CHAPTER 7: Terms And Conditions

SCARLET’S POV

The entire ride back to Manhattan was awkward but thankfully, rain started halfway through the drive, so I didn't need to say anything. 

I sat beside Julian with my hands folded tightly in my lap trying not to replay Eleanor’s final words over and over in my head.

“Men like Julian Cross don’t protect people forever.”

Beside me, Julian loosened his tie slightly while staring out at the rain-covered city. He looked different now than he did before.

“You handled yourself well tonight.”

His voice broke through the silence and I looked over at him in disbelief.

“That’s your takeaway from tonight?”

“It’s one of them.”

I stared at him for a second. “Your mother threatened me at least three times.”

“She threatened you six times. Three were subtle enough that you missed them.”

My mouth opened slightly. “That is disturbing information, Julian.”

“It wasn’t meant to comfort you.”

I should have expected that answer by now. I leaned back into the seat with an exhausted breath. 

“Does your family always speak like they secretly want to kill each other?”

“Yes.”

The answer came so fast that I turned toward him immediately.

“You’re joking.”

“I’m really not.”

Just wow 

No wonder the entire estate felt cursed.

The car finally pulled into the underground garage beneath the penthouse building and my body relaxed a little for the first time all morning.

Which made no sense as this place was no different but the penthouse felt safer than his parents’ house. 

Julian stepped out first once the driver parked and I followed behind him quietly. 

I watched the floor numbers climb while exhaustion settled deeper into my bones with every second.

The second the penthouse doors opened, I kicked my heels off without thinking.

“Oh thank God.”

Julian glanced sideways at me while undoing his cufflinks. 

“That dramatic over shoes?”

“You try surviving psychological warfare in six-inch heels.”

Something almost like a laugh escaped him and I froze instantly.

Hold on.

Did Julian Cross just laugh? It barely lasted a second but it happened. 

A rough breath of amusement that disappeared immediately and he noticed me staring right away.

“What?”

“You laughed.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You absolutely did.”

Julian ignored me and walked toward the bar cart which confirmed it harder than any words could do. 

I followed him into the living room while reaching behind myself to unzip the suffocating dress Camille picked earlier.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” I muttered.

“Do what?”

“Act like a normal person.”

That earned me a scathing look from him but the second his eyes landed on me, I became aware that I was halfway out of my dress.

The zipper hung low enough to expose part of my back and his gaze dropped there for one brief second before returning to my face and heat crawled up my neck immediately.

Fucking, fantastic.

Exactly what I needed right now. Julian picked up a whiskey glass from the counter. 

“You’re getting bolder.”

“Maybe your mother traumatized the fear out of me.”

“She tends to have that effect.”

I moved toward the windows afterward, wrapping my arms loosely around myself while staring out across the rain-covered skyline.

“You never answered her question.”

His voice came from somewhere behind me and I turned toward him.

“What question?”

“How we supposedly fell in love.”

A soft laugh escaped me before I could stop it. 

“I was too busy trying not to have a breakdown.”

He stared at me until a loud beep disturbed whatever moment we were having and when he checked, he frowned in annoyance. 

“My mother leaked your photograph to the press.”

I stared at Julian for a second waiting for him to say anything else after that like it was a fucking joke.  

Instead, he just stood there holding his phone with that cold unreadable expression back on his face.

Which meant this was bad.

“How bad?” I asked carefully.

Julian looked at the screen again before tossing the phone onto the marble counter with visible irritation.

“Bad enough that three news outlets already picked it up.”

My stomach dropped instantly. “Picked up what exactly?”

“The photographs from tonight.”

I blinked at him. “That’s not illegal. People take billionaire wedding pictures all the time.”

“That’s not the problem.”

The way he said it made my chest tighten immediately.

I watched him loosen the rest of his tie before finally answering.

“She leaked comparison photos.”

Oh.

Oh no and a wave of nausea rolled through me. 

I moved toward the counter too fast and grabbed the phone before he could stop me and my entire body went cold.

There we were.

A photograph from the wedding beside an old charity photo of Vivian from months ago. 

Same dark hair. Same eyes. Same face but now that they placed us together properly, the differences became obvious if people looked hard enough.

Vivian smiled bigger. Meanwhile, I looked ten times more uncomfortable standing beside Julian at the altar.

