The air in the wine lounge felt so heavy that I could barely breathe.

Julian’s dark eyes stayed locked on mine, his hand still resting on the table above the folder in my hands. The sweet, romantic man from an hour ago was gone. In his place was a predator who had just caught his prey.

My heart pounded against my ribs like a trapped bird.

"Julian... what is this?" I managed to ask, trying to keep my voice steady as I lifted the paper into the dim light. "Why is my name, my home address, and my savings listed on a two and a half million dollar loan application?"

For three painful seconds, Julian just stared at me.

Then his face changed.

The cold look disappeared, replaced by one of deep embarrassment. He let out a long breath, dropped heavily into his chair, and ran both hands through his dark hair.

"God, Clara... I am so sorry," he whispered, looking up at me with such a helpless look that my stomach dropped. "You weren't supposed to see that yet. It was supposed to be a surprise."

"A surprise?" I repeated, unable to believe him. "Putting my name as a guarantor on a private loan is a surprise?"

"It's not a personal loan, darling," Julian said softly, reaching across the table and placing his warm hands over mine. He gave them a gentle squeeze, his voice becoming soft and sweet. "My asset management team is changing the way my main trust is set up. I'm creating a private real estate foundation in your name—a joint property plan for our future. My junior analyst prepared those papers as a temporary draft using public records because I told him I wanted you as my co trustee!"

He shook his head, looking angry with himself.

"I specifically told him not to put the draft papers in my meeting folder until the legal terms were finished! Clara, look at me. Do you really think I brought you here tonight to scam you? I have millions! Why would I need your savings?"

His explanation sounded so perfect, so generous. He was offering me a part of his empire while making my doubts seem like a simple mistake caused by a careless employee.

"Julian..." I swallowed hard. My analyst brain was screaming that temporary papers didn't need my social security number, but the foolish part of me desperately wanted to believe him. "You can't just prepare papers with my name without asking me."

"I know, I know," he murmured, leaning over to place a soft, sorry kiss on the back of my hand. "I got carried away. I was just so eager to show you that I'm serious about us. Forgive me?"

I forced myself to nod.

"Okay."

I spent the next twenty-four hours going through a complete nightmare.

I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. I sat on my sofa staring at the ceiling, my mind fighting with itself.

One moment, I felt like a crazy person ruining my chance at real love because I was too suspicious. The next, every instinct inside me was screaming that I was walking straight into danger.

Nora's words kept playing in my head.

"You're self-sabotaging!

Julian's sweet promises kept repeating in my mind.

I felt like I was losing my mind.

Around 8:00 PM the next evening, a soft knock sounded at my apartment door.

I froze, slowly walking toward the door and looking through the peephole.

Julian stood in the dim hallway.

He held a huge bouquet of rare white lilies in one arm, while his suit jacket hung over his shoulder. He looked tired, handsome, and completely sincere.

I unlocked the door and opened it just an inch.

"Julian? What are you doing here? You didn't text."

"I couldn't stay away," he said softly, gently pushing the door open and stepping inside. The sweet smell of lilies filled my small apartment. He placed the flowers on the table near the door and reached for me, pulling me into his arms before I could stop him.

"I hated how we left things yesterday, Clara. I couldn't stand knowing you were sitting here doubting me."

"Julian, I just... I need some space to think," I murmured, placing my hands against his chest.

"I don't want to give you space," he whispered, his voice low and sweet. "I want to give you everything."

He placed one hand behind my head and leaned down, kissing me deeply. His hands moved to my waist, lifting me easily and guiding me toward my bedroom.

My heart began to race, not from excitement, but from a sudden feeling of panic.

Julian laid me back on the bed and leaned over me. His fingers moved to the top buttons of my silk blouse, opening them one by one as he kissed along my jaw and neck.

"Julian, wait," I said, placing my hands firmly against his shoulders and gently pushing him back. "Wait, please. I... I'm not comfortable right now."

He stopped, his chest rising and falling against mine.

For a moment, a flash of anger crossed his dark eyes. His expression became cold.

But just as quickly, it disappeared and was replaced by a soft, loving look.

"Shh," he whispered, resting his forehead against mine. His thumbs gently moved over my cheeks. "Look at me, Clara. You don't have to be afraid of me. I love you. I've loved you since we were seventeen. I'm never going to hurt you. Trust me, please?"

His sweet words slowly weakened my fear.

He was my first love.

