Julian Ovenden Bridgerton Novels & Stories

Standing a few feet away, holding a crystal glass of sparkling water, was Julian. He wasn't wearing his usual casual hoodie and messy hair. He was dressed in a simple, immaculate black dress shirt with the top buttons undone, tailored trousers, and a sleek, narrow black leather choker wrapped snugly around his throat—fitted with a polished silver O-ring right at the center. "Julian?" I choked out, my voice barely a whisper above the music. "What... what are you doing here?" Julian let out a quiet, easy chuckle, stepping closer to the archway, his dark eyes scanning my silk gown, the black leather collar, and the intricate silver chain harness draping over my chest.

Beatrice said, dabbing her mouth with a napkin, "you really do carry yourself like your sister did. The resemblance is remarkable." "I wouldn't know," Eva said carefully. "I don't see her often." "No," Beatrice agreed, smiling without warmth. "I imagine running away tends to keep people apart." A ripple of quiet laughter went around the table. Adrian didn't bother hiding his amusement, while Victor said nothing at all, watching Julian at the head of the table with an expression Eva was beginning to recognize as hunger. "Honestly," Adrian said, swirling his wine, "I still don't understand why Julian didn't simply cancel the wedding altogether. Marrying a replacement seems beneath the Castella

"Julian." "We were beginning to think she was a myth," Julian sneered, his eyes sliding down Evelyn’s silk dress with an insulting, slow deliberation. "The board was quite surprised by the sudden... nuptials. Tell me, Evelyn, is it true your father repairs old television sets for a living? I imagine this ballroom must feel rather large compared to your basement."

It was time to keep Darcy in check, or she would only stray. Julian was not too happy to be pushed away. He swiftly got on his feet and snapped Agnes an angry look. “What’s going on? Didn’t you talk about this beforehand? Why doesn’t she know about this?” Julian was aware of his unattractive appearance. He did not care that Darcy had no feelings for him. The point was that he was interested. With enough money, Julian could get any woman he wanted. Though Julian was overweight and unappealing, he was never without women. His wealth drew these women to him.

Selena purred seductively. Julian smiled at her. “You’ll be warm soon enough.” Crash! The teacup slipped from Evelyn’s hand and shattered on the floor. But the pain in her chest was far sharper than any piece of broken porcelain. “You… you have another woman?” Her voice was barely more than a breath. Julian nodded. “Yes. She’s the woman I’ve been looking for. Her father is a man who’s helped me more than anyone else. I’ve been searching for her for years… and unfortunately, I married the wrong woman in the process.”

“You’re just the woman my brother can’t stop looking at. Who he invited to the family gala. Who he danced with in front of everyone. Who’s currently in his penthouse on a Sunday morning. Totally not dating.” “It’s complicated.” “It always is.” Julian plates the pancakes. “But complicated doesn’t mean not real.” The elevator dings. We all freeze. “That’s Mom,” Julian says cheerfully. “Game time.” Lucian’s hand finds mine. Squeezes. “Ready?” he asks. “No.” “Good. Neither am I.” The elevator doors open. Evelyn Blackwood steps out. Tall. Elegant. Ice blonde hair in a perfect chignon. Wearing a suit that costs more than my car.

she said softly, her voice carrying a light, teasing warmth. Julian turned slowly, leaning his lower back against the reinforced glass. He really looked at her, taking in the loose knit of her oversized sweater, the way the ambient light caught the ink smudges on her fingers, and the fierce, independent spirit that refused to be swallowed by the scale of his old world.

Mayfair, London "I am not wearing that gown, Aunt Mel. It's practically indecent!" Olivia groaned. "Of course not! Why do you say that?" her aunt demanded, dangling a maroon taffeta gown before Olivia's eyes. It was beautiful, no doubt. "For one, the bodice is so low that my breasts might pop out at any time." "Olivia Cavendish, that is no way to speak in front of your aunt," she said, trying to look stern.

I said. “You’re right about that, sir.” Bene nodded and reached into his suit jacket to produce an envelope which he placed on the table. “What’s that, Bene?” I pointed at the envelope. “It’s a picture of Laura Williams, the prime suspect in this case and Julienne’s mother,” Bene explained. I nodded and picked up the brown envelope, opening it and bringing out the pictures inside. Julienne has always been the splitting image of her mother. She was feisty and she had a sunshine personality on top of that, she was drop-dead gorgeous as a matter of fact.

And beside her stood Julian Vane. Julian Vane. The name alone was enough to make stock markets tremble. He was the country’s most eligible bachelor, a tech mogul with a face carved from marble and a reputation for ruthless efficiency. To the world, he was the perfect match. A savior for my family’s crumbling finances. A gentleman.