The headline underneath made me feel ill.

“WHO EXACTLY DID JULIAN CROSS MARRY?”

Shit.

“Oh my God.”

Another article already called me “the mystery bride.”

A third one questioned whether Julian married the wrong Lawson sister intentionally.

Comments flooded underneath every post and some people thought it was plastic surgery. Others thought Julian was having an affair with twins.

One comment simply said:

“That girl looks terrified.”

My throat tightened unexpectedly at that one because they were right. I looked up slowly. 

“How is this spreading this fast?”

“Because my mother has connections everywhere.”

Julian sounded more annoyed than panicked which felt insane as my life was detonating online in real time.

“She planned this,” I whispered.

“Yes.”

“She wants people questioning the marriage publicly before she attacks legally.”

His eyes landed on me and something unreadable flickered there briefly.

“Exactly.”

I hated how calm he stayed in catastrophic moments.

It made me feel more unstable. I tossed the phone back onto the counter harder than necessary before pacing toward the windows again.

“I can’t do this.”

The words escaped before I could stop them and Julian went still behind me. 

I wrapped my arms around myself tighter. 

“I mean it. This is insane. Your mother is investigating me, leaking photographs to the press and threatening me in coded language while I pretend to be somebody else twenty-four hours a day.”

My voice cracked slightly from exhaustion more than emotion.

“I’m one mistake away from prison.”

I heard footsteps but didn't look up until Julian stopped behind me close enough that I felt his presence before he even spoke.

“Look at me.”

I didn’t want to.

But my body ignored common sense and turned anyway.

Big mistake.

Because he was standing too close enough that I noticed the faint exhaustion beneath his eyes again.

Close enough to smell whiskey and rain and that stupid expensive cologne that always made my brain short-circuit.

“You are not falling apart tonight,” he said evenly.

I let out a sharp laugh. “That sounds less like an encouragement and more like an order.”

“It’s both.”

Of course it was.

I looked away from him first. “You act like this doesn’t affect you at all.”

“That’s because panic is useless.”

“Well some of us are emotionally attached to our nervous systems, Julian.”

Something that looked like laughter touched his face briefly before disappearing again.

“You think too much.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Next time I’ll have my existential crisis in silence or you know what, shut down my brain.”

“Don't do it.”

I rubbed at my forehead tiredly before speaking again. 

“What happens now?”

“We get ahead of it.”

“How?”

“Simple.” He moved toward the counter again and picked his phone back up. 

“Tomorrow morning we leave together publicly. Smile for cameras. Act united. Make the press think this story doesn’t bother us.”

“That sounds horrifying.”

“It is.”

“You say things like that way too casually.”

“I’ve had practice. Also, you love your father.”

The words slipped out quietly without me even thinking and Julian’s fingers paused against his phone and there was this unrecognisable emotion in his face. 

“He built everything I have,” he answered after a moment. “Cross Industries started with him.”

“And your mother?”

His jaw tightened slightly.

“My mother loves power and herself more than people.”

Well.

That explained literally everything. My eyes drifted toward my reflection in the glass and I barely recognized myself anymore.

Designer clothes.

Luxury penthouse.

Fake marriage.

Media scandals. 

Hours ago I was arguing with hospital billing departments and eating noodles in my apartment while grading exhibition proposals.

Now I was standing inside a billionaire’s penthouse discussing media damage control with my fake husband like this was somehow normal.

“You’re spiraling again.”

I looked over my shoulder. “Can you stop reading my face like that? It’s unsettling.”

“You’re expressive.”

“No, I’m sleep deprived.”

“That too.”

I exhaled softly despite myself and my phone buzzed inside my purse. Every muscle in my body tensed instantly as I pulled it out.

Margaret.

Fuck! I stared at the screen while dread crawled slowly through my stomach.

Julian noticed immediately. “Who is it?”

“My stepmother.”

“Answer it.”

I looked at him like he lost his mind. 

“Absolutely not.”

“She won’t stop calling otherwise.”

Which was painfully true. I accepted the call carefully before lifting the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE?”

I flinched and Julian’s expression darkened immediately from across the room.

Margaret sounded hysterical.

“I told you one month, Scarlet! ONE month! Why are your pictures all over the internet?!”