He was the boy who used to hold my hand in the high school hallway.

I forced my stiff body to relax and let out a shaky breath.

"Okay," I whispered.

A small, satisfied smile touched his lips as he leaned down again, resting his face against my neck.

LOUD, HARSH RINGING.

The loud sound of my work phone suddenly broke the silence. It rang through the room like an alarm.

Julian groaned against my skin, his grip tightening around my waist.

"Ignore it," he muttered, trying to pull me back down

.

"I can't," I gasped, slipping out from under him and reaching for my purse on the nightstand. "It's my emergency work line. Only the senior partners have this number."

I answered the phone.

"Clara Morgan."

"Clara! It's Senior Partner Vance," my managing director's worried voice came through the phone. "Get down to the main headquarters in the financial district right now. We have a serious problem with an international audit involving the European accounts. We need our best risk analyst there immediately to secure the files."

"I'm on my way," I said instantly.

Relief rushed through me so quickly that I almost felt weak.

I ended the call and looked at Julian.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me with a tight, unreadable expression.

"I have to go," I said, buttoning my blouse with shaking fingers. "It's an emergency at work."

"Now?" Julian asked, his voice showing his anger. "Clara, it's nine o'clock at night."

"It's my job, Julian," I said firmly, grabbing my coat and purse. "I'll call you tomorrow."

Twenty minutes later, I slammed the door of my taxi and rushed through the huge glass doors of Sterling & Croft Financial's headquarters.

The building was almost completely dark, except for the emergency lights that cast long, strange shadows across the marble floor.

My heels clicked loudly as I hurried toward the private executive elevators, my mind still filled with Julian's kisses, the loan papers, and the sudden call from work.

I stepped into the elevator, pressed the button for the 14th floor, and leaned against the mirrored wall, taking deep, shaky breaths.

Ding.

The doors opened to the dark executive floor.

I rushed into the hallway, quickly turning toward the main conference room—and crashed straight into a solid wall of a man.

"Whoa!"

My purse slipped from my hand, spilling everything across the carpet as I stumbled backward.

Strong, warm hands caught my arms at once, stopping me from falling.

"Easy there," a deep, calm voice said.

I looked up, breathing hard.

Standing in front of me was a man I had never seen at the firm before.

He was tall, with broad shoulders and a dark gray suit that looked expensive but simple. He had dark, sharp eyes behind silver-framed glasses, a clean cut jaw, and a calm presence that felt completely different from the chaos in my head.

"I'm so sorry," I stammered, pulling back as he immediately let go of my arms and stepped away to give me space. "I was rushing—"

"Clara Morgan right?"

He didn't look bothered at all.

He bent down, picked up my notepad and lip balm, and handed them back to me with a calm smile.

"I'm Dr. Daniel Mercer. Senior Lead Risk Consultant. Partner Vance called me in to lead the team investigating the audit problem."

I took my things, staring at him.

Unlike Julian's intense and carefully planned charm, Daniel felt calm and honest. His eyes behind his glasses were sharp and observant. In just a few seconds, he had noticed my messy hair, pale face, and shaking hands.

"Are you alright, Ms. Morgan?" Daniel asked softly, his voice warm and sincere. "You look like you're running from a ghost."

I stared into his calm eyes.

For the first time in three days, I felt like I was standing on solid ground.

"You have no idea," I whispered.

Clara's POV

The glass walls of the conference room felt like a safe place compared to everything going on in my head.

Dozens of transaction records, financial reports, and audit files were spread across the table. Sitting across from me was Dr. Daniel Mercer.

For three straight hours, we worked mostly in silence. The only sounds were our keyboards and the occasional quiet comment whenever one of us found something strange.

Working with Daniel felt like getting fresh air after being trapped in a smoky room. He didn't use fancy words, pressure me, or try to impress me. He was focused and calm, going through the complicated financial records with ease.

Around 1:45 AM, I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my temples. A dull headache had started behind my eyes.

"Take a breath, Ms. Bennett," Daniel said softly.

I opened my eyes and found him looking at me through his silver-framed glasses. He had pushed his laptop aside and was watching me calmly.

"I'm fine, Dr. Mercer." I forced a small smile. "Just tired."

"Call me Daniel," he said gently as he reached across the table and handed me a bottle of water. "And you aren't just tired, Clara. You've been running on adrenaline since you walked through those elevator doors. Your shoulders are tense, and you haven't taken a proper breath in hours."

