Eleanor preened, stirring her Earl Grey with a delicate silver spoon. She was savoring this. “Oh, it’s all Julian’s doing, really,” she said, her tone dripping with false modesty. “He insisted. Said that after all my support, I deserved to be treated like royalty. He’s so… thorough.”The name ‘Julian’ hung in the air, ripe with curiousity. The women exchanged knowing glances.“Julian… that would be Julian Thorne, wouldn’t it?” Beatrice leaned in, “So, it’s true then? Amelia has finally… moved on from that other man?” She couldn’t even bring herself to say Leo’s name.Eleanor’s smile was a masterpiece of triumphant vindication. She gave a slow, deliberate nod. “It was time. A woman of Amelia’s stature needs a partner, not a… well, you know a miserable caretaker.” She placed her spoon down with a definitive click. “In fact, why don’t I show you? Julian has already secured their wedding home. The penthouse, right here in this very hotel.”A collective gasp went around the table. The pen

The lobby of the Aurelian Hotel was a temple to modern opulence. Soaring ceilings held cascading crystal chandeliers that scattered light like diamonds across polished marble floors. The air smelled of white lilies and luxury. For Elara, who had spent the last month navigating the grim, fluorescent-lit offices of debt collectors and the stark silence of her emptied bank account, the sheer grandeur was almost physically disorienting. She felt like a ghost trespassing in a palace.She kept a half-step behind Leo, her borrowed clothes—a simple, elegant sweater and trousers Olivia had procured—feeling flimsy.Leo, in contrast, moved through the gilded space with an unthinking ease, as if he were strolling through a park. He didn’t seem to notice the awe his presence inspired in the staff, who nodded with deep deference as he passed.“The penthouse is a separate lift,” he said, his voice low, guiding her toward a discreet, bronze-doored elevator tucked away from the main thoroughfare. He