Chapter 5 Now the war begins...

Julian’s POV

The applause sounded wrong. It should have felt like victory- the perfect end to a perfect night- but all I heard was noise: empty noise that scraped against my skin and did nothing to hide the fact that she had just walked out on me. Again.

I saw her move before my mind could process it. Zoey- my Zoey, or at least she used to be- turned on her heel and walked away like I was nothing more than a stranger who had dared to speak her name. My hand tightened around the microphone, not enough to crack it, but enough that my knuckles went white. For a split second, the room blurred as cameras, lights, and faces all melted into one sickening swirl. I felt heat rise up my neck, into my face, and into my chest. I had been publicly humiliated.

I forced my smile to stay in place because that was what men like me did; we did not break in public, and we did not bleed where people could see. But inside? Inside, I was furious. I finished the speech on autopilot, words leaving my mouth smoothly, polished and perfect, but my mind was still replaying the image of her walking away.

When the crowd began to disperse, I left the stage faster than I should have, slipping into the private lounge at the back of the venue where the noise of the ballroom could not follow me. The room was quiet, dim, and almost too calm. I braced my hands on the bar, staring at my reflection in the dark glass behind it. My face looked composed, but my eyes were sharp, restless, and angry.

Behind me, Carrick shifted in his seat. “You made your point,” he said carefully, swirling his drink. “Let it go.”

I let out a short, humorless laugh. “Let it go?” I snapped, not turning. “Did you see what she did out there?”

He sighed. “Everyone saw it.”

“Exactly.” I straightened abruptly, turning toward him now as the anger I had held back on stage flooded to the surface. “She walked out,” I said, my voice tight. “In front of investors. In front of the board. In front of half of this city’s elite. She made me look like a fool.”

Carrick leaned forward slightly, his tone measured. “You put her on the spot, Julian. You should have known she wouldn’t take that well.”

I slammed my palm lightly against the counter, not enough to shatter anything, just enough to make my point. “I gave her a moment,” I shot back. “A chance to stand beside me like a civilized person… like a woman who knows how to handle herself in public. And she chose to humiliate me instead.”

Carrick rubbed his face, clearly tired. “This is exactly why I told you not to call her name.”

I scoffed. “Don’t lecture me.” Silence settled between us for a few seconds, thick and tense. Then something shifted in me. The heat of my anger cooled-not into calm, but into something colder and more calculated. I rolled my shoulders back slowly. “She thinks she can walk away from me like that?” I said quietly. “Like I’m some embarrassing chapter she can just erase?”

Carrick frowned. “Julian… what are you saying?”

I looked at him, my lips curving slightly- not in amusement, but in resolve. “I’m going to teach her a lesson,” I said.

Carrick exhaled sharply. “That sounds like a terrible idea.”

I ignored him. That was when I noticed movement in the doorway: Christian Bellucci, Zoey’s fake fiancé, or whatever he thought he was. He stood there like he owned the space, leaning casually against the frame with arms folded and eyes steady- too steady.

I turned fully toward him. “Well,” I said slowly, my voice smooth again, “if it isn’t Zoey’s new savior.”

Carrick glanced between us, clearly sensing the tension. Christian stepped into the room properly. “Julian,” he said evenly.

I studied him, taking him in the way a predator sizes up a rival: tall, composed, and untouchable in that infuriating billionaire way. “You played your part well tonight,” I said, circling him slowly. “Very convincing.”

He said nothing. That silence irritated me more than I cared to admit. I let out a small breath and stopped in front of him, deciding to shift tactics. “You know,” I began almost conversationally, “Zoey and I did not start like a scandal.”

Carrick stiffened behind me. “Julian…”

“Stay out of this,” I snapped without looking at him. He fell silent.

I turned my full attention back to Christian. “We met at a gala, much like this one,” I said, my tone drifting into memory. “She was younger then. Softer. Still believed people when they smiled at her.” A flicker of something crossed Christian’s face, but he hid it quickly. “She wore a silver dress that night,” I continued, seeing it clearly in my mind. “Her hair was down. She laughed too loud when she was nervous, like she was trying to fill the room with sound so no one could hear her insecurity.”

My lips curved slightly at the memory. “I noticed her before she noticed me,” I went on. “Of course I did. She was Zoey Aguilar, the golden heiress. Every man in that room wanted her. But I got her.”

Carrick shifted uncomfortably in his chair, clearly wishing he was anywhere else.

“We talked for hours,” I continued. “Danced. Exchanged numbers. It felt easy at first- natural. She trusted me.” My voice hardened slightly. “Then things got complicated: family expectations, business pressure, sacrifices that had to be made. But through all of it…” I paused, eyes narrowing, “…she was mine.”

The word hung heavy between us. Christian’s jaw tightened just a fraction. Good. I stepped even closer now, close enough that I could see the faint gold flecks in his dark eyes. “Do you know why I’m telling you this?” I asked.

He met my stare without hesitation. “I’d love to know why you’re still obsessed about your vomit.”

A slow, cold smile spread across my face. “Because I want you to leave her.”

The air in the room seemed to thicken. Carrick let out a sharp breath. “Julian, don’t…”

I ignored him again. My eyes stayed locked on Christian’s. “Zoey belongs to me,” I said plainly. Silence stretched between us- long, charged, and dangerous. Christian did not move, did not flinch, and did not blink too much. He was good; I would give him that.

Finally, his voice cut through the tension, low and controlled. “And if I don’t?”

My smile faded. The warmth left my face completely. I stepped even closer, lowering my voice so only he could hear, my words dripping with quiet menace. “You don’t want to know what I’m capable of.”