I blinked.

"Is it that obvious?"

"To someone trained to notice things? Yes." A small smile appeared on his face. "Look, the audit breach is under control for tonight. We're done. It's almost two in the morning, and you shouldn't be taking a cab home in this condition. Let me drive you."

I hesitated.

Julian's face immediately came to mind.

But when I looked at Daniel, standing there so calm and steady, I felt something I hadn't realized I needed.

Safety.

"Okay," I whispered. "Thank you, Daniel."

The ride back to my house in his clean, quiet car was peaceful. He didn't ask personal questions or push me to talk. He simply played soft classical music and let the silence calm me down.

When we reached my building, he got out and opened the door for me. He even waited until I was safely inside the lobby.

"Get some sleep, Clara," he said warmly before returning to his car.

I unlocked my apartment and stepped into the dark foyer.

The silence of the living room surrounded me.

On the small table near the entrance, beside the vase of lilies Julian had brought earlier, was a folded piece of cream-colored paper.

Julian was gone.

I picked up the note.

His neat handwriting covered the page.

'Emergency client call came through, my love. Didn't want to disturb your work. Sleep well'. — J.

I let out a tired sigh and sank into a chair.

At last, exhaustion won over my fear.

I dragged myself to bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

___

The next morning at Sterling & Croft, I sat at my desk trying to catch up on my regular work.

But my mind kept going back to the financial records from the night before and the quiet sense of safety I'd felt in Daniel's car.

At 11:00 AM, the normal office noise was suddenly interrupted by gasps and excited whispers.

A courier in a sharp black uniform walked into our department carrying a huge bouquet of two dozen red roses.

In his other hand was a black velvet box tied with a gold ribbon.

"Clara Bennett?" the courier called.

My face heated as everyone around me turned to look.

I slowly stood.

"Yes, that's me."

"Sign here, please."

I signed the digital screen, and almost immediately, three of my female colleagues rushed toward my desk.

"Oh my God, Clara!" Sarah said excitedly, staring at the flowers. "Who sent these?"

I untied the gold ribbon and opened the velvet box.

Inside, resting on a silk lining, was a heavy brass key attached to a leather keychain.

An address was stamped onto it.

It belonged to one of the most expensive apartment buildings in the city.

Under the key was a handwritten card.

'No more draft loan forms or misunderstandings, Clara. I bought us a penthouse downtown. This is for our fresh start. Move in with me tonight. Let's build our future together'. — Julian

"A key?!" Sarah gasped, placing a hand over her chest. "Is that a penthouse key?! Girl, you hit the jackpot!"

Before I could even process what was happening, Nora rushed into my cubicle.

She pushed past the other women and stared at the brass key.

"Holy crap, Clara!" she said, grabbing my shoulders. "He bought a penthouse for you two?! Are you serious?!"

"Nora, wait. It's too fast—"

"Too fast?" she interrupted, pulling me away from the others and lowering her voice. "Clara, the man is spending his money to prove he's serious! He's giving you a penthouse! Do you know how much a place like that costs? He wants you to build your whole life with him!"

"I still have my own apartment, Nora. My savings, my accounts—"

"Which you should start putting together if you're moving in with him," Nora said quickly. "Where are you keeping your money right now anyway? Still in that treasury fund? You should let Julian manage it once you move in. It's time for a fresh start, Clara. You need to let go of the past."

Between Nora pushing me, Julian's constant romantic gestures, and my own desperate wish to stop being afraid and trust the man I once loved, my guard finally came down.

"Okay," I whispered, holding the brass key tightly.

"Okay. I'll go tonight."

_____

At 7:00 PM, I stood inside the beautiful living room of the downtown penthouse.

Large glass windows showed the bright city lights outside.

Julian was waiting for me.

He wore a crisp white shirt with the top buttons undone, looking handsome in the warm light of the room.

The moment I walked through the door, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close.

Then he kissed me.

"You came," he whispered, smiling. "You're finally here, Clara."

We went inside and he poured two glasses of expensive red wine and handed one to me.

We stood near the window and raised our glasses.

"To us," Julian said softly, looking into my eyes. "To our new beginning."

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Julian's phone vibrated on the kitchen island behind us.

He didn't seem interested in answering, but when he looked at the screen, his expression changed.

He placed his glass down.

"Excuse me for a moment, darling. I have to take this work call."

