"I Died on My Wedding Night. My Enemy’s Hair Turned White." Chapter 77

The next morning, as Lucian left Rosehaven for Whitmore headquarters, I went ahead to Julian.

He stood before a mirror, carefully inspecting himself.

Everything had been planned. Immaculate hair. A bespoke suit costing well into six figures, all discreet, old-family luxury.

He almost looked like a respectable human being.

He was in an excellent mood.

The morning financial news played on television.

“Julian Whitmore’s first public appearance as acting CEO produced a market sensation yesterday. Whitmore shares climbed ten percent in just five hours and have continued rising since today’s opening. Conservative estimates suggest he has increased the group’s market value by twenty percent in a single day, surpassing the gains achieved under former CEO Stella Whitmore during the previous quarter. His personal account gained eight million followers overnight. Admirers are calling him the new face of gracious, gentlemanly corporate leadership.”

Julian’s eyes shone with satisfaction.

Gavin looked at him with open admiration.

“Incredible, sir. One day, and you’ve done more than Stella managed in nearly six months. Once the investment arrives and you secure the project, we’ll be the biggest company in America within two years. No, one.”

I nearly laughed.

Gavin was a mediocre assistant. Clearly, flattery explained his long career at Julian’s side.

Julian concealed his pleasure beneath a calm expression.

“You’re exaggerating. When Stella comes back, I’ll give her the position. She’s done so much for the company. She’s the right person to lead it.”

I sat on the sofa and looked at his lying face.

Now I understood why everyone around him had disliked me.

No matter how hard I tried to be kind, they resisted me. Sometimes they were openly cruel.

At college, one of his roommates got drunk and pointed straight at me.

“You scheming bitch.”

I had met him twice.

I couldn’t understand what I’d done wrong.

So I tried harder to please them.

They only humiliated me more.

Julian always seemed to take my side afterward. He comforted me, looking heartbroken on my behalf.

Now I could see it.

He had been poisoning them against me all along.

Praise that sounded generous but made me look selfish and grasping.

The more devoted he appeared, the more certain they became that I was taking advantage of a saint.

Gavin proved the point.

“With respect, sir, you’re too good to her. She has your surname, but she’s adopted. An outsider. This family built the company over a century. It should belong to you, their real son.”

He kept going.

“And once she became CEO, she demanded twenty percent of the shares. People were saying that before long, the Whitmore Group would belong to her branch of the name alone.”

I smiled bitterly.

I had secured those shares for Julian.

He had complained, directly and indirectly, that the shareholders looked down on him because he held no equity.

So I fought for him.

I got the shares and made enemies of half the shareholders, leaving myself completely isolated.

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He had only needed to whisper in my ear.

All the rewards went to him.

All the blame came to me.

Looking back, his tricks were painfully crude.

And I had fallen for every one of them.

Right up until they cost me my life.

What a miserable, ridiculous life it had been.

“Enough. Don’t say that again.” Julian pretended to be displeased. “There’s no yours and mine between Stella and me.”

Of course.

Everything mine became his.

Everything his stayed his.

An excellent arrangement.

He got into the car outside the villa and checked the time.

“Any word from the people collecting Mr. L?”

Gavin called immediately.

The call connected, but whatever he heard made him frown.

“Understood.”

He turned toward Julian.

“The hotel says he checked out early this morning.”

Julian had been sitting with his legs crossed, enjoying the endless praise online.

His smile disappeared.

Without that investment, the government project would collapse.

The entire internet was waiting for his triumphant appointment.

Failure wouldn’t simply cost him the permanent role. He might lose the acting position, too.

Perhaps any position in senior management.

He called Mr. L.

As he waited, the seconds seemed to stretch.

He began biting his nails.

“The person you are calling is not answering.”

His face fell.

He called again.

And again.

Now the number was out of service.

His brows drew together.

Perhaps he was beginning to suspect he had been played.

Gavin tried to reassure him.

“He promised last night that he’d attend. Maybe something came up. He might have left the hotel and had his phone stolen.”

Julian wasn’t listening.

He refreshed the account page over and over.

The money hadn’t arrived.

He looked up at the company tower ahead.

There was no way back now.

Twice as many reporters as yesterday waited outside. Almost every media outlet in Fairhaven seemed to be there.

They had come to watch him become CEO.

I looked through the window at the crowd and thought of Lucian’s beautiful, calculating face.

He had fed the frenzy for one reason.

To lift Julian so high that the fall would destroy him.

Julian barely managed a few words to the reporters before Gavin escorted him inside.

Head lowered, face grim, he went straight toward the elevators.

The receptionist called twice.

He didn’t hear.

Finally, she hurried after him in her heels and caught him at the elevator doors.

“The government representatives arrived early. They have the new contract and are waiting in the executive conference room. The chairman and several major shareholders are there, too.”

Most of the remaining color left his face.

“Understood.”

He stepped into the elevator, struggling to remain calm.

Richard sent a message telling him to get to the conference room immediately.

He didn’t reply.

He opened Mr. L’s account again.

Still no money.

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