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Part XXXIII
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
Part XXXII
“A private banquet at the Aurelian!” Beatrice Croft gushed in admiration. “Amelia is truly in a league of her own now.”“And to book the presidential suite for you, Eleanor!” Miriam Shaw added, her eyes wide as she took in the breathtaking glass-enclosed room filled with rare orchids. “My Jonathan could never. The entrance fee for this tea alone would give him heart palpitations.”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 triu
Part XXXI
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
Part XXX
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
Part XXIX
Leo sat there, the phone still pressed to his ear, listening to the dial tone that echoed the hollow emptiness in his chest. The carefully set table, the candles, the ruined food—it was all a pathetic tableau of his own delusion. He was about to put the phone down when it vibrated with an incoming message. An unknown number. A video.With a sense of foreboding, he tapped the screen.The video was shaky, shot in a glamorous hotel ballroom. There was Amelia, more radiant than she had been on TV, laughing, her face flushed with victory and drink. And next to her was a man—tall, handsome, with the easy confidence of someone who owned every room he walked into. It was Julian Thorne, her college sweetheart, the one who had left for a banking career in London years ago. The one who had returned six months ago, swooping in as a consultant for Apex.The camera zoomed in as Julian, amid cheers and raised glasses, pulled Amelia into a deep, passionate kiss. Then, still holding her, he dropped to
Part XXVIII
Leo sat there, the phone still pressed to his ear, listening to the dial tone that echoed the hollow emptiness in his chest. The carefully set table, the candles, the ruined food—it was all a pathetic tableau of his own delusion. He was about to put the phone down when it vibrated with an incoming message. An unknown number. A video.With a sense of foreboding, he tapped the screen.The video was shaky, shot in a glamorous hotel ballroom. There was Amelia, more radiant than she had been on TV, laughing, her face flushed with victory and drink. And next to her was a man—tall, handsome, with the easy confidence of someone who owned every room he walked into. It was Julian Thorne, her college sweetheart, the one who had left for a banking career in London years ago. The one who had returned six months ago, swooping in as a consultant for Apex.The camera zoomed in as Julian, amid cheers and raised glasses, pulled Amelia into a deep, passionate kiss. Then, still holding her, he dropped to
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