Conditions

Julian’s POV

​"If we align our summer textile launch with Vance & Co.'s core aesthetics, the projected quarterly yield could easily—"

​Julian stopped listening. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, letting the ice clink softly against the crystal as the executive across from him kept rambling.

​He rarely showed up to these overhyped country club mixers, so his unexpected presence today had clearly thrown everyone into a frenzy. The representatives sitting with him at this private table on the clubhouse's elevated terrace were sweating through their designer suits, desperate to lock down a collaboration for his company's upcoming summer collection before he stood up to leave.

​It was almost cute. Vance & Co. was the undisputed giant of the fashion and design industry in this country, so the aggressive kissing up was normal. But normal didn't make it any less boring.

​When the guy reached what seemed like the climax of his tragic slide presentation, Julian simply set his glass down on the wooden table, cutting him off mid-sentence.

​"Hand your portfolio to my assistant," Julian said, his deep voice cutting through the chatter with effortless authority. "We'll review it."

​Before the man could even sputter out a grateful thank you, Julian stood up and walked away toward the grand staircase, Enveloped in his thoughts until..

​"Sir?"

​Marcus’s polite voice sounded behind him as his executive assistant caught up, adjusting his glasses.

​"The representatives have submitted their files," Marcus reported smoothly. "Are we finished here, or is there anything else you require?"

​"We're done," Julian said quietly. "Let's go."

​They made their way down to the main entrance, where his black SUV was already waiting at the curb. The driver held the rear door open, and Julian slid into the cool, leather interior while Marcus climbed into the front passenger seat.

​The engine hummed to life, and the car pulled smoothly onto the main road.

​Julian rested his elbow against the window, staring out at the passing trees. He let the silence stretch for a moment before speaking up, his voice low and cool.

​"I asked for a name earlier."

​Marcus glanced at him through the rearview mirror. 

"I didn't get a full background check yet, sir. But she goes by Liana. It seems she’s trying to secure an opening at the company."

​Julian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

​"Interesting."

​Julian let out a tired breath, leaning his head back against the leather headrest and closing his eyes.

​Before he could sink into the quiet, his phone vibrated sharply in his suit pocket, buzzing repeatedly against his leg.

​He pulled it out, bringing the screen up to his face. The caller ID flashed brightly across the glass and he sighed

​Julian stared at the flashing name on the screen for three long seconds before sliding his thumb across the glass. He pressed the phone to his ear, keeping his eyes closed.

​"What do you want, Mother?" he asked, his voice low, flat, and completely drained.

​"That is certainly no way to address your mother, Julian," a smooth, composed voice replied over the speaker. 

Mrs. Vance wasn't a cold, unfeeling tyrant, but she was sharp, precise, and never wasted words. "How are you? You sound exhausted."

​"I'm fine," Julian said quietly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Just busy. Why are you calling?"

​A soft sigh echoed through the line. "Must there always be a business reason for me to speak with my son? I am checking on you. But... 

She paused then continued

"since you brought it up, there is something we need to discuss."

​Julian closed his eyes tighter, already knowing exactly where this conversation was heading. 

"Mother..."

​"Julian, listen to me," she interrupted gently, her tone dropping into something far more serious. "Your father’s health is not improving. The board is getting restless, and you know the conditions of the family trust. You cannot fully step into the Chairman position or take complete ownership of the company shares until you are settled."

​"I am managing the company just fine," Julian said, his jaw tightening slightly.

​"You are running the operations, yes, but legally, the board can block your final inheritance if you don't fulfill the final condition of the trust," his mother reminded him smoothly. 

"You need to be married, Julian. A stable family image shows stability to the investors. Time is running out, and your father wants to see this settled before his condition worsens."

​Julian stared out the tinted window as the city lights blurred past the dark glass. A sharp, annoying headache was beginning to form behind his eyes.

​"I am working on it, Mother," Julian replied curtly, keeping his tone firm yet respectful. "If you have nothing else to say, then have a good night."

​"Julian—"

​Before she could press the issue any further, Julian ended the call. He lowered the phone and tossed it onto the empty leather seat beside him. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes in the quiet hum of the moving car.