The city night was quiet, the cool autumn breeze sweeping through the quiet street outside Clara’s apartment complex two nights prior.
Jullian sat in his idling Aston Martin across the road, the low purr of the engine filling the dark interior. He had spent the last three weeks inventing excuses to drop by the marketing division, leaving subtle coffees on her desk, and offering rides that Clara’s sharp-tongue turned down.
To the high-society elite, Jullian Montgomery was an untouchable playboy who chased fleeting thrills. But Clara Reed’s stubborn pride and fierce vulnerability had burrowed under his skin in a way he had never experienced before.
He was just about to pull away and concede defeat when a figure walked into the amber glow of the streetlamp.
Clara was walking slowly, her coat pulled tight around her small frame, her heels clicking unevenly against the pavement. Before she even reached the glass doors of her lobby, her knees gave out. She sank down onto the curb, burying her face into her hands.
Her shoulders hitched with quiet, ragged sobs.
Jullian cut the engine and stepped out of his car, crossing the quiet street in long, hurried strides. He didn’t speak. He simply dropped down onto the curb beside her, his broad shoulder brushing against hers.
Clara flinched, quickly trying to wipe her cheeks. "Go away, Jullian. Don’t look at me like this."
"I’m not going anywhere, Clara," Jullian murmured, his baritone uncharacteristically soft.
He reached out, his fingers gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He braced for her to snap at him, to put up that sharp, defensive wall she always hid behind.
Instead, a broken breath tore from her throat, and she leaned sideways, resting her forehead against his shoulder.
Jullian wrapped an arm around her, letting her lean into his warmth until her ragged breaths slowly evened out.
"Talk to me," Jullian said quietly. "What happened?"
"Mia is dead," Clara whispered, the words catching in her throat. "Vivian’s assistant... They found her in a motel. When Vivian tried to kidnap me and hurt Ana, I ran. I hid behind my fear, told Damian I wouldn’t testify, and thought staying quiet would keep me safe. But Mia became her victim, and she’s gone. I couldn’t live with the guilt anymore, Jullian."
Jullian’s brow furrowed, a chill running down his spine. "Clara... what did you do?"
"I just came from the central precinct," Clara admitted, her voice trembling. "I gave them everything. The sworn testimony linking Vivian directly to the attack."
Jullian went completely rigid. "You went to the police alone? Clara... Vivian is cornered and dangerously backed by some powerful men! Get in my car right now. I’m taking you to a secure property with armed security."
Clara shook her head, standing up on shaky legs and pulling her coat tighter around herself.
"No," Clara said softly, a tired smile touching her lips. "I don’t want bodyguards, Jullian. I don’t want to hide in fear. For the first time in weeks, my conscience is clear. I just want to forget all of it. I just want one normal night."
Jullian stood up, his sharp eyes searching her exhausted, beautiful face. The tension in his chest gave way to something far deeper.
"A normal night?" Jullian asked, a gentle, lopsided smirk softening his features. "Then let me show you what a normal night looks like."
He opened the passenger door of his Aston Martin, holding his hand out to her with the easy, respectful grace of a true gentleman.
Clara looked at his outstretched hand, knowing full well the dangerous interest he held for her. For the first time, she didn’t fight it. Just for tonight, she slipped her hand into his.
He didn’t take her to a flashy, high-society restaurant. Jullian drove her to a quiet, dimly lit Italian bistro tucked away on a private terrace overlooking the bay.
He pulled out her chair, listened to her talk about everything outside of boardroom politics, and made her laugh until the dark shadows behind her eyes began to fade.
After dinner, he drove up to the coastal overlook at the edge of the city. Leaning against the hood of the car under the vast canopy of stars, they shared a thermos of warm tea, letting the silence between them feel comfortable rather than cold.
Clara knew he was pursuing her, and for the first time, she allowed herself to lean into the safety he offered.
When he finally pulled up outside her apartment building late that night, the comfortable calm settled over the car.
