Chapter 3
Elena's POV
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and there he stood—Julian Sterling.
For a split second, we both froze.
His eyes widened, then squinted, his gaze moving from my face down to my neck.
I knew there were some hickeys there.
His expression shifted from shock to something uglier.
"Elena?" His voice dripped with disbelief and barely concealed contempt.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"That's really none of your business, Julian ." I kept my voice level, professional, almost, as if we were strangers making small talk in an elevator, instead of ex-lovers whose lives had just collided in the most grotesque way possible.
His eyes raked over me again, taking in every detail with the same meticulous attention he brought to polling data and donor lists.
When he spoke, his voice was sharp with mockery.
"Wow.Just wow. We broke up—what, less than twenty-four hours ago?—and you've already found yourself a new sugar daddy? That was fast, even for you ."
The accusation hung in the air between us, and I felt something cold and hard settle in my chest.
He thought I was a whore.
Fine.
Let him think it.
It was closer to the truth than he knew.
"I didn't realize I needed your approval for my life choices," I said, brushing past him toward the elevator.
"We're done, remember? You made that clear when you told me I didn't fit into your political future ."
"Oh, come on ." He grabbed my arm, spinning me back around with enough force to make me stumble.
His grip was tight, possessive in a way it had never been during our four years together.
"Last night you were crying, acting all wounded. That whole victim performance—was that real, or were you already planning your next move?"
The memory hit me then, sharp and unwelcome.
Last night feels like it happened in a past life. I was standing at the door of his campaign office, watching him have sex with Claire Harrington at his desk.
I remember how my hands had moved before my brain caught up, pulling out my phone and opening the camera app.
The shutter sound had cut through the room like a gunshot as I took three clear photographs—Julian's face visible over Claire's shoulder, her legs locked around his waist, both of them frozen in that terrible moment of recognition.
"What the fuck—" Julian had lunged for me, but I'd already stepped back into the hallway, my finger hovering over the share button.
"Four years ." I'd heard myself say, my voice sounding strange and distant.
"I came here tonight because everything went wrong today.
I thought I could come to my boyfriend when things got bad ."
Julian had his pants on by then, his face cycling through emotions too quickly for me to track.
"Elena, delete those photos. Right now ."
But I hadn't.
I'd stood there in that hallway, my whole world crumbling, and I'd done the math.
Those photos were worth something.
They had to be worth something, because I had nothing left.
"Two and a half million dollars," I'd said, my voice steady even as my hands shook.
"That's what I need. My brother's bail, the lawyers, and my father's debt that he forged my signature. You pay that, and these photos disappear forever ."
Claire had appeared in the doorway then, her dress smoothed down, her lipstick somehow still perfect.
"You're really going to try to blackmail him? How pathetic ."
"I'll tell Arthur," Julian had interrupted, his voice cold now, all the guilt gone and replaced with something harder.
"You think you can threaten me? I'll tell my father exactly what kind of woman you are. He's Aegis Tech's primary investor. One phone call from me, and you'll lose your job. Your career.Everything ."
I'd stared at him, at this man I'd loved for four years, and realized I'd never really known him at all.
"Security!" Julian had called out, his voice sharp and commanding, the voice he used when addressing campaign volunteers he considered beneath him.
"We have an intruder ."
Two security guards had appeared within seconds, their hands already moving toward my arms, and I'd stumbled backward, my phone clutched uselessly in my hand.
"Those photos mean nothing," Julian had said, his voice cold now, all pretense of civility gone.
"You think anyone would believe you? " He'd stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper only I could hear.
"You get nothing, Elena. Not a single cent. Now get the fuck out of my office ."
The guards had escorted me out.
I'd stood there on the sidewalk, soaked and shaking, my phone with its three damning photographs still in my hand, worth exactly nothing.
Hours later, I'd received Arthur's offer.
And Julian's cruelty—his security guards, his threats, his absolute certainty that I was worthless—that had been the final push.
That had been the reason I'd picked up the pen and signed my name on Arthur Sterling's dotted line, selling myself for three years because at least this time, I'd get paid for it.
I yanked my arm free from Julian's grip now, the present snapping back into sharp focus.
"Who?" The word came out strangled ."Just tell me who the fuck you're sleeping with ."
"Someone who can afford me," I said sweetly, and pressed the button for the lobby.
This time, when the doors closed, he didn't stop them.
I sagged against the elevator wall as it descended, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.
I'd done it.
I'd faced Julian Sterling, and I hadn't broken.
My phone buzzed with a new notification.
An email from HR, marked urgent.
My stomach dropped as I opened it, already bracing for whatever fresh disaster awaited me.
