Chapter Forty-Nine: The Gala

The Meridian Hotel looked the same.

I hadn't been back since the night I died. The entrance. The lobby. The elevator that led to the suite where Julian had pushed me off the balcony. It was all the same. The same marble floors. The same crystal chandeliers. The same staff in black uniforms who didn't look at anyone who wasn't paying them.

The car pulled up to the curb. Camera flashes erupted. Journalists called my name. I didn't blink.

Adrian got out first. He offered his hand. I took it.

The cameras went wild.

I wore the red dress. The black heels. The simple clutch. Everything was deliberate. Everything was a statement.

We walked through the entrance together. Adrian's hand rested on my back. He didn't speak. He didn't need to.

The ballroom was enormous. Crystal chandeliers. White tablecloths. A string quartet in the corner playing something forgettable. The room was full of people I recognized. Old money. New money. Politicians. Socialites. The same faces I'd seen at the last gala. The same faces that had watched me walk out with my head high.

I scanned the room out of habit.

And then I saw him.

Julian was standing near the terrace doors. A glass of whiskey in his hand. Mira was beside him. She saw me first. Her face went pale.

Julian turned.

Our eyes met.

He didn't move. He didn't speak. He just stared. His face drained of color. His hand tightened around his glass. I thought he might drop it. He didn't.

I smiled at him. It wasn't a kind smile.

Adrian's hand pressed gently against my back. A reminder. A warning. He didn't say anything.

We walked into the room.

---

The first hour passed without incident.

I shook hands. I nodded. I said the right things to the right people. Adrian stayed close. He didn't hover. He just stayed close enough that anyone watching would know we were together.

Claire Bennett was there. She was standing by the bar with a notebook in her hand. She saw me. She nodded. I nodded back.

Felix was somewhere in the room. He'd been there for hours before we arrived. He'd made sure everything was in place.

Sloane was outside. She had a team of six. Every exit was covered. Every camera was monitored.

Julian hadn't moved from the terrace doors. He was still standing there. Still holding the same glass of whiskey. Still watching me.

Mira had disappeared. I didn't know where.

At nine, the auction began. I didn't pay attention. I just watched Julian. He wasn't watching the auction either. He was watching me.

At ten, the auction ended. People began to move. To talk. To drink.

Julian started walking toward me.

---

He stopped a few feet away.

Adrian was beside me. He didn't move. He didn't speak. He just stood there.

"Elena," Julian said.

His voice was steady. His hands were not. He was holding the glass so tightly I thought it might shatter.

"Julian."

"We need to talk."

"We have nothing to talk about."

"You're wrong."

I looked at him. Really looked. He was thinner than the last time I'd seen him. His eyes were bloodshot. His suit was expensive but it didn't fit right. He'd lost weight. He'd lost sleep. He'd lost everything.

He didn't know it yet.

"Say what you came to say," I said.

He glanced at Adrian. Then at me. Then at the room. People were watching. They were trying not to. But they were watching.

"Not here," he said.

"Here is fine."

He stepped closer. His voice dropped.

"You've made your point. The articles. The investigation. The charges against my father. You've won. You've humiliated me. You've destroyed my family. Isn't that enough?"

"No."

He blinked. "What?"

"It's not enough. It won't be enough until you're in a cell. Until your father is in a cell. Until everyone who helped you cover up my mother's murder is in a cell."

His face changed. The mask slipped. The desperation underneath was ugly.

"You can't prove anything," he said.

"I can. I have. The evidence is already in the hands of the authorities. By tomorrow morning, it'll be in the hands of every journalist in the country."

He stared at me. He didn't speak. He didn't move.

"You're bluffing," he said.

I didn't respond. I just looked at him.

"Elena. You don't want to do this. You don't want to destroy me. Think about what we had. Think about—"

"I think about what we had every day," I said. "I think about how you lied to me. How you cheated on me. How you planned to steal my mother's trust fund. How you pushed me off a balcony and watched me fall."

His face went white.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me."

"That's not—that never happened. You're lying."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"You know what you did," I said. "You just don't know that I know."

He took a step back. He bumped into a waiter. A glass fell. It shattered on the floor. People turned. The room went quiet.

Julian didn't notice. He was staring at me. His eyes were wide. His hands were shaking.

"You're insane," he said.

"No. I'm just not afraid of you anymore."

Adrian spoke for the first time.

"Julian."

Julian looked at him.

"Walk away," Adrian said. "While you still can."

Julian stared at him. Then at me. Then at the room. Everyone was watching. Everyone was waiting.

He didn't move.

Adrian pulled out his phone.

"Then I'll do it for you," he said.

He connected the phone to the audio system. He pressed play.

Julian's voice filled the ballroom.