The Devil Takes on the Saint

The representatives of all the bidders had arrived.

They were competitors, but they were also practiced operators. Everyone wore the same polished social smile as they exchanged pleasantries.

The moment Julian appeared, people gathered around to offer their sympathy.

Everyone in Fairhaven knew I was missing.

And everyone knew what a devoted husband he was.

“Julian, I’m sure your wife will be all right. Try not to worry too much. You need to take care of yourself.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your concern.” He gazed lovingly at his wedding band. “As long as Stella comes home safely, I’ll pay any price.”

I watched his revolting performance from outside the circle and wanted to spit in his face.

“Julian, you wrote this proposal yourself?”

One of the executives had noticed the name on the document.

That shameless bastard had replaced my name with his the night before.

Months of work. Taken from me as easily as that.

Julian gave a modest smile, looking fond and a little helpless.

“Stella’s very competitive. She likes being in the spotlight. As long as she’s happy, I don’t mind quietly supporting her behind the scenes.”

It sounded loving.

What he was actually telling them was that everything I had achieved was thanks to him.

How could a person be that shameless?

He knew better than anyone what my life had been like.

The relentless pressure. The workload. Often less than five hours of sleep a night.

I had depended on supplements just to keep my body functioning.

I had practically worked myself to death for Whitmore Group.

Now a few easy words erased everything I had done and handed all the credit to him.

“I always wondered how one woman managed to triple Whitmore Group’s market value in just a few years. So Julian was doing the real work all along.”

“I’ve always said Stella was just a pretty face. Looking like that, what else could she possibly offer? She got lucky. Found a man too in love with her to care about getting the credit.”

“Taking credit for someone else’s work. Unbelievable. Without Julian, she’d be nothing.”

“And don’t forget his investments. They call him the golden touch for a reason. None of his private projects have been especially huge, but every single one turned a profit. What did Stella ever do to deserve a man like him?”

Of course they turned a profit.

I wanted to shout it in their faces.

I had chosen every project for him, sorting through hundreds of possibilities to find the right ones.

Even with a fever of 102, I had been doing market research for Julian’s investments.

He stood there, accepting their praise without the slightest shame.

“Oh? So the person who’s been making trouble for me all these years wasn’t Stella Whitmore. It was you, Julian?”

A man’s cool, unhurried voice cut through the conversation like a falling blade.

The crowd parted without being asked.

Lucian Blackwood walked toward Julian.

At an occasion as sober as this, he had chosen a striking crimson suit. The red was so deep it looked soaked in blood.

With that almost wickedly beautiful face, he made danger and seduction seem inseparable.

Julian kept his expression composed, but alarm flickered in his eyes.

I, on the other hand, felt considerably better.

If he wanted to steal my achievements, he could take my worst enemy along with them.

Who better to handle a manipulative little saint like Julian than Fairhaven’s Devil himself?