Reborn at Eighteen The Billionaire's Second Chance novel Chapter 223

Chapter 223

Elara

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The silence that followed was deafening. I stared up at Julian, my mind struggling to process what had just happened, what he’d just done. He’d chosen. In front of the detective, in front of Ethan, in front of Sloane herself–he’d chosen me.”

Sloane’s face cycled through shock, hurt, disbelief, and finally settled on something cold and calculating. “You can’t, she whispered, but her voice was already hardening. “Julian, you can’t just-

“I can,” he said simply. “And I am.”

She stood then, one hand pressed to her stomach, her whole body trembling with what might have been rage or grief or some volatile mixture of both. “After everything we’ve been through? After I’m carrying your child? You’re going to throw that all away for- She looked at me, and the contempt in her eyes was finally, blessedly, honest. “For her?”

“Yes,” Julian said, and the single syllable was like a door closing on one future and opening onto another. “For her.”

Ethan exploded. “You bastard,” he snarled, surging to his feet with such violence that his chair toppled backward. “You absolute–how can you abandon a

pregnant woman for-

He didn’t get to finish. Julian had turned toward him, still holding my hand, and the look on his face was colder than I’d ever seen it. “Mr. Holt, I suggest

you remember where you are and who you’re speaking to.”

But Ethan was beyond caring about consequences. His face was flushed with fury, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, and when he spoke, his voice

shook with barely controlled rage. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to humiliate her like this, to throw away a pregnant fiancée like she’s–like she’s

nothing-

He took a step toward Julian, and I saw it happen almost in slow motion–saw the moment when anger overrode judgment, when emotional investment

eclipsed professional distance. His fist came up fast, catching Julian on the side of the face with enough force to snap his head to the side.

Julian staggered slightly, releasing my hand to steady himself against the table. Blood appeared at the corner of his mouth, a thin red line against pale skin.

‘Holt!‘ Detective Brown was on his feet immediately. “Stand down!”

But Ethan wasn’t listening. He was breathing hard, staring at his own fist like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just done, and when he spoke, his voice

was ragged. “You think you can just–just decide people’s lives like you’re moving pieces on a chessboard? She’s pregnant with your child, Julian. Your child.

And you’re going to humiliate her in front of-

He didn’t see the return punch coming. Julian moved with brutal efficiency, his fist connecting with Ethan’s abdomen hard enough to double him over. Before Ethan could recover, Julian had him by the collar, slamming him back against the glass wall with enough force to rattle the entire partition.

‘I’ll take your punch, Julian said, his voice deadly calm despite the blood on his lip, ‘Consider it payment for breaking Sloane’s heart. But this-

He punctuated the word with another precise blow to Ethan’s face that sent blood streaming from the other man’s nose. “This is for every time you’ve circled

around her like a vulture, waiting for your chance. For every article you’ve written with her photo attached. For every social media post where you’ve tagged yourself in her life story.”

He released Ethan, who slumped against the wall, one hand pressed to his bleeding nose, Julian stepped back, calmly straightening his cuffs, wiping the

blood from his own mouth with the back of his hand.

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10:22 am pppp.

Chapter 223

“I’ve tolerated your obsession because it suited Sloane to have you as an ally,‘ he continued, his voice conversational now, almost pleasant. But I’ve seen every one of your little maneuvers. That essay in Art Observer where you called her your muse. The gallery opening where you introduced yourself as her close family friend‘ to that curator from MoMA. The Instagram comments that always seemed just a touch too intimate for a professional relationship.”

Julian’s smile was cold enough to frost glass. “You’ve been in love with my fiancée–excuse me, my ex–fiancée–for years. And you thought if you made yourself indispensable enough, if you defended her publicly enough, if you attacked her enemies viciously enough, she might finally notice you as something other than a useful tool.

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