapid K-pop routine against my ribs as Julian pulled me just a millimeter closer to his side.
Oof!
The way this man delivers a corporate insult should be classified as a deadly weapon.
I am supposed to be acting, so why am I getting butterflies for a billionaire robot?!
I leaned into Julian’s chest slightly, flashing a dazzling, fake-motherly smile at Montgomery.
“If you ever need career advice, Richard, my foundation offers small business consulting for struggling executives.
I’ll have my secretary send you a pamphlet.” “You…
you arrogant frauds!” Montgomery practically spat, taking an aggressive step forward.
Before he could even get within three feet of me, Julian stepped in front of me, his tall, massive frame completely blocking Montgomery from my line of sight.
The temperature on the terrace dropped to sub-zero.
“Step back, Richard,” Julian warned, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous rumble that made even the waiters stiffen.
“Unless you want me to pull my capital from the Skyview Club before the dessert menu arrives.” Montgomery opened his mouth, closed it, looked at the crowd of investors currently turning their backs on him to talk to Julian, and realized he had lost completely.
Without another word, he spun on his heel and stormed toward the VIP elevators, his navy suit trailing behind him like a cape of pure defeat.
The moment the elevator doors slid shut behind him, the entire atmosphere on the terrace exploded into quiet, frantic activity.
Investors who had been ignoring us two minutes ago suddenly swarmed around us like pigeons chasing breadcrumbs.
“Lady Sterling!
A moment of your time!” “Julian, my team wants to discuss the new logistics deal!” For the next forty-five minutes, I played my part to absolute perfection.
I dropped fake European high-society gossip, complained about the quality of the rooftop caviar, and smiled graciously as three major investors practically begged Julian to take their money.
By the time we finally excused ourselves and stepped into the private elevator to leave, my five-inch metallic heels felt like they had fused directly to my ankle bones.
The heavy glass doors of the elevator clicked shut, plunging us into quiet, dim isolation as the floor numbers began counting down from fifty.
The second the doors sealed, my rigid, high-society posture completely collapsed.
I let out a long, unglamorous groan, leaning my back against the mirrored wall of the elevator cab.
“Oh, sweet mercy,” I gasped, my Monaco accent vanishing into thin air as I kicked off my right heel and wiggled my toes in pure relief.
“If I had to listen to one more seventy-year-old man explain his yacht collection to me, I was going to jump over the glass railing!” Julian stood in the center of the elevator, his hands resting casually in his tuxedo pockets.
He didn’t look tired at all.
He looked like he had just finished a light walk in the park.
“You did exceptionally well, Roxie,” Julian said softly.
I looked up at him, hovering on one shoe while clutching the heavy ruby ring on my finger.
“Exceptionally well?
Julian, I basically handed that man his own head on a silver platter!
I deserve an Oscar, a hot bath, and a whole pizza!” A tiny, rare smirk tugged at the corner of Julian’s sharp lips.
He took two slow steps toward me, closing the distance in the small space until he was standing directly over me.
The rich scent of his cologne filled my nose, instantly making my pulse do a frantic jump.
“You converted three of Montgomery’s biggest backers in under twenty minutes,” Julian murmured, reaching out.
His long fingers gently caught my chin, lifting my face toward his.
“You’re a natural, Miss Fox.” My breath hitched in my throat.
And even though the elevator was descending rapidly, it felt like time had completely frozen inside the mirror-lined box.
“It’s…
it’s just drama school training,” I stammered, my real voice sounding small and breathless under his intense gaze.
“You give me a script, and I execute it.” “This wasn’t in the script,” Julian whispered, his thumb lightly stroking the side of my jawline.
His dark eyes dropped to my lips, lingering there for one long, terrifying second before snapping back to my eyes.
“And neither was the way you held your ground.” Oh God, my brain shrieked in absolute panic.
He is looking at me with his real eyes.
Not the ‘CEO looking at his fake mother’ eyes.
The ‘man looking at a woman’ eyes!
Red alert!
System failure!
Before I could say something stupid to ruin the moment, the elevator let out a soft ding, announcing our arrival at the private underground parking garage.
Julian’s hand slowly slid off my chin, though his fingers brushed over my collarbone just long enough to leave a trail of heat behind.
The cold CEO mask clicked effortlessly back into place, but the dark, burning energy in his eyes remained.
“The Maybach is waiting,” Julian said, his voice deep and slightly rough.
He offered his arm to me.
“Let’s get you that pizza.” I slipped my shoe back on, took his arm, and tried very hard to pretend my heart wasn’t trying to hammer its way straight out of my chest.
As we walked out into the quiet garage toward the waiting luxury car, I looked at Julian’s sharp handsome profile and felt a sudden, cold wave of reality wash over me.
This was supposed to be a fake contract.
A hundred thousand dollars a month.
A lie to save his company.
So why, does every time his hand touched mine, did it feel like the most dangerous, real thing I had ever experienced?
(_ _).｡o○ Roxie walked into that party giving ‘rich eccentric aunt from Europe’ and left with half the man’s financial backers.
We love a multi-talented queen who can switch from Shakespearean theater student to corporate assassin in five-inch heels!
And Julian?!
Sir, you are playing a very dangerous game in that elevator.
The fake contract era is hanging by a single thread and we all know it!
(╥﹏╥) Quick question for you guys: Do you think Roxie is going to address the elevator tension in the car, or is she going to completely panic and hide behind her pizza?
Let me know your thoughts in the comments!