Chapter 34

The grand ballroom of the Blackwood estate shimmered under the glow of crystal chandeliers, casting dancing reflections across the marble floors. Evelyn Sinclair adjusted the silver mask perched on her face, her emerald gown whispering against her legs as she moved through the sea of masked guests.

Nathan Blackwood stood near the balcony, his dark suit accentuating his broad shoulders. His golden mask did little to hide the intensity of his gaze as it locked onto Evelyn. She felt the weight of his stare like a physical touch, sending a shiver down her spine.

Victoria Hayes, ever the viper in silk, slithered through the crowd, her crimson dress a deliberate contrast to Evelyn’s elegance. She leaned in close to Nathan, whispering something that made his jaw tighten.

Evelyn’s fingers curled into fists. Not tonight.

Serena Whitmore appeared at her side, her own mask a delicate lace. "You look stunning, darling. But you’re glaring daggers at Victoria. Careful—she thrives on attention."

Evelyn exhaled sharply. "She’s playing games again."

Serena smirked. "Then play better."

Music swelled, a waltz beginning. Before Evelyn could react, Nathan was before her, his hand outstretched. "Dance with me."

It wasn’t a request.

The moment his fingers closed around hers, heat flared between them. They moved in perfect sync, his grip firm, her steps light. The world blurred around them, leaving only the two of them in their own private universe.

"You’re avoiding me," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.

Her pulse stuttered. "You’re engaged."

His grip tightened. "Not by choice."

Victoria’s laughter cut through the moment like shattered glass. She stood with Marcus Donovan, Christopher’s agent, her smirk sharp enough to draw blood.

Evelyn pulled back slightly. "This isn’t the place."

Nathan’s eyes darkened. "Then where is?"

Before she could answer, a crash echoed through the ballroom. Glasses shattered as a masked figure stumbled into the center of the dance floor—Sophia Blackwood, Nathan’s sister, her face pale, her dress torn.

"Someone help her!" Evelyn gasped, breaking free from Nathan’s hold.

But Sophia’s next words froze the room.

"He’s here."

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

Nathan’s expression turned lethal. "Who?"

Sophia’s voice was barely a whisper.

"Daniel Prescott."

The name hung in the air like a death sentence.

Evelyn’s blood ran cold.

Because Daniel Prescott wasn’t just Sophia’s husband.

He was the man who had disappeared—along with five million dollars—two years ago.

And if he was back…

Nothing would ever be the same.

With these thoughts swirling in his mind, Julian's gaze hardened with determination.

Celeste seemed to sense the shift in his demeanor and fell silent.

"What did you want to say?" she asked quietly.

Julian's voice was deep, weighted with emotion. "Thank you."

Celeste blinked, clearly taken aback. She hadn’t expected those to be his first words.

"I mean it," Julian continued. "Thank you for coming to find me that day. For carrying me out. You saved my life. I owe you everything."

Celeste hesitated, her resistance wavering. "I accept your gratitude, but honestly... I don’t remember any of it. So, you don’t owe me anything. It’s all in the past."

But I don’t want it to be in the past.

A sharp pang of pain shot through Julian’s chest, but he kept his voice steady. "A simple 'thank you' isn’t enough. If my investment in your project makes you uncomfortable, think of it as repayment. No strings attached."

Celeste exhaled slowly. The project was too important to let personal feelings interfere. Still, his words made it easier to accept.

Finally, she nodded. "Fine. Consider it settled."

Relief washed over Julian. "There’s something else. I need to apologize."

Celeste’s expression tightened. "You didn’t do anything wrong—not from your perspective, at least."

Sorrow flickered in Julian’s eyes. "I know my apology means nothing after the damage I caused. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But what I regret most is breaking my promise to you when we were young. I should have stood by you. I should have believed in you. I failed you, Celeste. I’m so sorry."

An unreadable emotion flashed in Celeste’s gaze. She inhaled sharply, about to speak, but Julian beat her to it.

"And one last thing—I love you. Please, give me another chance. This time, I won’t let you down."

Celeste stiffened, her breath catching. When she turned to face him, her eyes locked onto his—and for the first time ever, she saw tears glistening in them.

Her heart stuttered. Julian never cried. Never.

"N-No, you don’t," she said, her voice shaky at first but steadying as she continued. "You think you love me because you regret what happened. But don’t drag me into this just to ease your guilt."

"I’m not—" Julian’s voice cracked.

Celeste admitted his confession had shaken her. Once, she would have given anything to hear those words. But not anymore.

She smiled faintly. "Even if you mean it, my answer is no. I don’t love you anymore, Julian. You’re incredible—you’ll find someone better. And when you do, I’ll be happy for you. As a childhood friend. Let it go."

With that, she turned and closed the door behind her.

Julian stood frozen in the hallway, his heart shattering.

Meanwhile, Evelyn shut the door and turned to find everyone looking grim.

Their disappointment was understandable—they’d expected drama, not heartbreak.

"I’ve never seen Julian like this," Marcus muttered, rubbing his temples. "This is bad. He’s not going to recover anytime soon."

"That’s Celeste for you," Vivienne, the female researcher, sighed. "Once she makes a decision, she never wavers."

