Chapter 3
The room fell silent again. Julia lay flat across my chest without moving a muscle, shaking slightly.
I could feel warm drops dripping onto my chest.
Her tears.
"Why are you crying?" I tilted her chin up.
Her face was covered in tear stains, her eyes drowning in despair, and there was a flicker of lost confusion in them, something she herself hadn't noticed.
"You ruined me. You destroyed everything I had," she whispered.
I scoffed with a cold smirk. "I'm saving you from that broke loser who's full of hot air, so you can finally wake up and see how the real world works."
"Charles isn't some broke loser. He's got real talent. His project is about to take off," Julia shot back, her voice sharp and defensive, like I'd stepped on her tail.
"Project?" I laughed with pure sarcasm. "You mean that fake-ass AI interaction gimmick of his?"
Julia was stunned, her eyes wide in disbelief. "How do you know about that?"
How did I know? Come on, I knew way more than she thought. The entire thing was a total scam.
In the story, Charles used that project to win the Sinclair family's trust and investment, then turned around and sold them out.
And Edward actually tried to buy Charles's company, only to get played like a clown.
"Of course, I do, and I know his whole core algorithm was plagiarized garbage," I said casually, dropping it like an everyday fact.
Julia's complexion paled more. "That's impossible. You're making this up. Charles isn't that kind of guy."
"We'll know soon enough," I said.
I pinched her smooth cheek, enjoying the soft texture beneath my fingertips. "Julia, you're way too naive to play games with me. From tonight on, I'm the one making the rules."
With that, I flipped her over and pinned her beneath me once more.
"What else do you want?" Julia's eyes went wide with terror.
"We're doing what any husband and wife do," I replied.
Outside the window, the rain fell in a steady drizzle. I knew that Charles was out there, standing in the rain outside the villa, playing out his pathetic soap-opera drama.
Too bad. Tonight, the only audience was me, and the star of the show? She was so worn out that she couldn't utter a word.
The next morning, sunlight poured in through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows.
I woke up feeling totally refreshed.
Julia was still asleep beside me, or maybe she was only passed out.
Her eyelashes still caught lingering tears, and her eyes were rimmed with red, making her look utterly pitiful.
Stripped of her daytime glacial arrogance, she resembled a delicate doll in her slumber.
Well, she was actually pretty cute like this.
I soaked in the view for a second before getting out of bed.
Barefoot, I padded across the soft carpet and headed into the bathroom.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, towel around my waist, Julia was already awake. She sat up in bed, bundled in the blanket, staring at me with eyes full of complicated emotions.
There was this wild mix of pure hate, deep shame, and weird daze.
"Morning," I said, casually drying my hair.
She stayed silent, turning her head away and avoiding my gaze.
I didn't care. I strolled over to the walk-in closet, grabbed a casual outfit, and threw it on.
"Come downstairs for breakfast," I said at her rigid, trembling spine.
"I'm not eating," she muttered, her voice rough and stuffed up.
"I'll say it one more time. Get downstairs for breakfast," I said, my voice turning cold and commanding.
She stiffened, probably remembering how dominant I was last night.
After a few seconds of hesitation, she pulled the blanket off herself and started searching for clothes.
I looked at the marks scattered across her smooth back and smiled to myself.
My signature.
*****
Downstairs, a lavish spread awaited us.
Maria, the maid, stood respectfully off to the side, though her eyes kept darting inquisitively in our direction.
Julia sat there with her head hung low, taking tiny sips of milk quietly. She moved very slowly, like every mouthful was torture.
I cut a piece of fried egg and dropped it onto her plate. "Try this. You burned a ton of energy last night. Gotta get your strength back."
Even though I kept my voice down, Maria heard it all in the silent dining room.
Julia sprayed the milk she'd sipped all over the table. She went into a coughing fit, her face turning bright red as she shot me an angry look.
Maria tried to hide a laugh, quickly staring down at the floor.
"Edward," Julia hissed through clenched teeth, her voice low and full of rage.
"What is it, babe? Did I say something wrong?" I grabbed a tissue and, with a playful grin, wiped the milk off her lips like it was the most natural thing in the world.
She went stiff as a board. "You're shameless."
"Shameless? Please," I leaned in, dropping my voice to a teasing whisper. "You were way worse than this last night when you were screaming my name in bed."
Her face turned red, the blush creeping from her ears all the way down her neck. She was so embarrassed and angry that she was left speechless.
With nowhere to put her rage, she grabbed her silverware and started butchering the fried egg on her plate like it was me.
Nice try, but she was no match for me.
I was in a great mood, enjoying my breakfast.
Right then, my phone rang.
It was my assistant, Tom Warren.
"Good morning, Mr. Grant," he said.
"Spit it out," I said.
He said, "NovaTech, the company you asked me to keep an eye on, announced this morning that their NovaStar 1.0 system is a success. They've already secured angel funding, and the company is now valued at 150 million."
I raised an eyebrow. "Who's the investor?"
"The Sinclair Group."
I shot a look at Julia, who was still stabbing at her fried egg.
I knew it.
In the story, Julia pulled some strings to funnel cash from the Sinclair family straight to Charles, and that was the first nail in the Sinclair family's coffin.
"Got it," I said, my tone cool. "Keep watching them. And send over the patent files for the Genesis AI project I had you prepare. Make sure the legal team is ready to move at a moment's notice."
"Got it, Mr. Grant."