Chapter 4

Chandler POV:

The world spun around me as I struggled to find my footing. Mark Davidson's hand, a blur of rage, was coming straight for my face. But before it connected, a blur of motion from behind him. A heavy thump echoed through the room. Davidson choked, his eyes wide with shock, and collapsed to the floor.

Julian.

He stood over Davidson, his chest heaving, his fist still clenched. His eyes, usually so controlled, were wild, blazing with an unfamiliar fury. He didn't even glance at me. His gaze was fixed on Davidson's unconscious form, then swung to the other two men, who stood frozen, clearly intimidated by Julian's unexpected savagery.

"Get out," Julian snarled, his voice low and dangerous, a sound I had never heard him make. "Now."

The men, sensing the raw, untamed violence radiating from him, didn't hesitate. They scrambled out of the apartment, leaving Davidson in a heap on the floor.

Julian didn't move for a moment, his body rigid, his breathing ragged. Then, he slowly turned, his eyes finally landing on me, then on Gale, who was slowly picking herself up off the floor. His gaze softened, a flicker of concern replacing the anger.

"Are you alright, Gale?" he asked, his voice still rough, but regaining some of its usual control.

"I'm fine, Julian," she said, rubbing her arm. "Thanks to you."

He nodded, then looked at me, his eyes searching my face. "Chandler?"

I felt a confusing mix of emotions: relief that he had come, anger at his past actions, and a strange fear of this new, ferocious Julian. I was still shaking, a cold sweat dampening my skin.

Just then, Hayden, looking impossibly ethereal in a silk nightgown, emerged from the elevator. Her eyes scanned the chaotic scene, then landed on Julian, her expression shifting to one of wide-eyed innocence.

"Julian? What happened? I heard a commotion." Her voice was soft, fragile. She clutched a delicate shawl around her shoulders.

Julian immediately moved towards her, his harsh features softening. "It's nothing, Hayden. Just some trouble. It's over now."

She looked at Davidson's unconscious body, then at me, a subtle, almost imperceptible smirk playing on her lips. "Was it... related to the information I found about the Evans Corporation's takeover bid? The one I accidentally stumbled upon while looking for your research papers, Julian? I was just trying to help, but I guess I made things worse." She gave him a tearful, pleading look. "I'm so sorry, Julian. I just wanted to protect you, protect your work."

Julian' s face clouded with concern and a deep sense of responsibility. He put his arm around her, pulling her close. "No, Hayden. It's not your fault. You did nothing wrong." He looked at me, a warning in his eyes.

Hayden, nestled against Julian's side, locked her gaze with mine. Her eyes, usually so innocent, held a chilling triumph. It was a silent message: He' s mine. He always will be. She squeezed Julian' s arm, then allowed him to lead her back to the safety of her apartment, leaving me standing in the wreckage of Gale' s living room, a bitter taste in my mouth. My anger, a raging inferno moments ago, was now a cold, dead ash.

I watched them go, a profound sense of despair settling over me. He would always choose her. Always.

After Mark Davidson was hauled away by the police, arrested for breaking and entering and assault, Gale helped me clean up. The adrenaline slowly drained from my body, leaving me utterly exhausted and numb.

"He saved you, Chan," Gale said quietly, trying to offer some comfort.

"He saved his sacrifice," I retorted, the bitterness returning. "He can't let anything happen to Kathryne's sister. He'd never forgive himself."

My mind flashed back to the way Hayden had spoken about the "information" she "accidentally stumbled upon." It reeked of manipulation. She was a master of playing the fragile victim, exploiting Julian's guilt.

I finished cleaning up the broken glass. A cold, hard resolve solidified in my chest. I called Charlton.

"Dad," I said, my voice thick with unshed tears, "I'm coming home. I need to handle some things."

Charlton, ever the protective older brother, was immediately concerned. "What happened, Chan? Are you okay?"

"I will be," I promised, the words tasting hollow. "But I need to be there. I need to be here for Dad. And for Evans Corp."

The next morning, I woke with a throbbing headache and a renewed sense of purpose. I had to secure my family' s future. My own future. The Evans Corporation was under siege, a hostile takeover orchestrated by rivals capitalizing on my father' s recent health issues. I had been hiding in London, licking my wounds, while my family was fighting for survival. No more.

