Chapter 7 - The Ex at the Door
The victory celebration in the executive suite of Sterling & Vance Media was loud, artificial, and dripping with champagne.
David Sterling was practically glowing, patting Olivia on the back with trembling enthusiasm as if he hadn't spent the last three days terrified she would ruin the firm. Senior executives who had spent years ignoring her in the hallways now lined up to offer effusive praise, clinking glasses and talking about her imminent partnership track.
Olivia accepted their compliments with a polite, distant smile.
She didn't feel victorious. She felt hollowed out, as if the fierce adrenaline that had carried her through the boardroom had finally burned itself out, leaving only ash behind.
She slipped away from the crowd, walking down the dim, quiet corridor toward the private terrace overlooking the downtown skyline.
The glass door slid open silently. The cool night air hit her face, smelling of rain and asphalt.
"You're hiding."
Olivia didn't jump. She knew that low, calm voice anywhere.
Julian stepped out from the shadows of the terrace pillar, holding a crystal glass of sparkling water. He wore his suit jacket unbuttoned, the city lights reflecting off the silver-gray depths of his eyes.
"I'm not hiding," Olivia corrected softly, leaning against the cold stone railing. "I'm just taking a breath. The noise in there is deafening."
Julian stopped beside her, leaning his hip against the railing. "Success is rarely quiet, Olivia. Especially when you achieve it over the ruins of people who tried to bury you."
Olivia looked down at her glass of champagne, watching the bubbles rise and burst against the surface.
"Megan won't look at me," Olivia murmured. "Every time I pass her desk, she acts like she's seeing a ghost. And Jake... Jake sent me six text messages today begging me to meet him for coffee so we can 'talk things through.'"
"Did you reply?" Julian asked, his voice deceptively casual.
"I blocked his number at noon," Olivia said without hesitation.
A faint, approving smile touched Julian’s lips. "Good. Men who trade gold for copper rarely know what to do when the vault door slams shut."
Before Olivia could respond, the heavy glass door behind them clicked open.
Footsteps echoed sharply across the terrace tile.
"Liv?"
Olivia froze.
She didn't need to turn around to recognize that voice. It was desperate, breathless, and soaked in panic.
Jake stood near the doorway, looking disheveled, his tie loose, his suit jacket wrinkled as if he had been sleeping in his car. He had obviously bypassed reception by slipping through the service stairs.
"Liv, thank God," Jake breathed, taking a step toward her. "I had to see you. Security wouldn't let me up to your office, so I waited in the lobby until someone propped open the side door."
Olivia turned slowly. She looked at the man she had spent three years loving—the man she had cooked for, worried over, and tried to build a future with.
In the cold light of reality, he looked smaller. Weak, desperate, and profoundly ordinary.
"You shouldn't be here, Jake," Olivia said, her voice dropping into a dangerous, icy calm. "This is a private corporate floor."
"I don't care about the floor, Liv," Jake stammered, ignoring Julian entirely as he stepped closer. "Look, I know I messed up. I know what I did with Megan was... it was a colossal mistake. But we were together for three years! You can't just throw all of that away over one stupid lapse in judgment."
Julian didn't move. He stood beside Olivia like a dark marble statue, his silver-gray eyes fixed on Jake with a cold, murderous detachment.
"A lapse in judgment," Olivia repeated, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Six months, Jake. That’s not a lapse. That’s a second life."
"She meant nothing to me!" Jake pleaded, his voice rising in panic as he reached out to grab her wrist. "She was just... she was convenient! Liv, please, we can start over. I moved out of her place this morning. I’m renting a studio downtown. We can go back to how things—"
His hand stopped mid-air.
Julian’s fingers had closed around Jake’s wrist with the speed and force of a steel trap.
Julian didn't squeeze hard, but the immovable pressure in his grip made Jake wince and draw back sharply, his face contorting in pain.
"She told you not to touch her," Julian said, his voice dropping into a low, terrifying growl that seemed to vibrate through the concrete terrace.
Jake swallowed hard, finally looking up and registering the man standing beside Olivia. Recognition flickered in his wide, panicked eyes.
"Mr... Mr. Vale?" Jake stammered, his bravado instantly evaporating. "I... I didn't realize you were—"
"You didn't realize a great many things, Mr. Miller," Julian interrupted, releasing Jake’s wrist with a dismissive flick as if brushing off lint. "Chief among them being the difference between a partner and an accessory."
Julian stepped directly between Jake and Olivia, his tall frame towering over the younger man.
"Miss Parker is currently leading the most lucrative corporate acquisition in this state," Julian continued, his voice dripping with lethal elegance. "And you are currently trespassing on private property while exhibiting the emotional stability of a stray dog. If you do not walk back down those stairs right now, I will personally ensure that every architectural firm from Seattle to New York blacklists your name so effectively you won't even be able to design a doghouse."
Jake stared at Julian, utterly annihilated. He looked back at Olivia, searching her face for a shred of the warmth, the forgiveness, the devotion she had given him for three years.
May you like
He found nothing. Just ice.
Without another word, Jake turned on his heel, tucked his tail between his legs, and fled back through the glass door, the heavy frame slamming shut behind him.
