Chapter 185
Nora's POV
Julian's hand was steady in mine as we walked out of the ballroom, past the whispers and stares. I didn't look back. Not at Kyle, not at his mother, not at the ruins of a world I'd once thought I wanted to be part of.
The underground parking garage was cold, the concrete walls amplifying the click of my heels. Julian opened the passenger door for me.
He rounded the front of the vehicle and got in, starting the engine without a word. The SUV rolled forward smoothly, up the ramp and out onto the street.
As we passed the hotel's main entrance, I caught sight of them through the bulletproof window.
Thomas Vaughn was being loaded into a black federal SUV, hands cuffed behind his back, two agents flanking him. The rotating lights painted everything in harsh blue and red, turning the scene into something from a crime drama. His face was purple with rage, mouth moving in what I assumed were threats or curses.
Victoria stumbled after the convoy. Her carefully maintained composure shattered completely as she tried to reach the vehicle before an agent gently but firmly held her back.
Kyle followed out of the hotel in a daze.
I watched it all through the tinted glass, my expression neutral. My fingers tightened around the clutch in my lap without my conscious decision.
The Vaughn empire is over.
I thought about Kyle's betrayal. About Victoria's cutting voice when she'd called me a gold-digger, a nobody, a mistake. About all those moments that had once hurt so much they'd left me gasping for air.
Now they felt distant. Faded. Like old photographs left too long in the sun.
I felt... relief. Not the sharp satisfaction of revenge, but something quieter. The simple freedom of finally, finally, being able to let it all go.
But watching Kyle stand there, frozen and helpless as his world imploded, I also felt a flicker of something I didn't expect. Not quite pity. More like... closure. This was the end of a story I'd stopped wanting to read.
I felt Julian's gaze on me before I saw it. When I glanced at him, he was staring at my face, reading every micro-expression in the dim light of the dashboard. He didn't say anything. Just gripped the steering wheel.
The vehicle climbed into the hills, leaving the city behind. Just the low rumble of the engine and the faint sound of tires on asphalt.
“Did you come tonight just to spring the trap on Thomas?”
"Yes." Julian's tone was matter-of-fact, no apology in it. "But it had nothing to do with you. This was about enforcing the law."
I turned to look at him. His profile was illuminated by the dashboard lights, jaw set, eyes on the road. "What did Kyle say to you on the terrace?"
His mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "A loser's exit speech."
I wanted to push, to ask what that meant, but the coldness in his voice stopped me. This was his ruthless side, the one who could dismantle entire corporations without flinching.
"He looked—"
"I'm tired, Nora." He cut me off, and I heard the exhaustion beneath the words.
I blinked, studying him more carefully. Now that I was paying attention, I could see the tension in his shoulders, the tightness around his eyes. "You barely touched your food at the banquet. Do you want to stop somewhere?"
"Not hungry."
I frowned at him, puzzled by the wall he'd suddenly thrown up between us. Julian was always controlled, but this felt different. Like he was holding something back that was taking real effort to contain.
I settled back into my seat and didn't say anything else.
---
The gates of Silver Ridge Estate swung open as we approached. Julian pulled into the garage, cut the engine, and sat there for a moment in the sudden silence.
Then he was out of the car and around to my side before I could reach for the door handle. He took my hand, his grip firm as he helped me out.
We walked to the front entrance together. He pressed his thumb to the biometric scanner. The door unlocked with a soft click.
The second it closed behind us, he had me against the wall of the entryway, his mouth crashing down on mine.
This kiss was nothing like the careful affection we'd shared before. It was desperate, almost angry, his hands framing my face like he was trying to prove something to himself. I gasped against his mouth, and he took the opening, deepening the kiss until I couldn't think straight.
I pushed at his shoulders, trying to catch my breath, trying to talk, but he didn't give me the chance. One hand slid to cup the back of my head, the other locked around my waist, holding me against him like I might disappear if he let go.
The motion-sensor light above us clicked on, flooding the entryway in harsh white. Then it went dark again. Our shadows merged on the wall, a tangle of limbs and desperation.
My clutch slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a soft thump.
When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard. He rested his forehead against mine, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling against mine.
"Julian." I managed to get his name out. "What's wrong with you?"
His eyes opened, and what I saw there made my heart clench. Jealousy. Raw and unfiltered.
"Hearing what you did for him," he said, voice rough and low. "All those things. I hated it. I was so jealous I could barely stand it."
I stared at him, caught between disbelief and something dangerously close to laughter. "You're... jealous? Of Kyle?"
He didn't deny it. Just kept looking at me with those storm-gray eyes, his expression serious in a way that was almost childlike.
"Everything you did for him," he said quietly, intensely. "Cooking. Birthdays. All of it. I want you to do it for me. I want to replace every single space he ever occupied in your life."
My heart slammed against my ribs. This wasn't the man I knew. This was Julian stripped down to something honest, vulnerable, and utterly possessive.
I reached up, wrapping my arms around his waist, and felt some of the tension leave his body.
"Okay," I whispered against his shirt. "I promise. I'll make it up to you."
---
He picked me up without warning, and I let out a startled laugh that he swallowed with another kiss. He carried me through the entryway, past the living room, his mouth never leaving mine.
The floor-to-ceiling windows. The leather couch. The banister of the staircase leading up to the second floor. Each surface became another place where he stopped to kiss me, to touch me, to make sure I understood exactly how much he wanted this. Wanted me.
By the time we reached the master bedroom upstairs, my dress was half-undone and my legs were wrapped around his waist. He laid me down on the bed, the soft white comforter sinking beneath my weight.
"You're mine," he murmured against my throat, his voice hoarse. "Only mine."
"Yes," I breathed, and pulled him down to me.