LOGINCHAPTER THIRTY-TWOELARAThe dining room was a museum of my childhood. Same crystal chandelier. Same mahogany table that seated twenty. Same portrait of great grandfather Vance glaring down like he was personally offended by everyone alive.Marcus met us at the door, his handshake too tight, his eyes saying I'm sorry before you even walk in there."Father's in a mood," he muttered, low enough that only I could hear. "Fair warning. He's been drinking since noon.""Great," I said. "That's exactly what we needed."The formal dining room smelled like roasting turkey and old money, that particular combination of polished wood, candle wax, and simmering resentment. Mother had outdone herself with the centerpiece. Orange and gold arrangements. Tiny pumpkins. The kind of effort meant to distract from the war zone.Father was already seated at the head of the table, his third glass of wine in hand if the empty bottles on the sideboard were any indication. His face went from neutral to granite
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE JULIANElara emerged from her room around 9 AM, finding me still in my study, papers and legal documents scattered across my desk."You've been up early," she observed, leaning against the doorframe."Couldn't sleep much. Too much to coordinate.""About Blackwell?""Yes. I have some updates, actually. Can we talk?"She settled into the chair across from my desk, studying my expression with growing concern. "What's happened?""My security team confirmed the highway incident was deliberate. Traced back to Blackwell through shell company ownership."Her face paled. "So he really did try to hurt me.""It appears so. I've filed for a restraining order, which should be processed within the next few days. But I've also taken some additional precautions.""What kind of precautions?"I took a deep breath, knowing this conversation would be difficult. "I've hired additional security. A discreet detail that will be following you whenever you leave the penthouse."Her expressi
CHAPTER THIRTY JULIANAfter Elara went to bed, I stayed up until nearly 2 AM, coordinating with my security team and legal counsel, trying to construct a comprehensive response to Blackwell's escalating threats.My head of security, a former FBI agent named Marcus Webb, no relation to Elara's family, thankfully, arrived at the penthouse the following morning before Elara woke, meeting me in my study."I've reviewed the traffic camera footage from yesterday's incident," Webb said, pulling out his laptop. "This wasn't reckless driving. Watch this."He played the footage, showing a dark sedan deliberately swerving into Elara's lane, the maneuver too precise, too calculated to be accidental."License plate?" I asked."Registered to a shell company. But I traced the ownership structure back through three layers, and it eventually connects to Blackwell Holdings."My jaw clenched. "So he did order this.""Or someone acting on his behalf did. We can't prove direct orders from Blackwell himse
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE ELARA The first sign that something was wrong came on a Wednesday morning, three weeks after our visit to St. Mary's, when my credit card was declined at the grocery store. I stood at the checkout counter, embarrassed, as the cashier tried the card a second time. "I'm sorry, it's still not going through," she said apologetically. "That's strange," I said, pulling out a backup card. "Try this one instead." That one worked, but the confusion nagged at me throughout the day. When I got home, I called my bank, only to discover that my primary account, the one linked to my father's family accounts, which I still had access to despite everything—had been frozen. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Hartmann," the representative said, "but it appears Richard Vance has requested a review of all accounts associated with the Vance family trust. Your access has been temporarily suspended pending that review." "He can't do that," I said, frustration rising. "That account has my name on it
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTJULIANAfter Elara disappeared into her room, I remained standing in the hallway, my heart still racing from our conversation.She'd asked directly why I'd really agreed to this marriage, and I'd come so close to telling her everything, about the seven years of carrying feelings for her, about keeping that debate program in my desk drawer, about how seeing her again at that gallery had felt like finally being granted permission to hope for something I'd never thought possible.But fear had won out over honesty, just as it had every time I'd considered revealing the truth since we'd started this contract marriage.I made my way to my own room, lying awake for a long while, thinking about her words: I'm not going to leave, Julian. Not unless you want me to.Could I trust that? After watching my parents abandon me so easily, after building an entire persona around never being vulnerable enough to be hurt again, could I actually believe that Elara might stay, might ch
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVENELARAI lay in bed that night, unable to sleep, replaying the afternoon at St. Mary's over and over in my mind.Julian on the floor, surrounded by children, doing dragon voices with complete abandon. The way his entire demeanor had shifted, no careful control, no calculated business persona, just genuine, unguarded joy.I'd married a man capable of that kind of tenderness, and somehow I hadn't known it existed beneath his careful public composure.Around midnight, unable to settle my thoughts, I got up and made my way toward the kitchen for water, passing by the library on my way. The door was open, soft light spilling into the hallway.Julian sat in his usual chair, but he wasn't reading. He was just staring into the dying embers of the fireplace, lost in thought."Can't sleep either?" I asked from the doorway.He looked up, something vulnerable in his expression before he composed himself slightly. "Too much to think about, apparently.""Can I join you?""Of cou
E L A R A"Elara, darling, wake up." I groaned as I pulled my silk pillow over my head, blocking out my mother's voice and the morning sunlight slipping through my bedroom windows."Leave me alone, Mother. It's not even morning yet." I said, my voice groggy."It's nine thirty, and we have your fina
J U L I A NI watched Elara Vance walk away, my mind still processing what had just happened.She proposed marriage. To me.A Vance proposed marriage to a Hartmann.My grandfather, Eduard would have had a heart attack.I pulled out my phone from my pocket and called Dec."Come back here. Now," I sa
E L A R AI somehow made it back to the main gallery without my legs giving up on me.My heart was pounding so hard I thought everyone could hear it.But wait, he said yes.Julian Hartmann said yes.I grabbed my champagne tray with shaking hands and tried to blend back in with the other servers, bu
J U L I A NI stared at the woman in the waiter's uniform, trying to place her face.There was something familiar about her, the sharp green eyes, the way she held herself with perfect posture despite clearly being nervous.Then it clicked.Elara Vance.Charles Vance's granddaughter. Richard Vance'







