Chapter Ten: Julian's First Move

The package arrived at my office on a Tuesday.

Felix brought it to me. He held it like it might explode.

"It was delivered this morning," he said. "No return address. Security scanned it. It's clean."

I took it from him. A small box. White paper. Black ribbon. Elegant. Expensive.

I knew who it was from before I opened it.

Inside was a necklace. Gold chain. Single pearl. I recognized it immediately. Julian had given it to me for my birthday two years ago. I'd worn it to dinner at his parents' house. I'd told him it was beautiful. I'd meant it.

I set the box on my desk.

"There's a card," Felix said.

"I know."

I opened it. The handwriting was Julian's. Slanted. Precise. Familiar.

I know you're angry. I understand that. But we need to talk. Not about the money. Not about Kane. About us. What we had. Please, Elena. Just give me five minutes.

I read it twice. Then I folded it in half and dropped it in the trash.

"What do you want me to do with the necklace?" Felix asked.

"Give it to Sloane. Tell her to add it to the evidence file."

"The evidence file?"

"Everything he's ever given me. Every gift. Every letter. Every photograph. It all goes in the file."

Felix nodded. He picked up the box. He left.

I sat at my desk. I stared at the wall. I waited for something—anger, sadness, regret. Anything.

Nothing came.

---

Adrian found me at lunch.

I was in the kitchen. I was eating soup I didn't taste. He sat across from me. He had a folder in his hand.

"The necklace arrived," he said.

"You heard."

"Sloane told me."

I set down my spoon. "He wants to talk. He says he wants to explain."

"Explain what?"

"That he's sorry. That he made mistakes. That he wants another chance."

Adrian didn't react. He just watched me.

"And what do you want?" he asked.

"I want him to stop sending me things. I want him to stop pretending he cares. I want him to leave me alone."

"That's not what I asked."

I looked at him. "What did you ask?"

"I asked what you want."

I didn't answer. I didn't know how.

"Revenge is easy," Adrian said. "It's a target. A destination. You know where you're going. But after? After the revenge is done—what do you want?"

I stared at my soup. The broth was cold. I hadn't noticed.

"I don't know," I said.

"Then figure it out."

He stood. He left the folder on the table. He walked out.

I sat there for a long time. The soup got colder. The light shifted. I didn't move.

---

That night, Julian called.

I was in the penthouse. Adrian was in his office. I was on the couch, staring at the television I wasn't watching.

My phone buzzed. His name appeared on the screen.

I let it ring.

He called again. And again. On the fifth call, I answered.

"Stop," I said.

"Elena—"

"Stop calling me. Stop sending me things. Stop pretending you care."

"I do care. I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. But we can fix this."

"There's nothing to fix."

"There's everything to fix. We were good together. We had plans. We had a future."

I almost laughed. "We had a future? You pushed me off a balcony."

Silence.

"What?" he said.

"You heard me."

"I don't—I never—Elena, what are you talking about?"

I closed my eyes. I'd slipped. I'd said too much.

"Forget it," I said.

"No. What did you mean? What balcony?"

"I have to go."

"Elena—"

I hung up.

I set the phone on the couch. My hands were shaking. I pressed them flat against my knees.

He didn't know. He didn't remember. Because it hadn't happened yet. Not in this timeline. Not in this life.

I'd given myself away.

I stood up. I walked to Adrian's office. I knocked.

"Come in."

I opened the door. He was at his desk. He looked up. He saw my face.

"What happened?"

"I made a mistake."

He stood. He walked around the desk. "What kind of mistake?"

"I told Julian something. Something I shouldn't have. Something I couldn't explain."

"What did you tell him?"

I hesitated. Then I said, "I told him about the balcony."

Adrian didn't react. He didn't ask what balcony. He didn't look confused. He just looked at me.

"What balcony?" he asked.

"The one he pushed me off. In my previous life. The one I can't explain because it hasn't happened yet."

He was quiet. The city hummed outside. The clock ticked.

"I know," he said.

I stared at him. "You know?"

"I know."

"How?"

He didn't answer. He just looked at me. That same unnamed something crossed his face. This time, he didn't hide it.

"Adrian. How do you know?"

"Because I was there," he said. "I was at your wedding. The first one. I saw you marry him. I saw you die."