Chapter 8 8

The terrace was freezing, the wind whipping off Central Park.

Once the heavy glass doors clicked shut, blocking the noise of the party, Julian spun around. He immediately stripped off his tuxedo jacket and draped it over her shoulders. It was heavy, warm, and smelled of cedar and him.

"I'm fine," Elara said, her teeth chattering.

"Shut up," he said, buttoning the jacket around her neck. His fingers brushed her throat. His touch was gentle, at odds with his angry tone. "Why do you let them talk to you like that?"

"I don't have the power to stop them, Julian. You do."

"I just fired a man for you."

"You made a scene. Now they'll hate me more."

Julian leaned against the stone balustrade, looking out at the city lights. "I don't care what they think."

"You care what the shareholders think."

He turned to her. "What is going on, Elara? The library. The apartment. And now you're tech support? You have a degree from MIT. Why are you playing the martyr?"

"I'm not playing," she said softly. "I'm surviving."

"Is it Adrian?" he asked, the name coming out like a curse. "Is he the one taking care of you?"

"Adrian is a friend."

"He pays for the boy's school. I saw the records."

Elara's heart slammed against her ribs. "He... helps out. Leo is his nephew."

"His nephew," Julian repeated. He stepped closer. "Why does that boy look at me like he knows me?"

"I don't know," she whispered. She backed up, hitting the stone wall.

Julian placed his hands on the wall on either side of her, trapping her. "You're lying to me. I can see it in your eyes. You used to be a terrible liar."

"People change."

"Not that much." He leaned in. His lips were inches from hers. She could feel his breath. For a second, she thought he was going to kiss her. She wanted him to. God help her, she wanted him to.

The terrace door banged open.

"Julian!" Serena's voice was shrill. "There you are."

Julian didn't move away immediately. He held Elara's gaze for one more agonizing second before pushing himself off the wall.

"What is it, Serena?"

"The police are here," Serena said, a malicious glint in her eye. "They want to talk to your wife."

"What?"

"About corporate espionage," Serena smiled. "It seems someone stole the source code for Nebula's new algorithm. And it was traced to Elara's laptop."

Elara went pale. "That's ridiculous. I designed the encryption protocols myself. If there was a breach, it would have triggered a kernel panic in the mainframe, not a simple trace."

Serena blinked, caught off guard by the technical jargon. "Well, the transfer logs show your IP address."

"IP addresses can be spoofed, Serena. Especially if someone has physical access to the server room. Someone like a board member."

"Are you accusing me?" Serena gasped.

Julian looked from Serena to Elara. He saw Elara's defiance, her intelligence flaring up like a beacon.

"Elara," he said slowly. "Can you prove it wasn't you?"

"If you give me access to the terminal, I can show you the routing path in five minutes."

"We can't do that," Serena interjected quickly. "She's a suspect. Giving her access would compromise the investigation."

Julian stayed silent. He looked at Elara, conflict warring in his eyes. He knew she was brilliant. But he also knew she was desperate. And desperation made people do foolish things.

"Let the police handle it," Julian finally said.

That silence broke her heart more than the accusation.