Chapter 7 No.7

Julian dropped the cigarette and crushed it under the toe of his loafer. He walked toward her, his eyes fixing immediately on the white gauze on her forehead.

"Who did that? Marcus?"

Frederica took a step back. "None of your business, Julian. Move your car."

Julian let out a bitter laugh. "You are still so stubborn, Freddie. If you had chosen me back then..."

Frederica cut him off. "You sold me, Julian. You traded me to Easton for shares. Do not rewrite history."

Julian flinched. "That was Father's deal. I had no choice. I was the spare."

He stepped closer, invading her space. "I have my own capital now. I can take you away from him."

Frederica felt bile rise in her throat. "I am your sister-in-law."

Julian's face twisted. "Easton does not love you! He is using you to control the Mccullough voting block!"

"At least he pays well," Frederica spat. "And he does not pretend to be a saint."

Julian snapped. He grabbed her shoulders, his fingers digging in. He leaned in, trying to kiss her.

Frederica reacted on instinct. She brought her knee up, but the dress was too tight. Instead, she stomped her heel down, driving the stiletto into his shin.

Julian yelled and let go, hopping back.

Frederica scrambled for her car door.

Suddenly, the driveway was flooded with light. High beams cut through the darkness, blinding them both.

A black stretch Lincoln rolled silently up the gravel drive. It stopped right next to the Ferrari.

The back window rolled down.

Easton sat there. His face was in shadow, but his eyes caught the light. They were cold, dead calm.

Julian straightened up, ignoring the pain in his leg. The fear on his face was instant. The spare facing the heir.

Easton didn't look at his brother. He looked at the blood on Frederica's cheek, at the gauze.

"Get in," Easton said.

Frederica hesitated. She didn't want to go with him. But looking at Julian's desperate, grabby hands...

"Unless you want Julian to be on the front page for harassment tomorrow," Easton added.

Julian turned pale. He stepped back, head bowed.

Frederica made the calculation. She walked to the Lincoln. The driver opened the door, and she slid into the warmth of the backseat.

As the door closed, Easton spoke to the window, his voice projecting clearly to his brother.

"Stay away from my assets, Julian."

The car pulled away.

Frederica slumped in the corner, exhausted. Her head was pounding a rhythm of pain.

Easton didn't speak. He opened the small refrigerator console. He took out an ice pack. He wrapped it in a silk handkerchief.

He held it out to her.

"Put this on."

Frederica took it. The cold was shocking against her hot skin, but the relief was instant. She closed her eyes, trapped in the dark with the husband she was leaving, who had just saved her from the man she used to love.