Chapter 2
379words
Iris Sullivan's scream shattered the tense silence of the private room.
In an instant, Julian yanked her into his arms, using his body to shield her from the remaining droplets.
His expensive custom-made suit instantly bloomed with dark wine stains.
"Have you lost your goddamn mind!" He snarled, veins bulging on his forearm as he grabbed my wrist and shoved me backward.
I stumbled backward, my head cracking against the corner of the table. Stars exploded behind my eyes.
"Professor Winters, please stop! Dr. Shaw is hurt. You should help her... Otherwise, knowing Dr. Shaw, she might divorce you." Wine dripped down Iris's hair and cheeks, making her look like a tragic clown.
"Let her divorce me then. It's not like I need her," Julian said with deliberate arrogance, making sure I heard every word.
He gazed at Iris with unexpected tenderness. "You sweet fool, even now you're still defending her."
Julian grabbed a napkin from the table and gently dabbed the wine from her face, his voice soft as if soothing a frightened child.
"Are you okay? Did any get in your eyes?"
Iris collapsed against his chest like a victim of terrible injustice and finally broke into loud, theatrical sobs.
Julian stripped off his suit jacket and draped it over her slender shoulders, enveloping her completely. Then he swept her into his arms and strode toward the door.
"Let me help you clean up. We don't want you catching cold." His eyes brimmed with tender affection—the kind he should have reserved for his wife.
From beginning to end, he never spared me a single glance.
I knelt on the floor, touching my forehead. My fingertips came away stained with blood.
Look at this, Julian Winters.
Her little performance earns all your concern and protection.
While my real wounds, you never even notice.
My heart gave a twinge of pain, but beyond that, I felt only clarity.
I had loved him silently for over a decade, since my father was still alive.
But what difference did that make now?
I watched their retreating figures as they left together, steeling my resolve.
Don't feel pain, Claire Shaw.
Your job isn't to win him back.
It's to knock him off his precious pedestal and watch him shatter into pieces.
