Chapter 2: The Mask Slips**
“Elena? What’s wrong with you?” Julian’s voice turned sharp as he grabbed her elbow, his grip far too tight for a public setting. “Everyone is watching. Pull yourself together and let’s get to the altar.”
Elena looked up at him. For the past two years, she had believed Julian was her savior—the polished, charismatic venture capitalist who stepped into her life just as her family's logistics company began bleeding cash. Now, looking into his cold blue eyes, she saw only an empty predator.
“Where were you last night, Julian?” she asked, her voice shaking but clear.
Julian frowned, a flicker of irritation flashing across his sculpted jaw. “I was at the country club with the investors. You know that.”
“You were in Southside,” she whispered. “Cutting brake lines.”
The color drained from Julian’s face for a split second before hardening into an icy mask. He leaned in close, whispering directly into her ear so the guests wouldn't hear. “Listen to me, you little brat. Your father is a bankrupt loser. You sign that marriage license today, or my partners foreclose on your family's land by 5:00 PM. Play your part.”
Across the grand hall, the high-society guests began to whisper, sensing the tension. But Elena wasn't looking at the guests, nor at the pastor waiting on the dais.
May you like
She looked toward the grand double doors of the estate, where her father had just walked out into the pouring rain. Arthur had known. He had survived the sabotaged crash, walked three miles on a twisted ankle in ruined clothes, just to warn her.
---
