Chapter Three
The air in the ballroom was thick with the scent of lilies and wealth. Chandeliers hung like constellations, casting a golden glow over a sea of designer gowns and tailored tuxedos. In my past life, this was my element—a playground for gossip and public spectacle. Now, it felt like a trap.
Veronica's hand was a vice grip on my arm as we moved through the crowd. "There he is," she whispered, her eyes glittering with predatory glee. "Julian Hayes. He's over by the silent auction. We need to do this now before he mingles with the donors."
My gaze followed hers, and my breath caught in my throat. I had seen pictures of him a thousand times, but seeing him now was like looking at a stranger. The man I remembered was a ruthless caricature, a villain in a story written by others. The man standing before me was simply a man—tall, with a quiet intensity in his dark eyes and a face that held a permanent air of caution. He wasn't the monster I had made him out to be; he was the victim of my own foolishness. The guilt was a physical weight in my chest.
Veronica nudged me. "Go on. Make sure everyone hears you. This is the first step to exposing what he really is."
"I... I can't," I said, my voice barely a whisper.
She froze. Her smile vanished, replaced by a hard, cold stare. "What did you say?"
"I said, I need a moment," I lied, pulling my arm free. "I'm a little nervous. I'll be right back."
Before she could object, I turned and walked directly toward Julian Hayes. Every step felt like I was walking into a fire. His back was to me, but as I got closer, he turned, his gaze sweeping over the crowd until it landed on me. His expression was one of polite indifference, a mask he wore to protect himself from people like me.
When I stopped in front of him, the mask didn't slip. "Miss Vance," he said, his voice as cool and smooth as river stone. "A pleasure."
My past self would have launched into a vicious verbal attack, a performance for the benefit of those watching. But this time, I ignored the audience. "Mr. Hayes, I need to talk to you," I said, keeping my voice low. "Privately."
His eyebrows rose slightly in surprise. He glanced over my shoulder, no doubt seeing Veronica's furious expression, before his eyes settled back on mine. "I'm afraid I'm quite busy."
"Please," I insisted, the desperation in my voice making my old arrogance completely disappear. "This isn't what you think. My 'friends' are trying to set you up. I know it sounds insane, but they're the ones who are lying."
He stared at me, his face unreadable. He had no reason to believe me. Why would the woman who had publicly slandered him for months suddenly be his savior?
I reached into the pocket of my dress and pulled out the flash drive. It was my only piece of tangible evidence. "They're planning to use this tonight. It has fake evidence against you. Take it. Please."
His hand, hesitant at first, finally reached out. As he took the drive, his fingers brushed against mine. A flicker of genuine confusion, not indifference, passed across his face.
"What is this?" he asked, his voice now lower, tinged with suspicion.
"It's the truth," I said, turning away before I could say anything else. I had done what I came here to do. Now, the rest was up to him. As I walked back into the crowd, I could feel Veronica's furious glare burning a hole in my back. My old life was dead. This new one had just begun.