Chapter 135 All Of That Is In The Past Now

Chapter 135 All Of That Is In The Past Now
Lucian's POV

The dashboard camera footage played on the massive screen in Dominic's study, the timestamp glowing in the corner like an accusation. My silhouette was deliberately blurred in the rain-soaked frame, but Julian's face remained crystal clear as he shoved Briar toward the traffic.

"One month," Dominic's voice cut through the silence like a blade. "You're confined to the estate, Julian. And you—" His gaze shifted to me. "You'll handle Sterling Pharmaceuticals in his absence."

I bowed my head in apparent submission, though satisfaction coiled tight in my chest. The plan had worked exactly as intended.

Three weeks blurred together in relentless negotiations and strategic maneuvering. The senior executives Dominic assigned proved surprisingly competent, their loyalty shifting as I closed three critical deals that had languished under Julian's distracted leadership. Each contract I secured tightened my grip on the company's operations, earning grudging respect from board members.

"Impressive work," Dominic acknowledged during a packed conference room meeting. "Lucian will now attend all core strategy sessions."

But even as I consolidated my position, my nights remained haunted by Briar's contact information glowing on my phone screen. My thumb would hover over the call button before I'd lock the screen and set it aside.

"I need to discuss your marriage prospects," Dominic announced one evening in his study. "The Ashford girl—Rowan. She'll be at the Silverwind jewelry exhibition next month."

My jaw tightened as an unwelcome image flashed through my mind: Briar discovering I'd courted another woman, her fury surely preceding her killing me.

"The Castellan family offers better strategic positioning," I suggested carefully. "Liam Miller serves on the werewolf council. His influence could counter the Davenport faction's maneuvering."

Dominic's eyes narrowed, processing the suggestion. "Oscar Castellan's niece—Maya. Yes, that could work." His gaze sharpened. "Arrange a preliminary meeting."

I nodded, having bought myself time before facing Briar's potential wrath over a marriage I had no intention of honoring.

---

Julian's POV

The isolation wing had become my prison for twenty-eight endless days. I sat on the narrow bed, my reflection showing a face gone pale and hollow, my voice hoarse from disuse.

Footsteps echoed outside, and Willow entered without knocking. "The Davenport family applied significant pressure. Dominic had no choice but to release you. But you'll need to cooperate publicly with the engagement."

"Why would you help me?"

"Because you're still useful." She perched on the windowsill. "And because watching you destroy yourself serves no one's interests."

Some pathetic part of me still clung to a desperate fantasy: if Briar could accept Lucian, then maybe she could eventually accept me too. The logic was twisted, but it was all I had left.

Back in my apartment, I confronted Willow over cold coffee. "The photos, the footage—all came from you."

"You can't prove that."

"And Montgomery Medical? How deep does your cooperation run?"

Willow's expression turned pitying. "Do you really believe there's such a thing as a free lunch in this world, Julian?"

I had no response. At least I hadn't burned this bridge completely.

Late that night, I pulled up Briar's "Awakening Interview" series. The third episode loaded, her face filling the screen—composed, fierce, utterly beyond my reach. I'd watched the first two obsessively: "Escaping Toxic Relationships" and "Private Shame vs. Public Abuse."

"I hope he drowns in guilt," Briar said to the interviewer, her voice steady and merciless. "I hope that every sleepless night, he sees my eyes in that cold rain."

"Do you think you'll ever forgive him?"

"Forgiveness?" Briar's laugh was sharp. "I'm not interested in reconciliation or closure. I'm moving forward with my life, and he's welcome to do whatever he wants with his."

My laptop slid from nerveless fingers as I collapsed forward, burying my face in my arms. The floor was cold beneath me, much like the future I'd carved for myself. I realized with crushing certainty that I would spend years drowning in exactly the guilt she'd described, with no hope of absolution.
---

Briar's POV

"Special delivery." Rowan dropped an embossed invitation on my desk—the Silverwind Pack's silver seal gleaming. "Jewelry exhibition next month. Very exclusive, very political. You're going."

I picked up the invitation, studying the elegant calligraphy. "Who should I be networking with?"

Rowan perched on my desk, scrolling through her phone. "Ironwood Pack is sending reps from three subsidiaries. I got you invited to make introductions." She paused, her tone serious. "The Castellans will be there—Oscar's bringing his niece Maya. Her uncle Liam wants a council seat. Useful connections."

"Liam Miller," I murmured, my mind already working through the political implications.

Rowan's grin turned slightly predatory. "And here's the interesting part: Willow and Maya are... let's say half-enemies. If you play this right, Maya might actually help you deal with Willow's scheming. The enemy of my enemy and all that."

I considered the strategic possibilities, weighing potential alliances against the risks of deeper political entanglement. "I'll assess the situation when I'm there. No commitments until I understand the full landscape."

Later that afternoon, I met with Eric in the product development lab. The overseas expansion had reached a critical juncture, and our competition with Montgomery Medical Group had finally stabilized into something resembling a stalemate. Eric spread product samples across the conference table with the careful precision of someone presenting battle plans.

"For international markets, I recommend we focus on three core products," he explained, pointing to each item in turn. "The herbal spray for respiratory support, the lunar energy bars for sustained nutrition, and the wolfsbane gel for topical applications. They're proven, scalable, and address genuine needs in underserved communities."

"Agreed." I studied the samples. "But I don't want us fighting this battle alone anymore, Eric. I'm proposing we establish an International Werewolf Lifestyle Brand Alliance."

Eric's eyebrows rose. "A cooperative?"

"Think of it as strength in numbers," I elaborated. "One company struggling alone will always be vulnerable to larger competitors crushing us through sheer market power. But if a hundred smaller brands unite, support each other's growth, and present a unified front? We stabilize our foundation first, then help individual brands achieve independence once they're strong enough to stand alone."

Understanding dawned across Eric's features, followed by something that looked almost like hope. "You're talking about collective resistance. Protecting each other until we're all secure enough to thrive independently."

"Exactly." I felt a surge of determination. "Will you and Owen reach out to potential partners? Start building those relationships?"

"Consider it done," Eric promised, already pulling out his phone to make notes.

Next day, a Silverwind rep brought jewelry samples. As velvet cases opened across the conference table, an emerald ring caught my eye—its deep green reminding me of Lucian returning my mother's necklace, promising to help me reclaim what I'd lost.

I deliberately looked away from the emerald, my jaw tightening against the surge of complicated emotions. My hand moved instead to a pair of ruby drop earrings, their rich red gleam suiting my mood far better than any reminder of broken promises.

"These," I decided firmly.

"My brother wanted to buy Julian's raw emerald stock," Rowan mentioned over coffee. "Julian refused. He had the whole lot commissioned to Secret—that ultra-exclusive jeweler. They made an entire matching set."

My hand stilled. "A matching set?"

"Necklace, earrings, bracelet. I assumed he was planning to give them to you. Did you ever see them?"

"No," I said flatly, though my mind raced backward to that day at the mountain lodge—Julian arriving with a red velvet box and roses before everything collapsed into violence.

I looked down at my reflection, the ruby earrings glinting. "It doesn't matter," I said quietly. "All of that is in the past now."