I packed my bags, leaving the London apartment behind without a glance. My flight back to New York was filled with a grim determination. The triviality of my personal heartbreak suddenly seemed insignificant compared to the crisis facing my family.

Hours later, I walked into the sprawling Evans Corporation headquarters, the familiar hum of activity a stark contrast to my internal turmoil. Charlton met me in my father' s office, his face drawn, lines of worry etched around his eyes.

"Chandler," he said, pulling me into a tight hug. "I'm glad you're back."

"How's Dad?" I asked, my voice tight with concern. My father, a titan of industry, had been under immense stress.

Charlton hesitated, his gaze falling away. "He's... not good. The doctors say the stress is taking a toll. He had another minor stroke last night."

My heart plummeted. Another stroke. The words hit me like a physical blow. The hostile takeover, the pressure-it was killing him.

"I tried to reach you, Chan," Charlton continued, his voice heavy. "But you weren't answering your phone."

My mind flashed back to the previous night, the alcohol, the fight with Mark Davidson, Julian's unexpected appearance. I had been so consumed by my own pain, so desperate to ignore the world, that I had missed my father' s suffering. Guilt, sharp and cold, pierced through me.

"I need to see him," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

"He's at St. Jude's. I'll drive you."

But as we stepped out of the office, Charlton' s phone rang. His face paled as he listened, his grip tightening on his phone. "What? The board meeting? Now?"

He looked at me, a desperate apology in his eyes. "Chan, I have to go to this meeting. It's critical. If we lose this vote, it's over for the company."

"Go," I said, my voice flat. "I'll take a cab."

He nodded, a distracted apology on his lips, and hurried away. I stood there, feeling utterly alone, the city' s roar suddenly deafening. I hailed a cab, my mind a storm of anxiety and self-reproach.

The traffic was a nightmare. Every red light felt like a personal insult, every inch a mile. I clutched my phone, desperate to reach someone, anyone, to simply hear a comforting voice. My fingers hovered over Julian' s number, then recoiled. No. He wouldn't care. He was probably with Hayden, tending to her "academic emergency."

Just then, my phone rang. It was Gale.

"Chandler! Thank God! I've been trying to reach you! Your dad... Charlton just called me. He said it' s bad, Chan. Really bad." Her voice was laced with panic. "He said you were on your way to the hospital, but he couldn't get ahold of you."

"I'm in a cab, Gale," I said, my voice trembling. "Traffic is insane. I feel like I'm never going to get there."

"Julian called me earlier," Gale said, her voice dropping. "He needed a ride to the hospital too. For Hayden. She had another 'academic emergency' apparently. He asked for my car, but I told him I needed it for an emergency with you. He looked furious, but he took a cab."

My stomach clenched. He had needed a ride. And he had gone to Hayden. Of course.

"He just called me again," Gale continued, her voice strained. "He said he saw you on the street, trying to hail a cab. He said... he said he tried to offer you a ride, but you just walked past him, ignoring him. He sounded so angry, Chandler."

My mind reeled. I hadn't seen him. I had been so lost in my own panic, so desperate to get to my father, my vision blurred with unshed tears. He had offered me a ride? And I had dismissed him without a second glance? The irony was a bitter pill. Now, he was the one feeling dismissed.

"I didn't see him, Gale," I whispered, tears finally starting to fall. "I was so worried about Dad, I wasn't looking at anything."

"Chan, I'm so sorry," Gale began, but before she could finish, a harsh beep cut her off. A call from Charlton.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic, terrified drumbeat. I braced myself.

"Chandler," Charlton's voice was hoarse, broken. "I'm so sorry. Dad... he's gone. He just... slipped away. He was asking for you."

The world stopped. The taxi, the traffic, the blaring horns – it all faded into a meaningless hum. My father. Gone. And I wasn't there. I missed his final moments.

The phone slipped from my numb fingers, clattering to the floor. Tears streamed down my face, hot and stinging. My father. My strong, unwavering father. Gone.

And I missed it. Because of traffic. Because of Julian. Because of Hayden.

A cold, heavy certainty settled over me. This was the moment. The turning point. The betrayal wasn't just Julian's anymore. It was mine. My forced night of passion, my desperate pursuit, my inability to let go. And his choice. His repeated choices. This was all intertwined, a tangled mess of what-ifs and regrets.

My heart was a hollow cavern, filled with echoing grief and a simmering rage. I would never forgive him. Never forgive myself.