"Go ahead," I said with a small smile.

JULIAN'S POV

I walked quickly toward the hallway near the master bedroom, making sure Clara couldn't hear me.

I pulled out my phone and looked at the caller ID.

Victoria.

My jaw tightened.

I answered.

"What do you want, Victoria? I told you I was dealing with an important client tonight."

"Client negotiations?" Victoria's voice came through the phone, sharp and suspicious. "Is that what you call it, Julian? I'm at our house looking at the joint credit card statements! Why did a private courier charge five hundred dollars for flowers this morning?"

"It was a corporate gift for an investor's wife, Victoria. Don't be ridiculous," I snapped. "I don't have time for your paranoia."

"Are you cheating on me again, Julian?" she hissed.

Her voice shook with anger.

"Because if you are, I swear I'll call the debt collectors myself and tell them exactly where you keep your offshore accounts! You remember who signed your business loans!"

Anger rushed through me, but I controlled it.

Victoria could be dangerous when she felt trapped, but she was easy to control if I acted like the tired, overworked husband.

"Victoria, listen to me."

I lowered my voice.

"I'm drowning in work trying to keep this estate running. I'm working day and night to clear those debts so you can keep your lifestyle. Stop making things harder for me. I'll be home late. Don't wait up."

Before she could respond, I ended the call.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead.

Then I fixed my shirt, took a deep breath, and pushed the anger away.

I replaced it with the warm, loving expression Clara expected from me.

I walked back into the living room.

Clara was standing beside the sofa.

She looked innocent and trusting.

And, more importantly, she had enough savings to solve the financial mess I was in.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

"Everything is perfect now that I'm back with you," I lied.

I walked toward her, took her wine glass, and placed it on the table.

Then I gently held her face.

"You are so beautiful, Clara. Tonight, we start fresh. No past. No regrets. Just us."

I leaned down and kissed her.

The kiss deepened, and she relaxed in my arms.

I led her toward the master bedroom.

And that night, beneath the silk sheets of the penthouse, we ended up having sex.

CLARA'S POV

The next morning..

Morning sunlight came through the thin curtains, filling the room with soft light.

I stretched and reached across the bed.

The space beside me was empty and cold.

Julian was gone.

I sat up and pulled the sheet over my bare chest.

Memories of last night came rushing back—his touch, his words, and the promises he'd made.

A small smile appeared on my lips.

Maybe things really were changing.

I wrapped myself in a robe and went downstairs to the kitchen.

A beautiful breakfast had been prepared on the kitchen island. Fresh pastries, orange juice, and hot coffee were waiting for me.

Beside them was another note from Julian saying he'd had an early board meeting but would see me that evening.

I ate quickly before heading to work.

For the first time in a long while, I felt hopeful.

Maybe I'd been too suspicious.

Maybe we really were starting over.

When I arrived at Sterling & Croft, the morning passed slowly.

But something caught my attention.

Nora's cubicle was empty.

By noon, she still hadn't arrived.

Worried, I pulled out my phone and sent her a message.

Clara: Hey, Nora! You're not at your desk. Is everything okay? I'm getting worried!

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed.

Nora: Hey babe, sorry! Woke up with a terrible fever and chest pains. I'm actually at St. Jude's Hospital getting checked out. Don't worry!

My heart dropped.

Nora was my best friend.

I immediately went into my manager's office, asked for an emergency half-day leave, and grabbed my coat.

Twenty minutes later, I walked through the glass doors of St. Jude's Hospital.

I found Nora sitting up in a private room with an IV in her arm.

"Clara! You came!" she said, putting her phone down.

"Of course I came!"

I pulled a chair beside her bed and took her hand.

"Are you okay? What did the doctor say?"

"Just severe exhaustion and a mild infection," Nora said, waving her hand. "Nothing serious."

Then she smiled.

"But enough about me! Tell me about last night! Did you go to the penthouse?!"

I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face.

"I did. And Nora... it was incredible. Julian was so sweet. We talked about everything, and we... well, we spent the night together. I think I'm finally letting go of my doubts."

Nora's eyes lit up.

"I knew it! I told you he was the one! So, did you guys talk about combining your money yet? Did you give him access to your main accounts?"

I blinked.

Again, she was talking about my money.

"No, not yet. We were focused on us."

"Well, don't wait too long," Nora said quickly.

"I'll get us some fresh water from the hallway dispenser," I said, wanting to end the awkward conversation.

