Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Julian
"Julian. Win this case, and you'll be the firm's rising star."
I looked up. Blake was leaning against my doorframe, coffee in hand, watching me with that smug grin that made my skin crawl. His words sounded supportive, but that smirk said he was enjoying the show.
"More than a rising star." Jenkins sidled up, lowering his voice. "I saw your client's file. She's a real beauty. Win the case, get the girl. Julian, you're going for the whole package."
"Damn right." A balding middle-aged colleague grinned, his face creasing. "Voss, when you pull this off, you're buying us dinner. I've had my eye on that three-Michelin-star place downstairs."
"Count me in." A young lawyer in thick-rimmed glasses poked his head from the next cubicle. "Julian, if you can take down Thorne Group, you'll be a legend around here."
I adjusted my glasses, forcing my smile into something modest and professional. "Trial hasn't even started. Let's not get ahead of ourselves."
But honestly? My heart was pounding.
I'd spent two solid weeks preparing the complaint against Silas. Unlawful imprisonment, money laundering—I'd gathered every shred of evidence I could find, working day and night, cross-checking everything. The law was my battlefield, the only place I could beat that bastard.
Truth was, I wasn't exactly high on the firm's ladder. Plenty of lawyers had more seniority. But if I could successfully prosecute Silas, a high-powered CEO, my career would skyrocket. Partner track, bigger cases, more exposure...
And I'd have Anthea. Anthea. Just thinking her name made my throat tight. Since we were kids, she'd followed me around, those amber eyes bright and shining, saying she'd marry me when she grew up. Years later, she'd only gotten more beautiful. More irresistible.
I'd be lying if I said the thought of raising another man's kid didn't bother me. The baby was Silas's, and every time I'd see him, I'd remember Anthea had belonged to someone else. But it was a minor problem. Once we were together, she could give me a child of our own.
"Careful, Julian." Blake's voice cut through my thoughts.
He walked in, casually flipping through files on my desk.
"Don't get yourself buried. Thorne Group's legal team doesn't mess around.
Last guy who sued them? Their lawyers crushed him so hard he withdrew within twenty-four hours and apologized. "
"This is different." My voice came out firmer than I expected. "The evidence is solid. He can't run."
Blake's expression shifted. Now he was looking at me like I was about to jump off a cliff. He clapped my shoulder. "Good luck, Voss. You're gonna need it."
His words didn't shake me. I filed the lawsuit with complete confidence.
That night, I even had champagne. I imagined the courtroom scene—Silas Thorne's cold face finally cracking, and Anthea standing beside me, looking at me with gratitude.
But three days later, reality hit like ice water.
"Opposing counsel has filed a motion." My assistant handed me the documents, her voice careful. "They're challenging the admissibility of the evidence."
I skimmed through it fast. Every page felt like a blade across my face.
Insufficient evidence. Procedural defects.
My imprisonment claim? Anthea had "voluntarily resided" at Thorne Manor, backed by surveillance footage.
My money laundering charges? Every dollar Thorne Group moved had a legal explanation.
"That's impossible..." My voice came out hoarse and desperate. "I verified all of this..."
My hands started shaking. Silas's legal team had taken three days to shred my carefully prepared complaint.
"Voss!" Someone called my name.
I looked up. Blake was leading several clients out of the conference room. His voice carried across the entire floor.
"Didn't you say you were suing Thorne Group the other day?" He stopped deliberately at my door, his face painted with concern. "How'd that go?"
The clients looked at me curiously. My face burned. My throat felt blocked. I couldn't get a word out.
Blake, seeing my silence, turned to my assistant standing behind me. "What's going on? How's Julian's case progressing?"
My assistant was fresh out of law school. Blake's stare made her squirm. She stammered, "The opposing counsel... they filed a motion challenging our evidence."
"Oh?" Blake raised his eyebrows dramatically. "Julian, didn't you say you had solid evidence? How'd you lose so fast? What a shame!"
The clients exchanged glances, their expressions souring.
Blake shook his head and swept off with his clients, leaving his words echoing in my skull.
