Chapter 6
After spending a few days with Julian, I realized he was nothing like what the gossip claimed.
Everyone in our circle said he was a spoiled rich kid with zero brains, just a party boy blowing through his inheritance.
But the truth? He saw through things with startling clarity. His takes on the economy were sharp, insightful, even ruthless. He was no airhead. He just wore the mask so well, people stopped asking questions.
Over lunch one day, I found myself watching him speak, fascinated by how easily he tore down a market report. He caught my stare and leaned back in his chair, suddenly aware he might be saying too much.
“You wanna ask,” he said, grinning, “why someone who’s not a total loser lets the world think he is?”
I nodded. “Kind of. Though I’m guessing that whole reputation was built by you on purpose, right?”
Julian’s eyes lit up. “You’re sharper than the others. Most just swallow what they’re fed.”
He stretched his arms out. “The Grant family’s empire is huge. Everyone around me wants a piece. It’s hard to tell who’s real and who’s playing me.”
“So, what? You made yourself look like a screw–up so you could see who tried to take advantage of you?”
He smirked and tapped the table. “Bingo.”
“But… the rumors that you swap girls more often than clothes…”
He nearly choked on his milk. “God, no! That wasn’t my doing. I’ve got most of my people planted in clubs and karaoke lounges. Anyone who spots me there spreads stories. I figured, hey, if the bad boy persona helps, why not ride it?”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or to feel sorry for him.
Julian was younger than me by two years, yet the rumors had been circulating for much longer than that. He must’ve started playing this dangerous game of deception a long time ago.
How many times had he been burned? How many sleepless nights had it taken to build that armor?
After lunch, I dropped him at his office and headed back to mine.
Fresh out of a meeting, I stepped into the hallway and froze.
Ryan was waiting at the end of the corridor. He looked wrecked with his eyes swollen and his jaw bruised, like he hadn’t slept in days.
When he saw me, he stumbled forward, desperation pouring out of him.
“Claire!”
I sidestepped immediately. “What do you want?”
“I was wrong… I know I messed up…” His voice cracked. Tears rolled down his cheeks. “Can you… can you please stop targeting the Carters?
“My dad landed in the hospital from the stress. The company’s falling apart. All our investors pulled out…”
I calmly adjusted my skirt. “This is business, Ryan. You know how it works.”
“But it’s because of that email you sent!” His voice rose as he grabbed my sleeve, panicking. “Claire, we’ve known each other for twenty years! How can you be this heartless?”
I slowly peeled his fingers off one by one. “You were the one who said, and I quote: ‘I dare you to cut off my entire funding line.‘
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Chapter 8
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“And I also told you, we’re done. Personally, professionally. No bridges left.”
His face went ghost white. His lips trembled, but he couldn’t speak. Then, suddenly, he dropped to his knees.
“I’m begging you… I was a fool. I’ll make it right. I’ll treat you better… You remember when we were kids? I had that fever, and you carried me to the ER? You promised to protect me…”
I paused mid–step.
He caught it, and hope flickered back in his eyes. “Yes! You remember, don’t you? We’ve got so many memories. You can’t just throw them away!”
I crouched, level with him, and said calmly, “Do you remember last year, on your birthday, I was running a 102–degree fever? I stayed up all night planning a surprise. You canceled last minute.
“I later found out you were with Amber. There are plenty of moments like that. Need me to remind you of more?”
His face drained of color.
I stood and brushed off my legs. There was nothing on them, but it felt good to make the gesture.
“Ryan, let me make something clear. Just because I didn’t call you out back then doesn’t mean I didn’t see it. I saw everything. So, don’t talk to me about our past. You lost the right to bring it up.”
As the elevator doors opened behind me, I heard him yell after me, his voice raw.
“Claire! You’ll regret this! Karma’s gonna come for you!”
I smiled as I stepped in.
Karma? Please,
My life had never been better.
That evening, I got home to find Julian lying on the couch, chomping on an apple. As soon as he saw me, he pulled me into his arms like a giant Labrador.
“Word is, someone made a scene at your office today?”
I blinked. “How’d you hear about that?”
Julian held up his phone triumphantly. “News travels fast. Everyone’s saying your ex dropped to his knees and begged you to take him back, and you dumped him like a queen.”
I plopped down beside him. “You jealous?”
“Me? Pshh.” He rolled his eyes, then shoved an apple slice into my mouth. “I’m not the type.”
The apple was sweet with a hint of tartness. I turned and kissed the juice off the corner of his lips.
“Even if you were the type, I’d still like you.”
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