Chapter 7 7

The Metropolitan Museum of Art was a sea of flashing lights. The Sterling Gala. The event of the season.

Elara adjusted her headset. She was dressed in black slacks and a black turtleneck-the uniform of the invisible tech crew. She stood in the shadows of the Great Hall, behind a massive pillar, monitoring the holographic display Nebula had donated.

She shouldn't be here. But the lead technician had called in sick, and Serena had personally insisted that "someone from the team" ensure the display worked.

A hush fell over the crowd near the entrance.

Julian walked in.

He wore a tuxedo that fit him like a second skin. He looked like a king. And on his arm was Serena, wearing a silver gown that shimmered like liquid mercury.

"Mr. Sterling! Is it true? Are the engagement rumors true?" a reporter shouted.

Julian didn't answer. He just kept walking, his face an unreadable mask.

Then, the crowd parted for the next arrival.

Harper Kensington strode in, wearing a dress made of safety pins and red velvet. Holding her hand was Leo.

Leo wore a tiny, perfectly tailored velvet tuxedo. He looked bored. He looked aristocratic. He looked exactly like a miniature Julian.

A collective gasp went through the press line.

"Who is that child?"

"Is that a Kensington?"

Julian stopped. He turned around.

His eyes landed on Leo.

Leo stopped chewing his gum. He looked up. He locked eyes with the tall man from the video.

Time seemed to stretch. The noise of the gala faded.

Julian frowned. He took a step toward the boy. There was a pull in his chest, a magnetic resonance he couldn't explain.

"Julian?" Serena tugged on his arm. "The Senator is waiting."

Julian blinked, breaking the trance. "Who is that?"

"That's Harper's nephew," Serena said quickly, her voice tight. "Leo. Adrian's... ward."

"He looks..." Julian trailed off.

Elara, watching from the shadows, felt her knees give out. She grabbed the pillar for support. Please don't see me. Please don't put it together.

A drunk board member stumbled past Elara's pillar. He stopped, squinting at her.

"Well, well," he slurred loudly. "If it isn't the runaway bride. Working the help staff now?"

Heads turned.

Elara flushed crimson. "I'm working, Mr. Henderson."

"Get me a scotch, sweetheart," he laughed.

Serena appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. "Oh, Elara. How embarrassing. Did you need extra cash that badly? You could have just asked."

People were staring. Whispering.

"She's the one who trapped him, right?"

"Look at her. Pathetic."

Elara wanted to dissolve into the floor.

Then, a hand gripped her elbow. Firm. Possessive.

She looked up into Julian's furious face.

He didn't look at her. He looked at the board member. "Get out."

"Mr. Sterling, I was just-"

"Get out. You're fired from the board. Effective immediately."

The room went silent.

Julian didn't make a scene. He leaned down, whispering something into his head of security's ear. The guards immediately moved to flank the drunk man.

"Escort Mr. Henderson out," Julian commanded quietly.

Then, he turned to Elara. "Come with me," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Now."

He didn't drag her. He simply walked toward the terrace doors, knowing she had no choice but to follow or cause a spectacle.