I stepped into the hallway and filled two plastic cups at the water station.

As I turned around, a tall man in a dark suit with white coat walked past the nurses' station.

"Clara?"

I stopped.

Standing in front of me was Dr. Daniel Mercer.

He looked neat and professional, with a tablet tucked under his arm.

"Daniel?" I said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm on the advisory board for the hospital's risk management committee," Daniel explained with a warm smile. "What about you? Is everything alright?"

"My best friend was admitted because of exhaustion, so I came to see her."

"I hope she gets better soon," Daniel said.

He paused and studied me through his glasses.

"You look much better than you did last night, Clara. Much more relaxed."

"I... yeah."

I felt my face warm.

"Things are settling down."

Daniel nodded.

"I'm glad."

He hesitated for a moment.

"I was actually wondering... if you're free this weekend, maybe I could take you out for a quiet dinner? No financial audits, no work talk. Just dinner?"

My heart skipped.

Standing there with Daniel, I felt that same sense of safety and respect I'd felt the night before.

But then Julian's face came to mind.

Our night together.

The penthouse.

His promises.

I swallowed.

"Daniel, you're wonderful, really... but I'm actually seeing someone. It's getting serious."

Something unreadable crossed his face for a second, but he quickly returned to his calm smile.

"I understand. He's a very lucky man, Clara. If you ever need anything, my door is always open."

__

That evening, I returned to the penthouse feeling peaceful.

Julian wasn't home yet, but his leather messenger bag was sitting on the study desk.

I decided to unpack a few of my things and make some space for myself.

I opened the bottom drawer of Julian's desk to organize some of his stationery.

Under a stack of blank folders was a thick official document sealed with gold tape.

My curiosity took over.

I pulled it out and opened it.

It wasn't a business contract.

It wasn't an investment document.

Printed in bold black letters across the top was:

CERTIFICATE OF MARRIAGE

My eyes moved down the page.

My blood turned cold.

GROOM: JULIAN VANCE

BRIDE: VICTORIA VANCE

DATE OF MARRIAGE: OCTOBER 14, 2020

STATUS: ACTIVE / MARRIED

The paper slipped from my numb fingers and fell to the floor.

Julian was married.

He had been married for six years.

And I had just given him my body, my heart, and my trust.

Clara's

I sat on the cold hardwood floor of the penthouse, my back against the desk. My whole body was shaking so badly that the paper in my hand shaked between my fingers. Tears blurred my vision as they fell onto the legal document resting on my knees.

A marriage certificate.

Active. Valid.

Julian Vance. Victoria Vance. Married.

Every soft touch from last night, every quiet whisper of "our fresh start," every promise about our future—it was all a lie. I wasn't his great romantic reunion. I was a secret. I was the other woman.

The front door chimed softly from the foyer.

"Clara? Sweetheart, I'm home!" Julian's cheerful voice echoed through the penthouse. "I grabbed that Italian takeout from the place you used to love in college! It smells incredible!"

His footsteps moved across the polished floor toward the study. When he turned the corner, carrying two paper bags with a bright smile on his face, he suddenly stopped.

He saw me sitting on the floor. He saw the tears running down my face. Then his eyes fell on the marriage certificate in my hands.

His smile disappeared.

But he didn't panic or run. Instead, he carefully placed the takeout bags on the desk. In seconds, his happy expression changed into one of deep regret.

I quickly got to my feet, my chest rising and falling as I threw the paper at him.

"Explain this!" I screamed, my voice breaking from the humiliation. "Explain why there is an active marriage certificate in your desk with your name on it, Julian!"

The paper fell to the floor between us.

Julian looked down at it, and then, without hesitation, dropped to his knees.

Tears filled his eyes as he looked up at me. He reached toward me, trying to grab the edge of my dress, his face full of pain.

"Clara... please, listen to me," he cried, his voice shaking. "It's not what you think. God, please don't look at me like that!"

"You are married!" I shouted, taking two steps away from him. "You lied to me! You brought me here, you bought this penthouse, you fucked me, you touched me last night—and you have a wife!"

"It's a dead marriage, Clara!" Julian said, looking up at me with pleading eyes. "Victoria and I haven't lived like husband and wife in over three years! It was a business arrangement—a loveless marriage my family forced me into when my company was struggling! We have no intimacy and no love!"

