Chapter 4 - The Glass Castle
The next morning, Ava’s life turned into a whirlwind of terrifying luxury.
Julian’s penthouse spanned the top three floors of a skyscraper overlooking Central Park. It was a fortress of marble, glass, and dark wood. A team of stylists arrived at 9:00 AM. By noon, Ava’s worn-out wardrobe was replaced with racks of Chanel, Dior, and Oscar de la Renta.
When Julian walked into the living room that evening, he froze.
Ava was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, wearing a slinky, emerald-green silk slip dress that hugged her curves in ways her oversized work clothes never allowed. Her hair had been professionally blown out into soft, cascading waves.
Julian’s breath hitched. The calculating billionaire vanished for a fraction of a second, replaced by a man struck violently dumb by the woman standing in his home.
“Do I look the part?” Ava asked, suddenly self-conscious under his intense stare.
Julian cleared his throat, adjusting his tie as he closed the distance between them. “You look... dangerous, Ava.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. He snapped it open. Inside sat a breathtaking, flawless ten-carat emerald-cut diamond ring.
“Give me your left hand,” he said softly.
Ava extended her trembling hand. Julian didn’t just slip the ring onto her finger. He held her hand gently, his thumb dragging across her knuckles in a slow, possessive caress that sent a jolt of pure electricity straight to her core.
“The rules of the engagement are simple,” Julian said, his voice dropping into a husky murmur, his eyes locked on her lips. “In public, we are inseparable. You smile at me. You hold my arm. You let me touch you. In private... we respect each other’s boundaries. Understood?”
“Understood,” Ava breathed, though her heart was violently rejecting the ‘boundaries’ part.
“Good. Because tonight, we are attending the Sterling North Capital charity auction. And a certain ex-boyfriend of yours will be in attendance.” Julian’s eyes flared with a predatory gleam. “Let’s go show him exactly what he threw away.”
The arrival of Julian Vance and his mystery fiancée at the charity auction was like a bomb going off in Manhattan high society.
When Ava stepped out of the Maybach, camera flashes blinded her. But Julian’s hand was a heavy, reassuring anchor on her waist. He guided her into the venue, keeping her pressed to his side.
Across the room, standing near the champagne fountain, was Damian.
He looked miserable. Victoria was standing next to him, but she was glaring at him with open disgust.
When Damian saw Ava, his jaw practically unhinged. She looked like royalty. She looked untouchable.
Julian leaned down, his lips brushing against Ava’s ear, making her shiver. “Smile at me, darling. Let him see you glow.”
Ava looked up into Julian’s eyes and smiled. It wasn’t a fake smile. The way Julian looked at her—as if she was the most precious thing in the room—made the smile genuine.
Damian couldn’t take it. Driven by sheer, narcissistic disbelief, he broke away from Victoria and marched across the room toward them.
“Ava,” Damian said, ignoring Julian entirely. “What is this? This is a joke, right? You’re paying her, aren’t you, Vance?”
Julian’s security team stepped forward, but Julian raised a single hand to stop them.
“Cross,” Julian said, his voice carrying the calm, deadly weight of a loaded gun. “I warned you last night.”
“She’s a barista!” Damian snapped, losing his temper. “She’s a nobody! She was practically begging me to marry her a year ago. You think anyone believes a man like you would actually fall for a girl who buys her shoes at clearance racks?”
Ava felt the old insecurity rear its ugly head, but before she could shrink, Julian’s arm tightened like a vice around her waist.
“I fall for a woman who has more integrity in her little finger than you have in your entire bloodline,” Julian said smoothly, loud enough for the surrounding billionaires to hear. “A woman who financed your entire useless education, only for you to prove you were a bad investment.”
Julian took a step forward, forcing Damian to stumble backward.
“By the way, Cross. I had a brief chat with the CEO of Sterling North this morning. It turns out, my fiancée feels uncomfortable breathing the same air as you. So, as the majority shareholder, I demanded a restructuring. You’re fired. Effective immediately.”
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Damian’s face went chalk white. “You... you can’t do that.”
“I just did,” Julian whispered coldly. “Now get out of my fiancée’s sight, before I decide to buy the bank that holds your mortgage.”