My fists clenched. This wasn't what I wanted. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. I was a lawyer. The law was my weapon. I should've been able to beat that bastard.
But I'd failed.
I trudged toward the break room. I needed coffee. The rest of today's work wasn't going anywhere. My footsteps were heavy. Before I reached the door, I heard voices inside.
"...pathetic, really." Jenkins's voice, dripping with scorn. "How did he think he could take on Thorne Group? I heard they've got mob connections. Who does Julian think he is?"
"Showing off for a woman, obviously." Another voice—the balding colleague. Dismissive.
Jenkins laughed. "Julian let some girl scramble his brains. Thorne Group sent one lawyer and crushed him."
The balding colleague's tone turned sycophantic. "You've got it figured out. We'll just watch him crash and burn."
I stood outside, blood pounding in my temples. These people had been smiling and flattering me three days ago. The second I failed, they showed their true faces. I turned and left, forcing myself back to my desk and the pile of work I'd neglected.
Finally, quitting time. I fled to a bar.
The lighting was dim, jazz drifting lazily through the air. No one here knew me. No one knew I'd failed. One drink after another. I lost count. Lost track of what I was drinking. The burn had gone numb, just like my heart.
"Another." I slammed the glass on the bar.
The bartender glanced at me, said nothing, and mixed me another.
I couldn't call Anthea. Couldn't tell her I'd failed. If she knew I couldn't even lay a finger on that asshole, what would see in her eyes? Disappointment? Contempt?
"Drinking alone?" A sultry voice drifted over with heavy perfume. "Mind if I sit here?"
I turned. A woman stood beside me. Pale blue dress, blonde hair cascading over her shoulders.
Anthea? I blinked, trying to focus. No. Not Anthea. This woman's eyes were brown. Her face sharper, more aggressive.
The alcohol blurred my vision. My voice came out slurred. "Sure."
She sat, ordered red wine. Under the lights, her profile was stunning, a strand of blonde hair falling across her cheek. For a second, I saw Anthea sitting here with me instead...
"You look upset." She sipped her wine, lips glossy. "Work?"
I swallowed reflexively. Heat surged in my chest.
"How'd you know?" I asked without thinking.
"Your suit's tailored, but your tie's loose and your cufflinks are undone." She smiled. "A man this put-together doesn't fall apart unless it's work or a woman."
I gave a bitter smile. "Both."
"Want to talk?" Her voice was lazy, soft. "Sometimes strangers are easier than friends."
I didn't know if it was the alcohol or what, but I started talking. About the case. My failure. Anthea.
"She was hurt by a bastard. I wanted to protect her, but I can't." I stared into the amber liquid in my glass, bitter. "I can't do a damn thing."
"Some things can't be changed, no matter how hard you try." She leaned closer, her hand brushing mine. "You're exhausted. Tonight, let everything stop."
Her aggressive perfume surrounded me—thick, sweet, nothing like Anthea's soft scent. My head swam. I forgot what I was going to say. I just saw her face getting closer. If she were Anthea... I didn't push her away.
When her lips touched mine, they tasted like sour wine. My hand cupped the back of her head, deepening the kiss.
"Anthea..." I mumbled the name.
She didn't correct me. Then her fingers wrapped around my tie, pulling me toward the hotel across the street. When the door closed, I pinned her against it, shoving my hand roughly up her skirt.
"You're really desperate." She laughed low in my ear.
I kissed her harder, driving two fingers inside her, searching this stranger's body for some shadow of Anthea. She moaned, the sound hitting my nerves like a stimulant. Even under this rough treatment, she was soaking wet. I pulled my fingers out, frantically unzipped, and freed my aching cock.
I didn't take off her dress, just let the blue fabric bunch at her waist. Anthea loved dresses like this. Sweet and modest.
But now? I treated this woman like Anthea, lifting one of her legs into the crook of my arm. I thrust hard, burying myself to the hilt. Tight, hot flesh wrapped around me instantly.
"Ah, no!" She screamed, pain and pleasure mixed.