"Why didn't you tell me?!" I screamed, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. My heart felt like it was breaking into pieces. "Why would you hide this from me?! I slept with you, Julian! You turned me into a mistress! You made me a homewrecker!"

"Because I was terrified of losing you!" Julian begged. His voice cracked as he lifted his hands toward me. "The moment I saw you at the reunion, I knew my life meant nothing without you! My lawyers are already working on the divorce papers, Clara! The marriage is over! I was going to tell you as soon as the divorce was final! I didn't want the past to ruin our fresh start!"

He lowered his head until his forehead touched the floor near my feet. His shoulders shook as he cried.

"I'm so sorry... I'm so, so sorry, Clara. I only ever loved you. I swear on my life, you are the only woman I want."

I stood over him in silence, my breathing short and uneven. His words were pulling at the memories I had of him. They made me want to forgive him. They made me want to believe that he was just a desperate man trying to hold on to his first love.

The divorce papers were being prepared.

It was only a business marriage.

It sounded so tragic. So romantic.

But then I remembered the truth.

He had let me into his bed without telling me he was married.

"I'm leaving," I said quietly.

Julian quickly looked up, his eyes red from crying.

"What? Clara, no! Stay here, please—"

"I need space, Julian!" I shouted as I grabbed my coat and purse from the armchair. "Do not follow me. Do not come to my place. I need to be alone!"

I didn't wait for his answer.

I rushed out of the penthouse, took the elevator down, and stepped into the cool night air. I stopped the first yellow cab I saw and climbed inside.

Twenty minutes later, I arrived at my old apartment.

It was dark and quiet. The faint smell of the dried roses Julian had sent days ago still filled the room.

I didn't turn on the lights.

I simply sat on the edge of my bed and wrapped my arms around myself.

My mind was a mess.

Was Julian really a good person who had made a terrible mistake when he was younger? Was he just a desperate man trapped in a loveless marriage, trying to hold on to the only real love he had ever known?

Or were all those tears on the hardwood floor just another act?

I just gave up the thoughts as sleep took over.

___

The next morning, the sunlight coming through my bedroom window felt like a slap.

I had barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the black letters on that marriage certificate.

Married.

The word kept repeating in my head.

I dragged myself out of bed and got ready for work, feeling numb. Just as I picked up my keys from the counter, the doorbell rang.

When I opened the door, I found a delivery courier holding a beautiful breakfast basket filled with fresh pastries, jam, and a thermos of my favorite coffee.

A thick white envelope with my name on it was tucked inside the basket.

I knew the handwriting immediately.

Julian.

I pulled out the letter and read it.

"Clara, my heart is completely shattered after last night. I haven't slept a second. I know you're angry, and I know I should have told you sooner, but please believe me—my marriage to Victoria is nothing more than ink on paper. I am fixing this. I love you, and I will do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. Please let me take care of you today. Yours always, J."

I stared at the letter for a long moment.

There were no tears. No dramatic apologies. Just carefully chosen words meant to calm me down.

I didn't drink the coffee.

I didn't eat the pastries.

I tossed the letter onto the entry table beside the wilted lilies, locked my door, and went to work.

By noon, I was completely exhausted. My eyes were heavy, and I couldn't focus on a single balance sheet.

During lunch, the glass door to my office opened.

Nora walked in carrying two iced lattes. She looked completely recovered from her "hospital visit" the day before.

"Hey, stranger," Nora said softly, placing one of the lattes on my desk before sitting down. She studied my pale face and the dark circles under my eyes. "Okay, spill. You look like you've seen a ghost. What happened? I thought you and Julian were living it up in the penthouse!"

My throat tightened.

I leaned back in my chair and looked at my best friend, feeling desperate.

"Nora... he's married," I whispered.

Nora froze, her coffee halfway to her mouth.

"What?"

"He's married," I repeated, tears burning my eyes. "I found a marriage certificate in his study drawer last night. He's been married to a woman named Victoria for six years. Six years, Nora! He brought me to that penthouse, lied to my face, and made me his side chick!"

Nora gasped loudly and grabbed her chest.

"Oh my God! Clara! No way!" She leaned closer, covering her mouth with both hands. "Julian? Married?! Are you completely sure?!"

"I held the official state record in my hands!" I said, my chest rising and falling quickly. "He admitted it when I confronted him! He dropped to his knees crying, talking about how it's a dead business marriage and he's getting a divorce, but I don't care! He hid it from me! He touched me, Nora! I slept with a married man!"

