Chapter 3 - The Corporate ExecutionBy Monday morning, the tremor had begun in the commercial real estate markets.
I sat at a sleek glass desk in Julian’s private office, wearing a silk blouse and tailored trousers his housekeeper had provided, staring at a Bloomberg terminal.
Damian’s architectural firm, Cross & Sterling Associates, had just lost their largest municipal contract—a forty-million-dollar waterfront revitalization project in Long Island City.
The door burst open, and Julian walked in, rolling up his sleeves, looking like a man who had just dismantled an empire before breakfast.
“Is it done?” I asked, standing up.
“The city council unanimously voted to terminate Cross & Sterling’s contract thirty minutes ago,” Julian said calmly, pouring himself a cup of black coffee. “Furthermore, every major venture capital fund in the tristate area has received a comprehensive audit of Cross & Sterling’s financial liabilities. Turns out Damian has been embezzling client development funds to pay for his lavish lifestyle and Victoria Langford’s engagement ring.”
I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth. “Embezzling? Damian is arrogant, but he’s not stupid—at least, I didn't think he was.”
“Desperation makes men stupid,” Julian replied, walking over to the desk and handing me a fresh cup of coffee. “When he lost my backing at the Astor Grand, his primary investors panicked and demanded an immediate financial review. It took my legal team less than twelve hours to find the paper trail.”
My phone buzzed violently on the glass desk.
I looked down. The screen flashed with Damian’s name.
I stared at it, the ghost of my old heartbreak threatening to stir in my chest, but as I looked up into Julian’s steady, unfaltering blue eyes, the ghost turned to ash.
I swiped the screen and hit speakerphone.
“Ava! Ava, please, you have to help me!” Damian’s voice was frantic, cracking with genuine panic. In the background, I could hear shouting and the heavy slamming of doors. “Your friend—your billionaire friend, Julian Vance—he’s destroying my firm! They’re freezing our accounts! The police are downstairs!”
“You poured champagne down my dress, Damian,” I said, my voice eerily calm.
“It was a joke! A stupid joke, I swear to God! Victoria dumped me the second the news broke! Ava, please, talk to Julian! Tell him to call off his lawyers! We were together for four years, remember? We loved each other!”
“No, Damian,” I answered softly, a profound sense of closure washing over me. “I loved an illusion. You loved yourself. And now, you’re paying the bill.”
I tapped the screen, ending the call, and tossed the phone onto the desk.
Julian smiled, a slow, deeply satisfied expression that made him look dangerous and breathtakingly handsome.
“Well handled, Ms. Vance,” he murmured.
I blinked. “Vance? We aren't even married yet.”
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Julian reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a small black velvet box, and knelt on one knee right there on the minimalist hardwood floor.
“Then let’s fix that immediately,” Julian said, opening the box to reveal a flawless, vintage cushion-cut diamond ring that caught the morning light. “Marry me, Ava. Let me spend the rest of my life proving to you what true devotion looks like.”
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