An awkward silence settled over them. Once they confirmed Julian had retreated to his room, they dispersed.

Vivienne shared a room with Celeste. When she entered, she found Celeste sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window, lost in thought.

"You still care about him, don’t you?" Vivienne asked softly. "After loving him for so long, you can’t just stop overnight."

Celeste turned and smiled—but said nothing.

Vivienne quickly backtracked. "Forget I said anything. A woman like you? You’ll have suitors lining up overseas. You’ll find someone better."

Marcus, meanwhile, was debating whether to check on Julian. Evelyn had planned to take Lillian back to rest, but Marcus stopped her.

"Ms. Sinclair, he’s practically family, right? Aren’t you going to check on him? I’ve never dealt with a heartbroken Julian before. What if he drinks himself into a stupor? Or worse—what if he does something reckless?"

Evelyn rolled her eyes. "You and your imagination."

Still, she decided to humor him. Fine. He’s a client, after all. If he does something stupid, I’ll call an ambulance.

Marcus had the key card. He knocked first, but when there was no answer, he let himself in.

Only after confirming everything was fine did Evelyn step inside.

Julian was hunched over his phone, fingers flying across the screen.

"Julian, what are you—?" Marcus edged closer, only to see him researching Celeste’s project, her destination country, and the institute she’d be working at.

Evelyn arched a brow. Well, well. He’s not giving up.

Julian barely registered their presence, his focus unshaken. His expression was calm, almost detached—as if nothing could deter him now.

Evelyn sighed inwardly. Too bad Celeste’s made up her mind. Unless he pulls off a miracle, it’s over. Some chances don’t come twice.

Then—

A tear fell. Then another. Julian’s breath hitched as his vision blurred.

Marcus’s eyes widened. "Uh, we’ll just... go now." I am not staying to watch my boss cry.

Evelyn was stunned. He was fine a second ago!

A man like Julian, reduced to tears?

Now that was a sight.

Later, as Evelyn settled into bed, her phone buzzed.

Nathan: Did you make it back to the hotel?

Evelyn: Yeah. Your brother’s here too. Came to win Celeste back—got rejected. Hard.

Normally, she wouldn’t chat with Nathan, but tonight’s drama was too juicy to keep to herself.

Nathan: Hm. Doubt he’ll give up.

Evelyn: He cried.

Silence. Then—

Nathan: ...He what?

Evelyn smirked. Marcus is worried, so he asked me to keep an eye out in case Julian does something stupid tonight.

Typical brotherly concern.

Amused, she transferred the day’s earnings to Nathan, then turned in for the night.

Lillian, wide awake, made Evelyn envious. Youth.

A soft knocking came from the neighboring room.

Evelyn frowned. Who’s visiting at this hour?

Her curiosity got the better of her. Instead of opening the door, she peeked through the crack.

Isabelle stood there, desperation in her eyes.

"You doubt me too?" Julian’s voice was icy. "Just looking at you makes me sick. After all your lies, the only thing I feel for you is disgust. Leave, or I’ll call security."

Isabelle hesitated. "Have you been drinking?"

"That’s none of your business."

"Do you love her now? Not me?"

"Yes."

In a swift motion, Isabelle yanked off her coat, revealing a sheer nightgown that clung to her curves.

"Then let me be her for tonight. Just hold me, Julian. Please."

Evelyn had to admit—Isabelle was scarily good at mimicking Celeste. Her voice, her mannerisms—perfect.

But the act only enraged Julian further.

His hands clenched into fists.

This wasn’t going to end well.

When Isabelle threw herself at Julian with open arms, he reacted instantly—shoving her away with such force she stumbled backward. "Stay the hell away from me!"

"Ouch!" Isabelle cried out, clutching her elbow where she'd hit the wall.

Julian wasn't the type to lay hands on women—except when pushed beyond all limits.

And right now? He'd reached his breaking point.

The scene naturally drew attention.

Within seconds, doors from the researchers' quarters flew open—only to slam shut again as their occupants caught sight of the unfolding drama. One female researcher had just opened Celeste's door when the sight of half-dressed Isabelle made her gasp. She immediately tried to retreat.

"Celeste! How could you?" Isabelle wailed dramatically, tears streaming down her face. "First you steal Julian's heart, now you're trying to seduce him into your bed? Have you no shame?"

Julian's fists clenched, ready to intervene—until a startled gasp echoed in his mind.

The sound—inaudible to anyone else—froze him mid-step. Whirling around, he spotted Evelyn peeking from behind a pillar, her wide eyes darting between him and Isabelle.

Before he could question her presence, her panicked thoughts flooded his consciousness:

Oh god! Isabelle has an STD! Vincent gave it to her! Please tell me Julian didn't—not after all this time! How do I even—thank heavens Celeste didn't—

Julian's blood ran cold. In his shock, he forgot these were merely Evelyn's unspoken fears. Meeting her horrified stare, then Celeste's confused expression across the hallway, he blurted out the words that would haunt him forever:

"I never touched her! For fuck's sake, I'm still a virgin!"

Dead silence swallowed the corridor.