Alle Kapitel von Binds of Silk and Steel: Kapitel 1 – Kapitel 8

​“Mr. Vance,” my secretary repeats after a pause. “Did you hear me?”I did. Of course I did. As if I can help but listen to every word that leaves her mouth.“The board of directors is threatening a hostile takeover if you don't give them a reason not to,” she continues. “They think you're too cold, too distant. You haven't had a public partner in years, and they're spinning it to make you look unstable for leadership. You have until the end of the quarter to find someone, anyone, to prove them wrong.”I close my eyes for a fraction of a second as I try to make sense of what she's saying. Not a single person in this firm or anywhere else knows the true reason why I haven't dated anyone in the past few years, not since Clare started working for me, three years ago.“You mean to tell me,” I hiss, “that if I don’t start dating someone to appeal to their idiotic minds, they will take over my company?”I stand up so abruptly that my chair almost falls over. “I am the CEO of this company,”

A week later, ​​we're in my car heading toward the charity gala. Clare is sitting next to me, staring out the window, absolutely silent, yet the silence is telling.​The subtle tightening of her jaw and the way she refuses to look me in the eyes make it clear that she's currently swimming in shame, a feeling I desperately want to erase from her dictionary.​I had arrived unannounced at her apartment earlier that evening to pick her up. For a terrifying fraction of a second, standing in the cramped, dimly lit hallway of the decaying brick complex, I thought my driver had punched in the wrong address. But no, it was hers.​The building smelled faintly of damp concrete and boiled cabbage. Inside her flat, the peeling floral wallpaper hung like dead skin from the corners of the ceiling, stained by years of water leaks from the unit above. A single, rickety bookshelf bowed under the weight of law texts and romance novels, and the linoleum kitchen floor was scuffed down to its dark underlay

Julian's POV:​“We're leaving. Now,” I growl, lacing my fingers through hers again and leading her toward the exit.​We don't speak a single word as the driver pulls up to the curb and we slide into the leather-lined interior of the car. The heavy doors thud shut, sealing us off from the noise of the gala, but the suffocating weight of what just happened follows us right inside.​Clare immediately shifts away, angling her body rigidly toward the window, her hands clenched so tightly in her lap that her knuckles are white.​Logan's vile words echo relentlessly in the dark recesses of my mind, loud and mocking: She hasn't told you, has she? You're in for a surprise.​My jaw clenches so hard a back tooth aches with a dull, sharp throb. What is she hiding from me? What dark corner of her past is that predator holding over her head? The agonizing lack of control makes my skin crawl.​“Clare,” I start, my voice cutting through the quiet, but she turns her head and slices me off before I can

Julian's POV​The hum of the engine should be a soothing sound, a quiet punctuation to an exhausting evening. Instead, the silence in the back of the car feels heavy, charged.​My heart is beating wildly against my chest, a frantic rhythm that tells me something is horribly wrong.​I stare out the tinted window, yet my mind refuses to let me focus on the passing trees and street signs.​The memory of that slammed door rings in my ears, but more than that, it’s Logan’s parting shot that’s eating away at me: She hasn't told you, has she? You're in for a surprise.​What could she possibly be hiding? What history does she share with a predator like Logan Benson that makes her look like a deer caught in headlights?​I reach up, dragging a hand over my face, letting out a low, frustrated breath. For the last three years, Clare has been the most stable, unshakeable presence in my life. She knows my schedule before I do, handles my worst moods without blinking, and keeps my multi-million-doll