After the Affair Falling into a Billionaire's Arms novel Chapter 64

**Clocks Lie To Hearts by Asa River Flint**

The chaotic screams sliced through the air, pulling Louisa back into the harsh grip of reality.

In her mind, Julian—the man who had swooped in to rescue her time and again—was an embodiment of purity, a sacred figure untouched by the grime of the world. She could never bear the thought of dragging him into the tangled web of her troubles, the chaos that seemed to cling to her like a shadow.

With a smile that felt as cold as ice, she directed her gaze at Vivian, choosing silence as her weapon. Instead, she slowly lifted her injured hand and began to peel away the silk scarf that had been wrapped around her wrist.

The vibrant red scarf had done its job well, hiding any sign of her injuries beneath its fabric. But as it slipped free, the thick white bandages that encased her wrist were revealed to the horrified eyes of the crowd.

Yet, in that moment, the once-spotless bandages were no longer white; they had been transformed into a shocking crimson, stained with her blood—a visceral, deep red that elicited gasps of horror from those who bore witness.

Everyone inhaled sharply, a collective intake of breath that echoed in the charged atmosphere. Everyone, that is, except for Louisa, whose expression remained an inscrutable mask, devoid of any emotion.

With deliberate slowness, she began to unwind the layers of bandages. One layer fell away, then another, until they were completely removed, revealing two deep, jagged gashes that cut almost to the bone. The sight was enough to leave the crowd in stunned silence, many of whom had never laid eyes on such gruesome wounds before.

Socialites who typically fretted over the slightest paper cut now screamed in horror at the sight of her injuries, their delicate constitutions unable to handle the reality before them.

Yet, amidst the chaos, Louisa wore a bright, defiant smile.

She turned her wounds out toward Vivian, toward the entire assembly. “These two scars—this is proof that I would rather shatter like fine jade than endure life as worthless clay! If I had been violated, I would not be standing here today!”

Her fierce declaration, coupled with the stark reality of her wounds, left the crowd in a state of shock.

George, too, was taken aback. His gaze darted from her injuries to the dried blood on his own hands, realization dawning upon him. So that was why—he had inadvertently squeezed her wound earlier, reopening it in a moment of panic.

What had she endured the night before? In that instant, his heart felt as if it were being cleaved open, a torrent of emotions flooding through him.

Vivian, however, was unyielding, her voice rising in disbelief. “I refuse to believe it! Not a single word! Unless you bring forth this person—this so-called guardian angel who saved you—and let him face me directly!”

Louisa’s brow furrowed in confusion, wondering why this woman couldn’t simply accept the truth and move on.

Just then, a deep, cool voice resonated from behind her, cutting through the tension like a knife. “That would be me.”

All eyes turned toward the source of the voice, and there stood Julian, his presence commanding and undeniable. His gaze swept over Vivian with an air of indifference. “What exactly do you wish to confront me about?”

His tone was casual, almost dismissive of the drama unfolding before him, yet the intensity of his presence created a palpable tension in the room.

Vivian had never encountered a man with such an aura of authority. The coldness emanating from him made her tremble, rendering her speechless.

The Price family was equally taken aback. They had assumed that Louisa would be easy to manipulate, a mere nobody. How had Julian become entangled in this mess? His involvement complicated matters significantly.

George shot Julian a hostile glare. The bond between Julian and Louisa appeared to have deepened recently, igniting a flame of jealousy in George’s heart.

The onlookers, captivated by the unfolding scene, exchanged glances filled with curiosity. They had been surprised to see Julian in attendance at all; he was known for his reclusive nature, avoiding public gatherings like the plague.

“Fortunately, Ms. Forbes fought valiantly, buying me enough time to arrive. I reached her just in time—those men did not succeed; Ms. Forbes was not harmed.”

His explanation was thorough, carefully sidestepping any details that might lead to misunderstandings, and he refrained from mentioning that he had been keeping an eye on Vivian. No one dared to question his account.

Yet, a flicker of doubt ignited within Louisa. The Tudor Group owned countless properties—was it truly possible that something as trivial as a reserved floor at a club would be reported to him? Could such a coincidence truly exist?

Before she could delve deeper into her thoughts, Vivian erupted once more, her voice shrill with disbelief. “I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it! You two must be having an aff—”

She was about to utter the word “affair,” but Caden swiftly covered her mouth, as if to shield her from her own reckless words.

How could Vivian dare to utter such accusations? Did she not comprehend Julian’s status? He had personally defended Louisa, yet she had the audacity to spout such nonsense?

The crowd regarded Vivian with expressions that screamed, “You’re digging your own grave.” Offending Julian was no trivial matter; even a coalition of ten Price Groups would struggle to contend with the influence of the Tudor Group.

With Julian’s intervention, everyone anticipated a resolution to this unfolding drama.

Many of the men present, having rarely encountered Julian in person, were eager to approach him, hoping to network or at the very least exchange pleasantries.

But George was quicker. He had no intention of networking; he was there to stake his claim.

Unfazed by Julian’s status, George stepped forward, positioning himself beside Louisa as he faced Julian directly. “Mr. Tudor, thank you for saving my wife.”