CHAPTER THIRTEEN – EXPOSED

The sound was soft: just a quiet click.

But Julian heard it.

His head snapped around sharply, and his eyes narrowed on the van across the street. A shadow was ducking inside it with a camera. The flash had never appeared; the hurried posture, speed, silence… It was unmistakable.

Someone had shadowed them.

Someone had taken the shot.

Aiden had seen it too and stiffened against Julian. "Did they just—?"

Julian tugged his arm. "Get in the car. Now."

As soon as the doors closed, the car sped away with a loud roar, and Julian was racing into the foggy night like he was running from something. Not a single word passed between them as they cut through side streets, awkwardly sliding through sharp turns, checking on mirrors, avoiding the main road. Aiden gripped the seat tightly, watching the car’s lights in the distance get smaller and smaller.

"I thought we were being careful."

"We were," Julian muttered. "Which means someone wasn't watching me; they were watching you."

Silence fell.

Aiden twisted in his gut. "So this was a setup?"

Julian's teeth gritted. ‘Harold's team is working fast,’ he said. “Faster than I thought they'd move.”

Aiden turned toward him, voice tight. "You think he sent someone to follow me?"

"I think he made you the story before he kicked me out of the building," Julian answered. "And now he has the picture he needs to control the narrative."

"But you're not CEO anymore, so he doesn't need to ruin you anymore. He got what he wanted," Aiden said.

Julian bit his lip in bitterness. "He doesn't care about me. He cares about the company. And the VanDermere name."

Aiden's heart hammered. "So what happens now?"

Julian did not immediately answer.

He turned sharply once more, heading toward a quiet part of the city. The rain had picked up again, hissing against the windshield like the sky was warning them.

Eventually, he pulled the car into a narrow garage—an underground space beneath what looked like a private townhouse. The gate slid closed behind them with a hard screech.

Julian shut the car.

“Now,” he said softly, “we plan our next move.”

—

The room above the garage was stark and clean—clearly a place Julian had used before but never shared with anyone else. A loft-style safe house. White walls. Minimal furniture. No pictures. No traces of a personal life.

Julian tossed his coat aside, his wet shirt clinging to his frame.

Aiden stood awkwardly by the window. “Do you really think they’ll go public with it?”

Julian looked at him, eyes unreadable. “You’re not thinking like them yet. The minute that photo hits a headline, you’re not a person anymore. You’re a story. One they get to control.”

“Then let’s get ahead of it,” Aiden said quickly. “Tell the truth before they do. Clear the air.”

Julian gave a dry laugh. “The truth doesn’t matter. Not when the lie is more profitable.”

Aiden stepped toward him. “Then what do we do? Sit here and wait for your family to bury us both?”

Julian’s eyes darkened. “No. We make them regret underestimating us.”

He crossed to a sleek cabinet and pulled out a black case. Inside were documents, a laptop, and a drive. Everything was precise. Clean. Prepared.

“You’ve been expecting this,” Aiden said.

“I’ve been preparing,” Julian corrected. “For months. I’ve been collecting everything Harold has covered up—offshore deals, shell companies, NDA payoffs. I didn’t think I’d use it this soon, but if he wants a war, he’ll get one.”

Aiden blinked. “You were building a case?”

Julian nodded, finally meeting his eyes. “I wasn’t just trying to keep my position. I was trying to destroy the rot at the center of the company. You gave me a reason to hurry.”

The way he spoke, low and intense, took Aiden’s breath away.

And suddenly, the tension between them wasn’t just fear and frustration.

It was electricity.

“You risked all that…” Aiden said, voice softening. “For what? For me?”

Julian stepped closer. “For truth. For control. And yes… for you.”

Aiden’s eyes burned.

“I don’t want to be your weakness,” he whispered.

Julian’s voice dropped. “You never were.”

Aiden didn’t know who moved first. But the next moment, they collided in a kiss that was nothing like the one by the river.

This one was hunger and fury and desperation rolled into something sharp and real. Julian’s hands slid into Aiden’s hair, pulling him closer as if the space between them had become unbearable. Aiden responded in kind—pushing Julian back against the wall, fingers digging into the wet fabric of his shirt, tasting the edge of everything they’d been too afraid to say.

Clothes came off in staggered urgency. Skin met skin in the dark, lit only by the flash of headlights far outside the window.

When they finally broke apart, breathless, tangled in each other on the bed, it was Aiden who whispered the first words.

“What if they come for me?”

Julian was silent for a long moment.

Then: “They will.”

Aiden tensed.

“But this time,” Julian added, “they’ll have to come through me first.”

—

At the exact moment Julian made that promise, Harold VanDermere stood in his private office, staring at his phone.

The leaked photo was already circulating.

Julian and Aiden.

In each other’s arms.

The headline?

“VanDermere Scandal: Ex-CEO’s Secret Affair with Male Employee Confirmed.”

Harold smiled faintly.

Then turned to the man beside him.

“Prepare the legal response,” he said. “Let them squirm. And when they run to the press? We’ll burn what’s left of his name.”

The man nodded and left.

And Harold poured himself another drink.

Unbothered.

Unmoved.

But he hadn’t noticed the third party watching from the shadows.

Clarissa.

And she wasn’t smiling.