Chapter 21
Julian pulled a sleek leather notebook from his bag, the professional click of his pen grounding the moment. He waited until the taillights of Elara’s car vanished around the corner before looking back at Amara.
“Focus on me, Amara,” he said, his voice a calm anchor. “If we’re going to do this, we do it right. Elara Langford plays dirty, but she’s predictable. She relies on Seb family’s name to act as a shield p>
Amara took a deep breath, the trembling in her fingers finally subsiding. “I don’t care about her name anymore. She’s taken enough from me p>
Julian leaned in, his gaze intense and supportive. “Good. Then here is how we handle it. To sue her for damages, especially after everything she’s put you through, we need to strike where it hurts: her reputation and her sense of security p>
He began jotting down notes in a clean, sharp script. “First, I’m going to look into the accident that landed you in the hospital. If I can find even a shred of evidence that she was involved or negligent, we don’t just sue we go for a criminal filing. Second, we’ll hit her with a defamation suit for every lie she’s spread about you p>
Amara watched him, mesmerized by the transition from the “cool senior” to the formidable lawyer. “You seem very confident about this,” she whispered.
Julian stopped writing and looked up, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. “I’ve spent years winning cases for people I didn’t even like. Imagine what I’ll do for someone I actually care about p>
He tapped his pen against the table. “But I need you to be honest with me. Seeing Seb just now… is it going to be a problem? Because once we start this process, there’s no turning back. They’ll both try to come crawling back to manipulate you p>
Amara looked out the window at the spot where Seb had fallen, then back at Julian’s steady, waiting eyes. For the first time in years, she felt like she held all the cards.
“If you are asking about my feelings for him, then know I stopped loving him,” she said firmly. “The moment I found out our marriage was a fake, and Seron was his daughter with Elara p>
“Good, well, I mean, I’m glad you will not grow soft once we start the case,” Julian said. He was glad now that he got the chance to win her heart.
The atmosphere back at the mansion was thick with tension, a sharp contrast to the quiet warmth of the cafe. Seb sat stiffly on the sofa while Elara dabbed antiseptic onto his scraped hand, her movements far from tender.
“Seb, listen to me,” his mother said, pacing the marble floor with a restless energy. “I heard that French family, what was the name again? Pedro something… I’ve forgotten the details, but the point is, the heiress is throwing a magnificent party. We have to get an invitation. You’re coming with me p>
Elara’s hand froze. She looked up at Seb’s mother, her eyes flashing with a silent, sharp anger. She had worked so hard to push Amara out, and now she was being stepped over for a French heiress?
“Mum, please,” Seb groaned, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “I don’t care about a party. I need to find Amara p>
His mother stopped dead in her tracks, her expression turning theatrical and grim. “If you don’t go, you might as well kill your mother right now, Seb p>
“Mom Seb said dismissively, rubbing his temples.
“Just take my advice, okay? Only a girl of that caliber, the daughter of the Pedros, is a match for you,” she insisted, completely ignoring Elara’s presence.
Fuming and feeling invisible, Elara took her frustration out on Seb’s hand, pressing the cotton swab down hard into the raw wound.
“Gentle!” Seb barked, flinching and yanking his hand away from her. He looked at Elara with a flicker of annoyance, the first cracks in their perfect alliance beginning to show. Elara didn’t apologize, she just stared at him, her heart twisting with the realization that in this house, she was just as replaceable as Amara had been.
The tension in the room snapped like a dry twig. Seb didn’t even look at the bandage Elara was trying to finish, he simply stood up, his face set in a mask of cold determination that his mother hadn’t seen in years.
“Seb! Did you hear a word I said?” his mother called out, her voice rising in pitch. “The Pedro family is the key to our expansion! That heiress is p>
“That heiress is a stranger, Mom,” Seb interrupted, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. “And Elara is right here. If you’re so worried about matches, talk to her. I’m done p>
Elara stood up, the bloody cotton ball still clutched in her hand. “Seb, wait! You’re bleeding, and it’s dark out. Where are you going p>
“I’m going to find the only person who actually cared if I was breathing before I had a title,” Seb snapped, his voice echoing through the hollow grandeur of the foyer.
He didn’t wait for their protests. He strode out the front door, the heavy oak slamming shut behind him. The sound rang through the house, leaving his mother gasping in fake despair and Elara standing in a toxic silence, her nails digging into her palms.
Outside, the night air was cool, but Seb’s head was spinning. He climbed into his car, his injured hand throbbing against the steering wheel. He didn’t have an address, and she wasn’t answering his calls, but he began to drive toward the one place he hoped she might be, her old neighborhood, or perhaps that small park she used to visit when she needed to think.
He was driving blind, fueled by guilt and a desperate need to undo the damage, completely unaware that while he was hunting for a ghost of the past, Amara was currently sitting across from a man who was planning her future.