COULD YOU DANCE WITH ME? MY EX IS WATCHING

Sarah stared at Marcus, the blood roaring in her ears.

“You’re bluffing,” she managed to say, forcing her voice to remain steady. She didn't step back. She refused to yield an inch of ground to him. “Julian bought out Vanguard. It’s public record.”

Marcus chuckled, a low, ugly sound that made her skin crawl. He unfurled the paper in his hand just enough for her to see the Vanguard letterhead and a column of staggering financial transfers. They all bore one authorizing signature: Sarah Hayes.

“Julian Sterling bought the debt, Sarah,” Marcus said, his eyes glittering with triumph. “He thought he was acquiring the assets. But my partner on the board and I shifted the prime real estate holdings into a shell company before the ink was dry. And you, my sweet, naive ex-girlfriend, signed the transfer orders. I just needed your laptop and your password. Which, let’s be honest, you gave up as easily as you gave up everything else.”

Bile rose in Sarah’s throat. She remembered the nights Marcus had stayed late at her apartment, claiming he was helping her format her architectural portfolios. He had been planting the evidence to frame her for corporate treason.

“You’re going to jail, Sarah,” Marcus whispered, leaning in so close she could feel his breath. “Unless, of course, you do exactly what I tell you this weekend. You stand up in front of that board tomorrow, you resign, and you publicly accuse Julian of forcing you to embezzle funds.”

“I will never do that,” Sarah spat.

“You will,” Marcus replied smoothly, slipping the paper back into his pocket. “Or I ruin you. And I take great pleasure in doing it.”

He turned and melted back into the crowd of executives, leaving Sarah paralyzed by the roaring fire.

She had to find Julian.

She pushed through the crowd, ignoring the polite greetings of her colleagues. She moved down the long, timbered hallway toward the private wing of the estate. The music and chatter faded, replaced by the soft crackle of a secondary fireplace and the ticking of a grandfather clock.

She burst into the study.

Julian was standing by the window, a crystal tumbler of amber liquid in his hand. He had discarded his jacket, and the sleeves of his crisp white shirt were rolled up, revealing forearms corded with tension.

He turned as she entered, his dark eyes instantly assessing her panic. He set the glass down.

“What happened?” he demanded, closing the distance between them in three long strides.

“He’s here,” Sarah gasped, her hands shaking so badly she had to grip the edge of the leather sofa. “Marcus is here. He has documents, Julian. Wire transfers with my digital signature. He’s claiming Apex owns the Vanguard assets, and he’s going to frame me for the theft unless I accuse you.”

Julian didn’t flinch. He didn’t look surprised. He reached out, his large, warm hands gripping her trembling shoulders.

“Breathe, Sarah,” he commanded softly.

“How can I breathe?” she cried, tears of sheer frustration finally spilling over. “He used me. For three years, he made me think I was crazy, made me think I was lucky to have him, and the whole time he was just building a weapon to destroy me!”

“He will not destroy you.” Julian’s grip tightened slightly, grounding her. His thumb brushed away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. The touch sent a jolt of electricity straight to her heart, momentarily overriding the panic. “I knew about the wire transfers.”

Sarah froze. She looked up into his dark, fathomless eyes. “You… you knew? When?”

“Two weeks ago,” Julian said quietly. “My forensic accountants found them. It is why I cornered you at the gala. It is why I brought you here. I had to know if you were a mastermind, or a victim.”

“And what did you decide?” she asked, her voice a fragile whisper.

Julian’s gaze dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second before meeting her eyes again. The air in the room suddenly felt incredibly thin.

“I decided,” he murmured, stepping half an inch closer, so their bodies were nearly touching, “that you are a woman of profound integrity who loved a coward. And I decided that I am going to help you tear him apart.”

Sarah’s breath hitched. The gravity of this man was inescapable. In the midst of the worst crisis of her life, all she could think about was the heat of his hands through the fabric of her dress.

“How?” she breathed.

“By letting him think he has won,” Julian said, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. “Marcus needs the physical ledger of the shell company to finalize the asset transfer. He thinks it’s hidden in my office in New York. He doesn’t know I moved it here. To the estate.”

He let go of her shoulders and walked over to the massive mahogany desk. He pressed his hand flat against a hidden panel on the side. There was a soft mechanical click, and a drawer popped open.

Julian reached in.

He stopped.

Sarah watched his broad shoulders stiffen. “Julian? What is it?”

He slowly pulled his hand out. The drawer was empty.

Julian turned to look at her, his face a mask of absolute, terrifying fury. “The ledger is gone.”

Before Sarah could process what that meant, a frantic pounding echoed on the heavy oak door of the study. It flew open.

It was Maria, the nanny. Her face was ashen, her eyes wide with sheer terror.

“Mr. Sterling!” she sobbed, clutching the doorframe. “I went to check on her, but the window was open. I can’t find her.”

Julian’s blood ran cold. “Find who?”