Chapter 22

• Julian paced the length of his opulent study, the polished mahogany floor reflecting the flickering firelight. His usually impeccable attire was rumpled, his usually composed demeanor frayed. The air hung heavy with the scent of expensive cigars and simmering rage. The escape of his wife, Cleo, and his bodyguard, Rowan – a betrayal of the utmost magnitude – gnawed at him, a festering wound that refused to heal. He had underestimated them, underestimated their audacity, their desperation, and the strength of the bond that had unexpectedly blossomed between them. This was unacceptable. Cleo was his possession, a prized jewel that had dared to slip from his grasp. He would reclaim her, no matter the cost.
• His clenched fist slammed against the antique desk, scattering papers detailing Cleo's financial transactions, her attempts to discreetly move assets, all now futile attempts in the face of his swift and decisive countermeasures. He’d frozen her accounts, seized her properties, ensuring that she would have no access to the funds he had meticulously controlled throughout their marriage. He was a master of control, and he intended to reassert that control with brutal efficiency.
• His phone buzzed, a notification from his private investigator, a man known only as “Viper.” Julian answered, his voice a low growl that carried the threat of impending violence. “Any updates?” he demanded, the words sharp and clipped, echoing the tautness of his nerves.