Reborn at Eighteen The Billionaire's Second Chance novel Chapter 219

Chapter 219

Elara

23

“Furthermore, Julian continued, his tone never wavering, “I arranged for my legal team to be present during the entire evidence collection and transfer process. Every step of the chain of custody was documented and witnessed by multiple parties, including an independent

forensic specialist. No one could alter or destroy those recordings after the fact.”

Sloane’s hand trembled as she lifted her water glass. I saw the exact moment the full implications hit her–that night, while she’d been in the hospital, while the doctors checked on the baby, while Julian had stood by her bedside promising to handle everything, he’d been on the phone with police, locking down the evidence.

He hadn’t trusted her. Even then, he’d already chosen to protect the truth over protecting her.

Her eyes filled with tears, and this time I knew they were real–not manipulation, but genuine shock and betrayal.

Julian,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You started saving the video last night? While I was still in the hospital? But why? Everyone saw that it was Ella who pushed me.”

She stood slowly, one hand pressed to her stomach, trembling. “The doctors were saying I might lose the baby. That was when you were supposed to be taking care of me, worrying about me and our child. And instead-” Her voice cracked with genuine emotion. “Instead, you were collecting evidence?”

“You’re twisting this, Sloane,” Julian said quietly. “I wasn’t collecting evidence against you. I was preserving evidence to establish the

truth.

“The truth?” Her laugh was brittle, edged with hysteria. “The truth is that I’m your fiancée. I’m carrying your child. We’ve been together for years, and I’ve never given you a single reason to doubt me.”

She turned to face him fully, tears streaming down her face. “So when did it start, Julian? When did you decide I was capable of attempted murder? Was it the first day we met? Or was it the moment she came back into your life?”

Her hand shot out, pointing at me with trembling fingers. “Because that’s what this is really about. You chose to protect her over me. You chose to believe her over me. Your fiancée. The mother of your child.”

Ethan rose from his seat, his face flushed. “Julian, this is unconscionable! Sloane nearly died trying to save that girl, and your first reaction was to build a legal case? You’re supposed to love her!”

“Enough, Julian said, but Ethan kept going.

“Someone needs to say this! You’re so obsessed with protecting your mistress that you’re willing to throw the woman carrying your child

under the bus!”

Julian’s response was quiet, almost conversational, which somehow made it more terrifying. ‘Sit. Down.”

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1729 1600, Mar 30

Caper 279

tu wa bondatering fie rounded on me, his face twisted with contempt. And you, Elara Vance. You’re not just destroying ww destroying a family. A child’s future

he took a weg due to my wheelchair. The Vane family took you in out of charity after your father died. And how did you repay them? by seducing up. By manipulating him. You’re nothing but the daughter of a dead housekeeper who-”

juliac moved so fast almost didn’t see it. One moment he was by the window, the next he was directly in front of Ethan, close enough that fitted had to sit his head track to meet his eyes. The height difference–Julian had at least three inches on him–made the sxandontation arad and ascetal.

“Ehao,” juttat said, his voice low and controlled and absolutely lethal. “I’m going to say this once. You can question my judgment. You cap question my decisions. You can even question my relationship with Sloane.”

He beater is slightly, and Ethan actually stepped back. “But you do not get to insult Elara. You do not get to speak about her like she’s pore manipulator. Do we understand each other?”

Ether’s face flushed red. “You don’t know what happened! You’re just taking her word because-*

Because I’m what?‘ Julian’s voice dropped even lower, taking on a quality that made my blood run cold. “Choose your next words very

Karafily

Elker’s kravado faltered, but he pushed on. I’m just saying that you’re not thinking clearly. That you’re letting your guilt cloud your-*

I’m going to make something very clear to you,” Julian interrupted, his tone almost conversational now. “Since you seem confused about

the power dynamics in this room.”

He paused, and in that pause I could feel the weight of generations of Vane family influence.

“I am Julian Vane, he said quietly. “And you, Ethan, are an art critic. A well–respected one, certainly. But ultimately, just a critic.”

Ethan’s face paled.

“My family owns the building where your magazine has its offices,” Julian continued. “We’re the primary investor in your parent company. We have financial relationships with virtually every major arts institution in this city.”

He let that sink in before adding, “So if you want to know who I think I am, the answer is simple: I’m the person who could make one phone call and have your editor explaining to the board why they’re about to lose a ten–million–dollar annual grant. All because one of their critics couldn’t control his mouth.”

The silence was absolute, Ethan stood frozen, hands clenched into fists, his whole body rigid with impotent rage.

Julian’s voice dropped to just above a whisper. “If you ever speak about Elara like that again–if you ever imply she’s anything other than a victim in this situation–I won’t just ruin your career. I’ll make sure you never work in the arts again. Period.”

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Chapter 210

$ban’s jaw worked, his face a mask of barely controlled fury. But after a long moment, he gave a single jerky cod and sank back gate his chair, hand shaking as he gripped the armrests. He kept his eyes fixed on the table and didn’t say araber word.

I booked across at Sloane and saw her face had gone ashen. She was staring at Julian like she’d never seen him before, like the mad standing there was a stranger. Because the Julian who’d just systematically destroyed Ethan’s sense of security with cold precision that wasn’t the gentle, devoted fance she thought she knew.

That was Julian Vane when someone threatened what he’d decided to protect. And for the first time in three years, that something wase!

het.

Julian turned to Detective Brown. “Please go on.”