Chapter 3

Julian sat alone in his dark hotel room for the entire night.

When dawn finally broke, he picked up his phone and made a call.

"Run a background check on Ethan Vance’s company. I want to know every single business deal he is currently working on."

The line went silent for a second, probably because the person on the other end was shocked he was awake at this hour.

Not daring to ask questions, the person gave a quick confirmation and hung up.

He stood up, walked to the window, and ripped the curtains open.

The morning over the island was gray and foggy.

Three days later, I returned from my honeymoon. The moment we landed, my phone rang with a call from my office.

I was standing by the luggage carousel, clutching the phone between my ear and shoulder, leaning down to lift my suitcase off the belt.

The bag was heavy. On my wrist, I was wearing a seashell bracelet Ethan had braided for me at a local beach market.

"Nora, Sterling Group just reached out. They want to collaborate on a new project, and they specifically requested you to lead the negotiations."

My hand froze on the handle of my suitcase. I didn't answer immediately.

"Reject it."

"But they’ve already sent over the letter of intent. The terms they're offering are incredibly generous."

Ethan pushed the luggage cart over and looked at me.

He must have read the situation on my face. He stopped the cart, gently took the phone from my hand, and hung up.

"Then let's negotiate. In his boardroom. Your turf."

He said it so casually, like he was just deciding what we should have for dinner.

I looked at him. He leaned down, tucked the phone back into my bag, took my suitcase, and held my other hand.

"Let's go. The car is waiting outside."

A week later, I was sitting with my team in the main conference room of the Sterling Group.

When Julian pushed the door open, he was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his hair styled flawlessly. There was no trace of the desperate man from the wedding.

He walked over and sat directly across from me, separated by a long mahogany table that could easily seat twenty people.

"Nora, it's been a long time."

He called me by my name, a polite smile on his face, but his eyes were locked onto my face, never wavering for even a second.

"Mr. Sterling, let's get straight to the project."

I flipped open the contract, pen in hand. No small talk. No pleasantries.

He glanced at me, opened his own file, and began outlining the proposal.

As he spoke, his fingers kept spinning his pen. I knew that habit all too well. He only spun his pen when he was incredibly nervous.

Five years ago, during his first major presentation to the board of directors, he had spun his pen just like that for the entire meeting. His palms had been dripping with sweat afterward.

Back then, I had been sitting in the very front row. Every time he looked down at me, the pen would spin even faster.

"All the conditions are listed in the appendix. What do you think, Nora?"

"The terms are acceptable, but the timeline is too short. I don't take on rushed projects."

I pushed the contract back toward him.

When he reached out to take it, his fingertips brushed against the back of my hand.

I pulled my hand back instantly. He didn't pull the contract away right away; his hand lingered in place for a second before slowly retracting.

"Then we’ll extend it by two months. You call the shots."

He agreed so quickly that his VP sitting next to him visibly flinched.

The VP leaned in, wanting to say something, but Julian shot him a warning glare, forcing the man to swallow his words.

Once the meeting was adjourned, Julian ordered everyone else to leave.

Only the two of us remained in the massive boardroom.

He stood up, walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window, and kept his back to me. It took a long time before he finally spoke.

"Your hair is much longer now."

He didn't turn around. His voice bounced off the glass pane, sounding muffled and heavy.

Five years ago, he loved twisting the ends of my hair around his fingers. Back then, it barely brushed my shoulders. He always said it was too short and begged me to grow it out.

Later, during my first winter in London, I cut it all off into a sharp bob. The hairstylist had asked if I wanted to keep some length, and I had said, "No, make it as short as possible."

After it was done, I stared at myself in the mirror for what felt like an eternity. Then I stood up, paid, and walked out into the freezing London rain without once looking back.

"Mr. Sterling, please have your team email the revised contract to my office."

I packed my documents and started walking toward the door.

His voice cut through the silence behind me.

"Nora. Five years ago... do you really not want to hear a single word of my explanation?"

I stopped at the threshold but didn't turn around.

"You already explained. You said you were saving a life."

"I was telling the truth! She was drowning! If I hadn't jumped in, she would have—"

"She can swim."

I turned around to look at him.

"Chloe Bennett knows how to swim. I told you this five years ago. You told me I was just being jealous and dramatic. Are you seriously going to stand there and use the same excuse today?"

He remained silent, his lips pressed into a tight line. He was gripping his pen so hard his knuckles turned white.

Engraved on the cap of that pen were his initials. It was a birthday gift I had given him five years ago.

I had searched through almost every engraving shop in the city just to find that specific vintage font.

Now, the black lacquer on the pen was chipped, revealing the dull metal underneath.

"Sign the contract or don't. That's up to you. But Julian, stop using business as an excuse to talk to me about the past."

I pulled the door open and walked out, the freezing AC of the hallway hitting my face.

As the elevator doors closed.

I leaned back against the mirrored wall, closed my eyes, and let out a long, heavy breath.