The Vance Gala

Claimed by My Ex’s Uncle

Chapter 5: The Vance Gala

The roar of the cameras flashed like lightning through the tinted glass of the black Maybach.

Outside the grand marble steps of the Plaza Hotel, red-carpet reporters were practically throwing themselves against the velvet ropes. The headline of the decade had leaked only hours ago: Julian Vance, the elusive steel titan, was arriving with a mystery woman.

My fingers tightened around my silk clutch. Underneath the crimson gown, my skin was buzzing with raw nervous energy.

"Nervous, little bird?"

Julian’s voice broke through the quiet interior of the luxury sedan. He was sitting beside me, looking devastatingly handsome in a classic black tuxedo. His posture was relaxed, but his silver-gray eyes held that constant, predatory focus that never truly slept.

"I'm not nervous," I said, lifting my chin and turning to face him. "I'm just waiting for the fireworks."

A slow, wicked smirk touched Julian's lips. He reached across the leather seat, his large hand effortlessly closing over mine. His calloused thumb began stroking the back of my knuckles, right over the heavy emerald-cut diamond ring resting on my left hand. The contrast of his intense warmth against my icy fingers sent a sudden, electric shock through my chest.

"Remember the rules," he purred, his voice dropping into that deep baritone that made my pulse stumble. "You don't look back. You don't apologize. Tonight, you own this room, because I own it—and you are mine."

The chauffeur opened the door. The immediate wave of noise, flashing lights, and shouted questions hit us like a tidal wave.

Julian stepped out first, towering over the crowd. He turned and offered his hand. I took it, stepping out onto the carpet as the thigh-high slit of my dress parted, revealing a leg in shimmering heels. The flashbulbs went completely wild.

"Mr. Vance! Who is she?"

"Is it true you're engaged?"

"Elena! Over here!"

Julian didn't answer a single question. He simply slid his heavy arm around my bare waist, pulling me firmly against his side. His large hand rested against the exposed skin of my lower back, his heat burning through me, making a statement to every camera lens in the city without uttering a word.

We walked into the grand ballroom. The doors slammed shut behind us, cutting off the press, but the atmosphere inside was somehow twice as lethal.

The elite of New York high society—billionaires, politicians, and socialites—were gathered around crystal chandeliers and towering champagne pyramids. The moment Julian stepped through the doorway with me on his arm, the hum of polite conversation died down to a sharp, collective gasp.

And there, standing near the main bar with a glass of scotch in his trembling hand, was Marcus. Beside him, dressed in a pale pink gown that paled in comparison to mine, stood Chloe.

Marcus’s eyes met mine, and his glass nearly slipped from his fingers. His face turned a dangerous shade of purple. He stared at my arm wrapped around his uncle’s, then at the massive crimson dress, and finally at the diamond sparkling on my hand.

"Julian," a cold, smooth voice echoed as an older man with graying temples walked toward us. It was Arthur Vance—Julian’s elder brother and Marcus’s father. "What is the meaning of this spectacle? Why is Elena here with you?"

Julian didn't even blink. He adjusted the cuff of his jacket with utter indifference. "She's here with me because she is my guest, Arthur. And soon, she will be your sister-in-law."

Arthur blinked, stunned into absolute silence.

Before his father could reply, Marcus stormed over, his face twisted with pure rage. Chloe hurried behind him, her eyes wide with fake horror.

"Uncle, this is a sick joke!" Marcus spat out, keeping his voice low enough to avoid a public scene, though his knuckles were white. "Elena is doing this to get back at me! She's using you!"

"Is she?" Julian replied, his voice calm, deadpan, and utterly terrifying. He turned his head slowly toward me, his silver eyes softening just enough for the surrounding crowd to witness a look of intense, possessive devotion. "I'm fairly certain I'm the one who asked her."

"She was my fiancée three days ago!" Marcus growled, stepping into Julian's space.

In a flash of pure dominance, Julian stepped forward, placing his body entirely between Marcus and me. He loomed over his nephew, his posture radiating pure authority.

"Key word: was," Julian whispered, his voice carrying just enough edge to make Marcus step back. "You traded gold for dust, nephew. And now you have to watch someone who actually knows how to handle a woman like Elena take what you were too weak to keep."

Chloe gasped softly, clutching Marcus's arm. "Elena, how could you? After everything Marcus did for your family—"

"Everything he did?" I cut in, stepping up beside Julian, locking eyes with my stepsister. "You mean cheating on me in the St. Regis suite the night of our engagement party? Or trying to bankrupt my father's company when I caught you both?"

Whispers exploded through the nearby crowd like wildfire. Several high-society matrons turned away from Chloe, covering their mouths in disgust. Chloe's cheeks flushed bright red, and she shrank behind Marcus.

"You bitch," Marcus snarled under his breath.

"Careful, Marcus," Julian’s voice dropped into a register of cold, absolute murder. "The last man who insulted my wife-to-be lost his entire portfolio before midnight."

Julian didn't give him another second to speak. He wrapped his arm back around my waist, turning us away from the humiliated pair. "Come, my love. Let's get a drink."

He led me toward the private VIP alcove overlooking the ballroom. My heart was slamming against my ribs, an intoxicating mix of adrenaline and sweet victory roaring through my veins.

"That was ruthless," I murmured as we reached the quiet, dimly lit lounge behind heavy velvet curtains.

"That was just the warm-up," Julian said softly.

He didn't grab a drink. Instead, the moment the curtains fell shut, blocking us from the sight of the party, Julian turned me around and backed me against the plush velvet wall.

His large hands came up, framing my face, his thumb tracing my hot lips. The shadow of his imposing frame swallowed me whole.

"You were breathtaking out there," he growled low in his throat, his breath hot against my mouth. "The way you looked at him... the way you put your stepsister in her place."

"I told you I wasn't quiet anymore," I whispered, my hands instinctively rising to rest against his broad chest. Through the fine wool of his tuxedo, his heart was beating with a steady, powerful rhythm.

"No," Julian breathed, his silver eyes storming with an unholy heat. "You're a wild flame, Elena. And I’m going to burn in it."

Before I could draw another breath, his mouth crashed down on mine.

It was a deep, possessive, intoxicating kiss that wiped every lingering thought of revenge from my mind. His tongue demanded entry, plundering my mouth while his hand slid down the curve of my back, pulling my hips tightly against his. I gasped into his lips, arching into his touch, my fingers tangling into the short, thick hair at the back of his neck.

Every touch felt like a line being crossed, a point of no return.

"Julian..." I moaned softly against his lips as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot along my collarbone.

"Say my name again," he demanded, his hand gripping my thigh through the slit of the dress, lifting it slightly as he pressed closer.

Suddenly, the velvet curtain rustled.

"Julian?" Arthur’s stern voice called out from the hallway outside the alcove. "The board members are asking for you."

Julian froze. He pulled back just an inch, his heavy chest heaving, his silver eyes dark with unsated desire. He looked down at my swollen lips, then down at his hand resting on my bare thigh.

A dark, dangerous smile slowly spread across his face.

"Tell them I'll be there in five minutes," Julian called out, his voice smooth and under control, betraying none of the fiery madness currently taking place behind the curtain.

He looked back at me, his thumb sweeping over my cheek. "We have a wedding to plan, little bird. But tonight... tonight you belong to me."