Chapter 96
But when I got home I couldn’t sleep.
I told myself it was the late hour or the stack of reports waiting for my review, but that was a lie I didn’t bother believing
The truth was simpler: I couldn’t get Emily’s face out of my mind.
Not the polished version from the fundraiser, all high cheekbones and practiced charm. Not the public figure who knew how to make a microphone fall quiet with one line.
It was the version of her she gave to her ex. To Michael.
I had to force myself not to call up a background file on him. I already knew more than I wanted to: beta–born, childhood sweetheart, strategically groomed by her father as a future match
He’d been her whole world once. And then, he shattered it without second thought. I remembered look of betrayal and hurt of her face at that hotel.
Still, when I’d seen them speaking tonight, it hadn’t looked like animosity. It had looked like… a shared memory.
I paced the edge of the sitting room, the fire flickering low behind me. The house was quiet this late, and I tried to be quiet. My footsteps sounded loud even to my own ears, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.
The glass in my hand was long empty. I hadn’t bothered pouring another. I didn’t need more reasons to lose control.
I wanted to knock on her door. Ask if she was awake. Ask if she was thinking about him. About us. About whatever it was we were doing.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I played out every version of that conversation in my head. In one, she smiled kindly and said I was overreacting. In another, she told me I had no right to ask.
And in the worst one, she told me she still loved him. Wanted to patch things up with him.
I ran a hand through my hair, growling low under my breath. What was wrong with me? This wasn’t supposed to matter. She wasn’t supposed to matter like this.
We started as a contract. A merger. I’d told myself from the beginning that emotion couldn’t touch it. That we could build something useful, powerful, and maybe even learn to like each other.
But then I started looking at her as more. She started to look at me like she saw something more too. Like maybe she could want me. And gods help me, I wanted her in return.
But tonight reminded me that wanting wasn’t the same as having And I didn’t know if I’d ever be the kind of man she’d give herself to completely.
A quiet ringing broke into my spiraling thoughts. It was my phone.
“Julian?” I answered.
“Apologies,” he said smoothly. “Didn’t realize you were still up. I expected to leave a message.”
“Clearly you did,” I muttered, “What is it?”
“An early version of next week’s media monitoring report. Something… interesting came up regarding public sentiment after tonight’s event.”
My phone pinged with an incoming email. I opened it and skimmed the attachment.
It was a side–by–side image of Emily and Michael in conversation. And me across the room, jaw clenched.
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Chapter 96
It looked like love a triangle. A story waiting to be told.
“The press is circling,” Julian said mildly. “Would you like me to draft a response?”
I didn’t answer. I was too busy staring at the photos, wondering how much of what I was feeling would show up in my expression if someone zoomed in.
Too much.
“Leave it,” I said. And hung up, my patience at its end for men who circled my… Emily.
I sat down slowly, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees, thy thoughts returning to her again.
Emily hadn’t chosen Michael. But she hadn’t chosen me either.
And maybe the part that burned most wasn’t jealousy. It was the net knowing if she ever would
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