Nora reached across the desk and rubbed my arm, giving me a sympathetic look.

"Oh, sweetie... I am so, so sorry. That is awful. You must feel so betrayed."

"I feel sick," I whispered, covering my face with my hands.

Nora stayed quiet for a moment and took a sip of her coffee. Then her voice changed slightly.

"But... Clara, think about it rationally for a second," she said softly, looking directly at me. "A lot of wealthy men enter business marriages because of their families, especially in real estate and finance. If he's already getting a divorce for you, doesn't that prove how much he loves you?"

I lowered my hands and stared at her.

"What?"

"I'm just saying!" Nora quickly continued, leaning closer. "He bought you a penthouse! He's willing to leave his current life just to be with his high school sweetheart! Mistakes happen, Clara. He was probably afraid you'd walk away if he told you too soon. Don't throw away a billionaire who adores you over a piece of paper. Give him another chance!"

A cold feeling ran through me.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"A piece of paper?!" I shouted, standing so quickly that my chair rolled backward into the glass wall. "Nora, he lied to me! He manipulated me into his bed! He's a married man, and you're telling me to give him another chance?!"

"Clara, calm down. People are looking—"

"I don't care who's looking!" I snapped, grabbing my purse. "You are supposed to be my best friend! You're supposed to have my back, not defend a man who treated me like a secret mistress!"

"I am thinking about your future!" Nora insisted as she stood.

"No, you're not," I said bitterly. "I need air."

I stormed out of my office, leaving Nora behind with a tight, unreadable expression.

____

The rest of the workday passed in a blur of anger and loneliness. I ignored Nora for the rest of the afternoon and kept myself busy until the clock finally reached 5:00 PM.

I just wanted to go home, lock my door, and disappear.

I grabbed my trench coat, took the elevator down, and walked through the grand revolving doors of Sterling & Croft.

The cool evening air hit my face, but I stopped when I looked toward the street.

Parked by the curb was Julian's sleek black Maybach.

He was leaning against the driver's side door, holding a single white orchid. He wasn't wearing his usual suit jacket. Instead, he had on a dark sweater with the sleeves pushed up. He looked tired, pale, and worried.

The moment he saw me among the employees leaving the building, his face brightened.

He pushed away from the car and walked toward me.

My heart immediately hardened.

I turned away and walked faster down the sidewalk.

"Clara! Please!"

Julian's longer strides quickly caught up with me. He stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

People walking past us glanced over, but he didn't seem to care.

"Julian, move," I said coldly, refusing to look at him.

"I can't just let you walk away from me like this," he pleaded. His eyes were full of desperation. He reached toward my elbow, but I pulled my arm away as if his touch burned me.

"Don't touch me."

"Clara, please. Just five minutes," Julian begged, holding up the white orchid. "I miss you so much. I haven't been able to function all day thinking about how much pain I caused you last night. I'm so sorry. I know I messed up, but please... come back to the penthouse with me. Let's talk about this properly."

"There is nothing to talk about, Julian!" I shouted, stepping around him. "You are a married man! Do you understand that word? Married! You lied to me!"

"It's a dead marriage!" he called after me, staying beside me as I walked quickly toward the subway entrance. "I don't love her, Clara! I haven't touched Victoria in years! I'm already finalizing the divorce! I'll give her whatever money she wants just to be free! I only want you!"

"Then you should have finalized it BEFORE you came looking for me!" I snapped.

I stopped walking and finally looked him directly in the eyes.

"You took away my choice! You made me something I swore I would never become! Leave me alone, Julian! I mean it!"

"Clara, stop being so stubborn!" Julian said, his voice changing slightly. A small edge of anger slipped through his desperate act.

He grabbed my wrist.

"We belong together! You know you felt it last night! You can't just throw away what we have because of pride!"

"Let go of her hand."

The calm, steady voice cut through the noise of the street.

Julian froze.

I turned my head quickly.

Standing right behind us was Dr. Daniel Mercer.

He had his dark coat over one arm, a leather briefcase in his other hand, and his glasses reflected the city lights. He wasn't shouting or trying to act tough, but there was something strong about the way he stood.

Daniel walked toward us, his eyes fixed on Julian's hand around my wrist.

"The lady told you to leave her alone," Daniel said quietly as he stepped into Julian's space. "Take your hand off her. Now."