Chapter 4 - The Three-Month Shadow
My blood ran cold, a mixture of shock and disbelief washing over me. "Watching me?"
"You coordinate events for my holdings," Julian explained softly. "Three months ago, you handled the charity gala at the Metropolitan Museum. My uncle tried to bribe you with ten thousand dollars to give him the private guest list so he could crash my meeting with the French ambassador."
Memory flooded back. A greasy, wealthy old man in a velvet suit had offered me an envelope of cash in a quiet hallway. I had told him to shove it into his pocket and walked away.
"You turned down ten grand when you were living on instant ramen and struggling to pay your rent," Julian said, his voice laced with profound respect. "You didn't do it because anyone was watching. You did it because you have integrity. Real, unbreakable integrity."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, navy-blue velvet box. He flipped it open with his thumb.
Sitting inside was a breathtaking ten-carat oval-cut diamond ring, flanked by rare blue sapphires, set in delicate platinum. It glittered under the soft cabin lights like a star captured in velvet.
"A two-year arrangement," Julian proposed in a businesslike yet deadly serious tone. "A legal marriage. You move into my estate on the Upper East Side. You accompany me to high-society functions. You wear my name and my protection."
I swallowed hard, staring at the diamond. "And in exchange?"
"In exchange, I settle every debt you have," Julian listed smoothly. "I buy you your own independent event coordination firm—fully funded, with a ten-year commercial lease in SoHo. I pay you a monthly stipend of fifty thousand dollars. And when the two years are up, we quiet down, file for an amicable divorce, and you walk away with a twenty-million-dollar settlement and your absolute freedom."
The numbers sounded absurd. They sounded like a fairy tale spun by a madman.
"And if Damian comes near me again?" I asked quietly, my voice barely a whisper.
Julian’s dark eyes flared with an intense, terrifying light. "If Damian Cross breathes in your direction, I will erase him from the financial sector entirely. He will never hold a corporate job in North America again."
I sat in the plush leather seat, feeling the heavy wool of Julian's jacket wrapped around my wet shoulders. I thought about the four years I had sacrificed for a man who dumped me by text. I thought about the overdue rent notices on my desk. I thought about the champagne dripping down my legs while forty wealthy people laughed.
I looked at Julian Mercer—the most dangerous man in New York—offering me an armor made of gold and iron.
"What are the rules?" I asked softly.
May you like
Julian smiled—a genuine, breathtaking smile that transformed his intimidating face into something dangerously handsome.
"Rule number one," Julian said, taking the ring from the velvet box and gently sliding it onto my ring finger. It fit perfectly. "You never doubt your worth again. Rule number two... we make them all pay for touching what's mine."