"Thank you, Jullian," Clara whispered.
She unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned across the console, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek. But as she pulled away, Jullian caught the faint, lingering flicker of apprehension hidden beneath her lashes.
Before she could step out, Jullian’s hand reached out, catching her gently by the waist and pulling her back toward him.
He leaned down slowly, his eyes holding hers in the dim interior of the car, giving her every second to pull away.
She didn’t move.
His lips landed softly against hers. The kiss began slow and tender, testing the waters, but the moment Clara’s hands reached up and buried themselves into his hair, the restraint broke.
Jullian’s hands slid firmly around her waist, hauling her flush against his chest as the kiss deepened into something desperate and consuming.
He tasted the sweetness and the lingering fear on her lips, pulling her into a breathless, intoxicating rhythm that made both of their hearts race until neither of them could draw air.
When he finally broke the kiss, his forehead rested against hers, their ragged breaths mingling in the quiet space.
"Lock your door, Clara," Jullian whispered against her lips, his voice thick with raw emotion. "Keep your phone in your hand. If you feel unsafe for even a second, you call me."
Clara looked at him with flushed cheeks, her eyes softening into pure warmth. "I will. Goodnight, Jullian."
She stepped out and walked into the lobby, the glass doors sliding shut behind her. Jullian watched her disappear into the elevator, completely unaware that it would be the last time he would see her walk through those doors.
_________________________
The confession left the drawing room in suffocating silence.
Anastasia sat frozen on the sofa, the phantom weight of Clara’s gentle friendship pressing down on her chest like lead.
She had survived the alley only because Clara had taken the brunt of the danger first... and now, Clara was paying the price for trying to do what was right.
"She gave that statement because she was carrying the guilt of what happened to me," Ana whispered, her voice cracking as a single tear escaped her lashes. "She did it to protect everyone else."
She turned sharply to Damian, grabbing his wrist where his heavy hand still rested over her lap.
"Damian, please," Ana pleaded, her pride stripping away in front of Victoria, Valerie and Jullian. "You have the influence. You have the private investigators and connections. You have to find her before Vivian does something irreversible. Don’t let Clara become another body in a motel."
Damian didn’t answer immediately. His dark, obsidian gaze moved from Ana’s desperate, glistening eyes down to the tight grip of her trembling fingers on his wrist.
He slowly pulled his hand back, sliding it into his pocket as he stood up to his full, towering height.
"Walter," Damian called out into the quiet room.
His head of executive security stepped through the doorway instantly, bowing his head. "Sir."
"Open our private communication lines to the precinct commissioner and our corporate legal firm," Damian commanded, his baritone dropping into a cold, lethal register. "I want an emergency freeze placed on every offshore account, charter flight, and shell company associated with Vivian Stark. Contact our private intelligence team... pull the city’s traffic grid footage around Clara’s apartment from 4:00 AM onward."
Damian’s eyes narrowed into sharp, calculating slits.
"Vivian needs cash, transport, and a hideout to stay off the grid. Cut off her funding, track her burner transactions, and squeeze her remaining associates until someone gives up an address."
Jullian stood up, his jaw set, a dark, desperate fire igniting behind his exhausted eyes. "I’ll cross-reference the Montgomery family’s real estate holdings with Stark’s old associates. I know where Vivian used to run when things got messy. I’m coming with you to the office."
Damian locked eyes with Jullian, giving him a single, rigid nod. "Let’s go."
Before striding toward the double doors, Damian paused beside Anastasia. He leaned down, his broad hand coming up to cup the side of her neck, his thumb wiping the stray tear from her cheek with a firm, grounding pressure.
"Stay inside the estate," Damian murmured, his low voice audible only to her, thick with possessive authority and an unyielding promise. "I will find your friend. But when I bring her back... remember the terms you promised me upstairs."
He pulled away and strode out of the drawing room with Jullian and Walter at his heels, leaving Anastasia trembling in the storm building inside her.
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter