Chapter 4

Eleonora's foot had barely touched the first step of the staircase when Julian's hand clamped down on her wrist.

His grip was brutal. The bones in her wrist ground together, sending a sharp spike of pain up her arm. She gasped, her face twisting in agony.

Before she could pull away, Julian yanked her backward. He dragged her down the hallway, his strides long and furious. He shoved her through the doorway of his study and slammed the heavy oak door shut behind them.

The loud bang rattled the picture frames on the walls.

Eleonora stumbled from the force of his shove and fell back onto the leather Chesterfield sofa. She scrambled to her feet instantly, rubbing her throbbing wrist. She glared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her eyes blazing like a cornered lioness.

Julian paced furiously behind his massive mahogany desk. He reached for his humidor, grabbed a cigar, and then violently threw it back down.

He braced his hands on the edge of the desk, taking a deep breath to force his anger down. He needed to regain control.

"I shouldn't have lied," Julian said, his voice tight but controlled. "But I hid it because I knew you would react exactly like this. I was trying to avoid your irrational jealousy."

Eleonora let out a harsh, incredulous laugh.

She reached into the pocket of her cardigan and pulled out her phone. She pulled up the screenshot Sloane had sent her-the internal Sotheby's bidding log.

She marched up to the desk and slammed the phone down on the polished wood.

"Irrational?" she demanded. "Look at it. The winning bidder is Julian Sinclair. Jax Mercer's name isn't anywhere on that list. How long were you going to keep treating me like an idiot?"

Julian stared down at the glowing screen. His pupils contracted. The physical proof of his lie was staring him in the face.

His jaw locked. The color drained from his face as he realized he had lost the upper hand.

He leaned forward, his dark eyes locking onto hers. He played his final, most manipulative card.

"Her mother saved my life, Nora," Julian said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "My legs were pinned in that wreckage. She threw herself over me. She will never walk again because of me. That guilt is a chain around my neck."

He stepped around the desk, closing the distance between them.

"Seraphina is broken," he continued, his tone heavy with moral superiority. "Her husband beat her. She is suicidal. That necklace was a toy. A distraction to keep her from slitting her wrists. It means nothing."

Eleonora listened to his words. The emotional manipulation was so thick she could barely breathe.

"Does your guilt require our marriage to pay the price?" she asked, her voice trembling with cold fury.

Julian grabbed her by the shoulders. His fingers dug into her flesh.

"I will never betray our marriage," Julian swore, his eyes wild with a desperate, manic sincerity. "She is my sister. Nothing more. But you are my wife. You have to be the bigger person. You have to accept her."

Eleonora stared into his eyes. She saw the absolute conviction in his face. He truly believed his own twisted logic. He believed his responsibility to Seraphina superseded his vows to his wife.

Arguing with him was useless.

Eleonora lowered her eyelashes, hiding the cold, calculating realization in her eyes. She forced her rigid shoulders to slump. She let out a long, defeated breath.

"I understand," she whispered softly. "I won't ask about the necklace again."

Julian froze. The sudden submission threw him off balance.

Then, a wave of immense relief washed over his face. The tension drained from his body. He pulled her into a tight, crushing hug.

He buried his face in her hair, pressing a kiss to her crown. "Thank you. You're so good to me," he murmured.

Eleonora stood stiffly in his embrace. Her hands remained curled into tight fists at her sides. She stared blankly at the grey sky outside the window. Her mind was already working, calculating her escape.

Suddenly, the sharp, piercing ring of Julian's private cell phone shattered the quiet room.

Julian pulled back. He pulled the phone from his pocket. He glanced at the screen, and his face immediately tightened.

He quickly pressed the mute button. He looked at Eleonora with an apologetic smile.

"It's an emergency board meeting call from the London office," he lied smoothly.

Eleonora's hands hovered in the air. She saw the microscopic twitch in his jaw. She knew it was a lie.

She slowly lowered her hands behind her back.

"Go ahead," she said, her voice turning to ice.

Julian let out a breath. He quickly turned and walked out onto the study's private balcony, sliding the heavy glass door shut behind him.

Eleonora walked silently toward the glass door. In his frantic rush, Julian hadn't pulled the heavy door completely shut, leaving a half-inch sliver of open air. "...Seraphina... don't cry... I'm coming right now," Julian's low, desperate voice drifted clearly through the narrow crack.

The last fragile thread holding Eleonora's heart together snapped.

She let out a silent, bitter laugh. She hated herself for almost believing him five minutes ago.

Julian hung up the phone. He slid the door open and stepped back inside.

He looked at her, his face a mask of fake regret. "Nora, I'm sorry. The London team needs me to sign off on a merger immediately. I have to go to the office."

Eleonora felt completely hollowed out. She didn't have the energy to scream anymore.

She nodded slowly. "Don't forget your coat," she said, her voice dead.

Julian paused. He looked at her strangely for a second, sensing the unnatural calm. But the urgency of Seraphina's tears pushed his doubts aside.

He grabbed his suit jacket off the chair and practically sprinted out of the study.

The door clicked shut.

Eleonora's knees gave out. She collapsed onto the leather sofa. She clamped her hands over her mouth, a single, agonizing sob tearing through her throat.

She pressed her trembling hand against her flat stomach. The tiny flutter of life inside her was the only thing keeping her sane.

She wiped her face. Her eyes hardened into dark, cold stones. She needed to protect her child.

She stood up and walked over to Julian's desk. His MacBook was sitting there, the screen dark and locked. A man as ruthless and calculating as Julian never left his devices unprotected. But Eleonora knew him intimately. She knew his one hidden vulnerability. She pulled open the bottom right drawer, reaching for the vintage leather-bound copy of 'The Great Gatsby' he kept there. Flipping to page forty-two, she found the faint pencil indentations of his emergency alphanumeric sequence. She typed the complex code into the prompt, and the screen instantly unlocked.

She quickly opened his email client. She clicked on the "Deleted Items" folder.

Her eyes scanned the list. She stopped on an email sent from the Sinclair Group HR department.

Subject: Executive Onboarding Confirmation - Seraphina Sinclair.

Eleonora clicked the email. Her eyes scanned the text, and her blood ran cold.

Seraphina was officially hired. Her title was Design Director.

She was going to be Eleonora's direct boss.

Eleonora slammed the laptop shut. Her whole body shook with a violent, consuming rage. The war had just moved from her home to her office.