บททั้งหมดของ His Dangerous Truth: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

Julian leaves Blackwell Group with the recording in his pocket and Adrian’s voice still under his skin.That is the part he hates.The interview should feel like work. A difficult subject, a powerful company, a man trained to make every answer sound clean enough for publication. Julian should be thinking about structure, quotes, angle, and how to turn Adrian Blackwell’s controlled little admissions into a sharper follow-up piece.Instead, he spends the elevator ride remembering the moment Adrian leaned over the table and turned off the recorder.The memory comes back too clearly.Adrian’s hand near his. Adrian standing close enough for Julian to smell the clean, expensive scent of his skin. Adrian’s voice dropping when he said, “Ask me again.”Julian grips the strap of his bag harder.It was nothing.That is what he tells himself as the elevator moves downward. It was a man protecting his image. It was a CEO trying to take control of the interview. It was power play, arrogance, and ir

Julian arrives at the Ashford Hotel twenty minutes early and regrets it almost immediately.The lounge is too beautiful in the way expensive hotels are always beautiful when they want people to feel underdressed. Low lights, dark wood, soft chairs, gold lamps, quiet music, and waiters who move as if even their footsteps have been trained. The kind of place where people do not raise their voices because money has already done the shouting for them.Julian stands near the entrance with his notebook under one arm and tells himself this is just another interview.That would be easier to believe if Adrian Blackwell were not standing across the lounge with Celeste Carrington beside him.Julian sees them before they see him.Adrian is near the bar, speaking with two older men in suits. He has one hand in his pocket and the other curled loosely around a glass. His jacket is open, his posture relaxed enough to look natural, though Julian now knows nothing about Adrian’s public body is truly na

By the time Julian reaches Blackwell Group, most of the building has gone quiet.The lobby is not empty, but it has lost the daytime sound of power pretending to be busy. Only two security guards remain near the front desk. The flowers on the reception table look too fresh for the hour, and the marble floor reflects the overhead lights with the cold shine of a place that does not know how to relax.Julian should have refused to come.He tells himself that as he signs in. He tells himself again when the guard gives him a visitor badge. He tells himself a third time when the elevator doors open and he steps inside alone.Adrian’s message had arrived forty minutes ago, short and controlled, as if written by someone who wanted every word to deny the hour.“I need to discuss corrections to the draft. Tonight, if possible.”Julian had stared at the message for longer than he wanted to admit.He could have said no. He should have said no. Normal corrections could wait until morning. Professi

The article goes live at 7:00 in the morning.Adrian sees it at 7:03.He has been awake long before then, sitting in his penthouse dining room with untouched coffee cooling beside his hand and the gray morning pressing against the windows. Sleep had come in shallow pieces, broken by the echo of Julian’s voice in his office, by the sight of Celeste’s name lighting up his phone, by the quiet click of the door after Julian walked out.He had answered Celeste.He had done what he was supposed to do.His voice had been calm. Hers had been polished, a little tired, concerned about the event schedule and the way speculation had started attaching itself to Julian’s name. Adrian had responded correctly to every sentence. He had confirmed the dinner time, reassured her about the foundation board’s concerns, and promised there would be no more unplanned confrontations with Julian Hart.The lie had sat in his mouth like metal.Now Julian’s new article is on his screen, and Adrian understands with

Julian does not follow Adrian into the conference room immediately.He tells Sarah he needs two minutes, then steps into the narrow hallway behind the newsroom where old framed covers hang slightly crooked on the walls and the vending machine hums like it has been tired for years. He can still feel Adrian’s stare on him, that cold, sharp attention that had landed on Evan’s hand as if a touch between friends were a crime.It should not matter.Adrian Blackwell does not get to be jealous. He does not get to look at Julian as if someone else standing close to him is an offense. He does not get to ask for private understanding, then walk back into the world where Celeste Carrington is waiting beside his name.Julian presses his thumb hard into the edge of his notebook until the corner bends.The door opens behind him.“Before you bite my head off,” Evan says, “I came in peace.”Julian does not turn. “That was peace?”“That was restraint.”“You embarrassed me.”“No.” Evan comes to stand be