"He Rejected Me—Until I Belonged to Someone Else" Chapter 7
I CHOSE HIS RIVAL
The annual Harbor Foundation gala was the sort of event where Crown City's richest people gathered to congratulate themselves for being charitable. Julian would be there. So would Adrian. I had an invitation through the museum's restoration committee, and I decided to use it.
Noah helped me prepare a written record of the messages Julian had sent. Adrian arranged security that stayed discreetly nearby. Neither man tried to talk me out of attending.
I wore a dark green suit I'd bought with my first payment from the museum contract. When Adrian saw me at the bottom of the stairs, he forgot the sentence he was speaking into his phone.
“I'll call you back,” he told whoever was on the line.
“Too much?” I asked.
“Not remotely enough warning.” He offered his arm. “May I?”
I took it, trying not to smile like an idiot.
For almost an hour, the gala went beautifully. I talked with colleagues, examined a small exhibition, and introduced Adrian to people in my professional world. He let me lead the way.
Then a familiar voice cut through the room.
“Elliot?”
Julian stood near the entrance, white-faced. His blond hair was perfectly styled, his tuxedo expensive, but he looked as if he hadn't slept well in weeks.
He walked toward me without acknowledging anyone in his path. When he reached us, he caught my wrist.
“You're alive.”
“Yes. Let go.”
He loosened his grip but didn't release me. “Do you know what I went through? I thought you were dead.”
“I was injured. My family and the authorities knew I survived.”
“You didn't tell me.”
“You weren't entitled to know where I was.”
His eyes flicked to Adrian. Understanding arrived, followed by fury.
“So this is what it's about. You're punishing me with him.”
“No. I've moved on.”
“You loved me for five years.”
“I did.”
“And you think you can turn that off?”
“I think you did a lot to help.”
Julian flinched. He tightened his hand around my wrist again. Adrian stepped forward, but waited when I raised my other hand.
“Let me go, Julian,” I said, clear enough for the nearest guests to hear.
He released me.
Adrian stood at my side. “Elliot, do you want to leave?”
“No. I want him to hear this.”
I faced Julian. “I loved you. I waited for you. I made excuses for every cruel thing you did, because I thought I could earn kindness by being useful. I don't believe that anymore.”
“Elliot—”
“Don't interrupt me. You had five years to speak. Now it's my turn.”
His mouth snapped shut.
“I don't love you. I'm not coming back. Don't contact me again.”
Julian looked from my face to Adrian's. “You really think Sterling cares about you? He's my biggest rival. He's using you to humiliate me.”
“Adrian has never asked me to prove anything.”
“Elliot, you don't know him.”
“I know he listens when I say no.”
Then, because I wanted to—not because Julian was watching—I reached up, caught Adrian's tie, and pulled him close. His eyes widened just before I kissed him.
He touched my cheek carefully, as if we were alone instead of standing in the middle of a crowded gala. When I stepped back, I saw the astonishment in Julian's face.
“He's not yours,” Julian said hoarsely to Adrian.
“You're right,” Adrian replied. “Elliot isn't a prize.”
Julian's expression turned hard. “Then let's see how long you can keep him safe.”
Noah, who had arrived behind him, heard every word. So did two foundation trustees. The threat followed us out of the ballroom in the form of witness statements.
In the car, I shook so badly I couldn't fasten my seat belt. Adrian didn't touch me until I reached for his hand.
“I thought I'd feel triumphant,” I confessed.
“And?”
“I feel sad for the person I used to be.”
He pressed my knuckles to his lips. “You can grieve him. I'm glad he's still here to see what comes next.”
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