Chapter 35
Evelyn's POV
"Oh, don't worry about it!" Isabella's laugh was bright. "I think it's charming, actually. Great minds think alike." Her smile sharpened slightly. "Besides, you wear it beautifully. The Row is such a wonderful choice—so modern and elegant."
She'd identified my designer. Establishing that we were equals in this arena, even if the power dynamics were far more complicated.
"Thank you," I said. "You look lovely as well. Dior suits you."
"Doesn't she?" Julian's voice cut in. He pushed off from the bar and dropped into the seat next to mine, close enough that I could feel the heat of him. I caught his cologne—leather and smoke. "Isabella's always had impeccable taste. It's one of her many virtues."
Isabella blushed prettily. "Julian, you're embarrassing me."
"Impossible," Julian said. Then he turned to me, and I felt his attention like a physical weight. "Evelyn. You look stunning. That dress is... perfect."
The casual claim of ownership made my jaw tighten.
"Thank you," I said flatly. "It was a gift."
"How generous." His smile widened. "From Adrian, I assume?"
The question was designed to provoke. To force Adrian into the conversation. I saw Adrian's hand tighten on his water glass, saw his jaw clench. But before he could speak, I answered.
"No. From an admirer."
The words left my mouth before I could stop them, and I felt a small, vicious spark of satisfaction at the way the room went still. If Julian could play games, so could I.
I was tired of being the one who always played nice.
Elizabeth made a small sound of disapproval. The energy in the room shifted. Everyone's attention focused on me with laser precision.
"An admirer," Elizabeth repeated carefully. "How intriguing. Anyone we know?"
"I doubt it," I said. I picked up my water glass. "Just someone I met recently. No one important."
Julian laughed, rich and amused. "No one important. That's harsh, Evelyn. Here I thought we were becoming close friends."
The endearment landed like a grenade.
I felt my face flush with anger, but Julian just leaned back in his chair, completely relaxed. "In fact, I'd say we've gotten to know each other quite well. Wouldn't you agree?"
"I wouldn't," I said through gritted teeth.
A flash of frustration shot through me. This was exactly the wrong approach. Engaging with Julian like this only fed him. He was shameless, completely impervious to embarrassment or social pressure. Every time I bristled, every time I tried to shut him down, he just took it as encouragement to push further. The only way to win against someone like him was to be even more shameless, to meet his provocations with complete indifference or turn them back on him twice as hard.
But I wasn't built that way. I'd spent too many years learning to be small, to be careful, to calculate every word before it left my mouth.
And he knew it.
"No?" He tilted his head, as if genuinely puzzled. "But we had such a lovely conversation just yesterday. You called me, remember? We talked for quite a while. Very... intimate discussion."
Adrian's knuckles went white around his glass.
"It was a brief phone call," I said coldly. "Hardly intimate."
"Hmm." Julian's eyes gleamed with amusement. "I suppose we remember it differently. I remember you sounding quite... vulnerable. Opening up to me in ways you don't with others." He glanced at Adrian. "No offense, of course."
The silence was suffocating.
Margaret Russell cleared her throat delicately. "Julian, dear, perhaps we should—"
"What?" Julian spread his hands innocently. "I'm just saying that Evelyn and I have developed a certain rapport. Nothing inappropriate, of course. Just two people who understand each other."
The implication hung in the air. That he knew things about me. That we shared secrets.
Adrian finally spoke, his voice tight with barely controlled fury. "Julian. Perhaps you should explain what you mean by that."
Julian's smile didn't waver. "I mean exactly what I said. Evelyn and I have been getting to know each other. She's far more interesting than I expected." He picked up his wine glass, swirling it lazily. "We've had some fascinating discussions. About Russia, for instance. About her time there. The things she learned."
My blood went cold. He was dancing right up to the edge of exposing me.
"Julian," I said quietly, a warning in my voice.
He met my eyes, and for a moment I saw the predator beneath the charm. Then he smiled and took a sip of wine. "Don't worry. Your secrets are safe with me." He said it loud enough for the table to hear, making it sound like an intimate joke between us.
Isabella looked between us, her expression uncertain. Henry Russell frowned. Elizabeth's lips pressed into a thin line.
And Adrian looked like he wanted to put his fist through Julian's face.
"In fact," Julian continued, as if he hadn't just detonated a bomb in the middle of dinner, "I've been thinking of inviting Evelyn to visit Titan's headquarters. Give her a tour. She expressed some interest in what we do." He turned to me with that infuriating smile. "Didn't you?"
"I didn't," I said flatly.
"No? I must have misunderstood." He didn't look remotely apologetic. "Well, the invitation stands. Anytime you want to see how a real security operation works, just say the word. I'd be happy to show you... everything."
The way he said everything made it sound obscene.
Adrian's chair scraped back slightly, as if he was preparing to stand. But Isabella put a hand on his arm, and he forced himself to stay seated.
"Julian," Elizabeth said, her voice like ice. "I think that's quite enough."
The waiters arrived with the first course, breaking the tension. Conversation resumed, but it felt forced. Strained.
Julian leaned closer to me, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "Relax. I'm just having a little fun."
"This isn't fun," I hissed back. "This is you deliberately trying to start a war."
"Maybe." His smile widened. "But you have to admit, it's entertaining. And besides—" his eyes flicked to Adrian "—he needs to understand that you're not his property. That other people can be interested in you. That you have options."
"I don't want options. I want you to stop playing games."
"But games are so much more interesting than the alternative." He picked up his fork, perfectly at ease. "And you're playing too, whether you admit it or not."
I had no answer to that.