"Your pussy says otherwise," I rasped in her ear, voice filthy. "You're clenching me, Anthea."
I gripped her waist and started pounding. Her body bounced with my movements, her back slamming the door.
But the woman beneath me was too practiced. Her waist moved like a snake, her inner walls contracting at just the right moments to please me. She tilted her head back, eyes sultry and hazy, meeting every thrust with practiced skill.
This wasn't Anthea. Anthea was inexperienced, pure. The thought made me furious. I yanked off my tie and blindfolded her. Vision stolen, she clutched my shoulders in panic.
Covering those brown eyes, leaving just the lower half of her face and that familiar dress, she finally looked more like Anthea.
"Squeeze tighter," I ordered, slamming into her viciously again.
After I'd vented against the door, I didn't pull out. I hoisted her up by the ass and carried her. With each step, my cock ground and rubbed inside her, making her cry out.
I crossed to the bed and threw her onto the soft mattress, climbing on top.
I tossed my glasses aside. The world blurred. The blonde woman in front of me completely merged with Anthea in my vision.
I knew she wasn't Anthea. But tonight, I needed to pretend. I spread her legs, folding them toward her chest in a completely open position, and kept fucking her hard.
"Say my name." I bore down on her, hips pistoning like a jackhammer.
"Julian..." She moaned on cue.
I closed my eyes, imagining it was Anthea's voice. Then I took her again and again, until I was completely spent.
Headache. That was the first thing I felt when I woke. My skull felt like someone had worked it over with a hammer. Where was I? I barely opened my eyes. Unfamiliar bed. White ceiling. The room's minimalist decor told me I was in a hotel.
"Good morning, Mr. Voss." A lazy, smug voice came from beside me. "Sleep well last night?"
I turned. The woman from last night lay naked next to me, chin propped on her hand, watching me. She looked pleased. Her hair was now a bold red. The blonde wig from yesterday was tossed carelessly on the floor.
"You..." My voice scraped out of my throat. "Who are you?"
I remembered everything from last night. I'd pretended she was Anthea, and then...
"Let me introduce myself." She sat up, completely unconcerned about her nudity. "Vanessa Zaitseva."
Vanessa. The name set off alarms. Anthea had mentioned this woman. Silas's ex-fiancée. The one who'd helped get Anthea deported.
"You pretended to be Anthea to get to me?" I sat up, demanding answers.
"You were too easy. A woman in her clothes, a few soft words, and you took the bait." She sneered, then unlocked her phone. "Let me show you something."
She tapped open a video and turned the screen toward me.
The footage was crystal clear. Me and her, on this bed... Every movement, every expression captured perfectly.
"What the fuck do you want?" I shouted, nausea churning in my stomach.
"Simple, Julian." She lowered the phone, her voice going cold. "I need you to help me kidnap Silas and Anthea's son."
My heart plummeted.
"You're insane. He's just a child!" My voice shook. "I won't do it. Don't even think about it."
"Oh no?" Vanessa casually threw on a bathrobe, waving the phone. "Then I'll send this video to Anthea. Let her see her most trusted childhood friend in bed with the woman she hates most. What do you think she'll think of you then?"
My breathing stopped.
"You can't—" My lips trembled.
"Silas destroyed my family. Put my father in prison, locked up my mother, made me run like a stray dog. Now I'm going to make him taste the same thing." Her eyes gleamed with madness. She looked at me. "If you don't want Anthea to hate you, you'd better do what I say."
I felt drained of all strength.
Olei was Anthea's child. But also... Silas's child.
Just handing the kid over. Not murder. Not unforgivable.
And... it was Anthea's child with another man.
If she'd never had that baby for Silas, she wouldn't be trapped in any of this. She could've had a normal life.
"Fine. I'll do it." I heard myself say.
Vanessa's mouth curved with satisfaction.
"Smart choice." She turned toward the bathroom. "Remember, you just need to tell me where the kid is. I'll handle the rest."
The door closed. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, one thought circling my mind.
What the hell am I doing?