Reborn at Eighteen The Billionaire's Second Chance novel Chapter 261

Chapter 261

Elara

“I know so many of you are disappointed in me right now. I’m disappointed in myself too. But I need to be honest about something I’ve been struggling with for a long time. Three years ago, I was diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety disorder. At my lowest point, I became obsessed with Elena Castellano’s work–not just admiring it, but identifying with it so completely that I couldn’t tell where her art ended and mine began. I know this isn’t an excuse. But I want people to understand that depression can make you lose track of reality, can blur the boundaries in your mind. I’m in treatment now and taking full responsibility for my actions. I’ll be stepping back from all exhibitions and competitions to focus on my mental health and my pregnancy. I’m so sorry to Elena’s family and everyone I’ve hurt. I hope you can give me the chance to heal and become better.”

Below the text were images. Medical documents. Diagnostic reports from a psychiatrist dated two years ago. Prescription records for Zoloft and Xanax. Hospital letterhead. Doctor’s signatures. Everything looked official.

I scrolled through the replies. They were already flooding in, the tide turning.

Depression is so hard. I’ve been there. You literally can’t control your thoughts sometimes.

“She’s PREGNANT. Everyone back off before the stress causes a miscarriage.”

‘Mental illness doesn’t excuse plagiarism but it is context. She needs help not harassment.”

Of course there were skeptics too. “Convenient timing.” “Medical records can be faked.” But those voices were getting drowned out.

“She’s playing the mental health card,” Raven said. Her voice was tight with anger. “Turning herself into the victim. And people are eating it up.”

I watched the like count climb. Felt my fingernails dig into my palms. “Yeah,” I said quietly. “She is.”

“We should fight back.” Raven’s fingers were already moving toward her keyboard. “I can find someone to verify if those records are real. My friend works in

medical records at Mount Sinai-

“Don’t.”

Raven’s hands stopped. “What?”

‘Don’t. I closed the laptop. Couldn’t look at Sloane’s carefully worded confession anymore. ‘Even if you prove the records are fake, she’ll just pivot. Say we’re attacking a pregnant woman. That we’re stigmatizing mental illness. That we’re cruel for not giving her a second chance. I looked at Raven. “We can’t win this fight. The game’s rigged.”

“So we just let her get away with it? Raven’s voice rose. A student at the next table shushed us. She lowered her volume but the intensity stayed. After

everything she did to you?”

“The people who matter know the truth. I surprised myself with how calm I sounded when my hands were shaking. Giulia knows. Dr. Sterling knows. RISD knows. And Julian-* I stopped. His name caught in my throat. Julian knows everything now. What people on Twitter think doesn’t change any of that.

Raven studied my face. Her expression shifted from frustration to something softer. ‘You’re really not going to fight her on this.”

I’m going to finish my RISD application. Graduate. Move on.” I pulled up my portfolio files. Sloane can have her sympathy tour. I don’t need to be part of

her story anymore.”

But even as I said it, my nails were cutting crescents into my palms. Because the truth was I wanted to fight. I wanted to expose every lie, every

1/3

2:23 pm pp

Chapter 261

manipulation. I wanted justice that felt like fire in my veins.

I just knew I’d never get it. Not from Twitter. Not from people who’d already decided what they wanted to believe.

“Okay, Raven said finally. She didn’t sound happy about it. “But if she comes after you again-*

Then we deal with it. I opened my portfolio folder. Right now I need help choosing twenty pieces for RISD. Will you help me?‘

Raven’s expression softened. “Yeah. Of course.”

We spent the next hour going through my work. Raven pushed me to include paintings I’d written off as too raw. I pushed back, defending my choices even when I knew she was probably right. We were deep in an argument about whether to include some charcoal sketches when my phone buzzed.

Julian’s name on the screen. My heart did something complicated.

I looked at Raven. She was watching me with knowing eyes. I stood up. “I need to take this.”

She nodded.

I walked out to the hallway and answered. “Hello?”

“Elara. Julian’s voice was low. Controlled. But I could hear something underneath–cold fury that made my skin prickle. “Have you seen Sloane’s post?”

“Yes.”

“I’m coming to get you. Right now.”

“Julian, I don’t think-

“Please. The word cut through my protest. Raw. Urgent. “There are things you need to know. And I need to see you. Make sure you’re okay.”

The vulnerability in his voice cracked something in my chest. “What kind of things?”

‘Not over the phone. I’m twenty minutes from St. Valerius. Meet me at the front entrance.”

Julian-

The line went dead.

I stood there staring at my phone. Julian had sounded different. Not the careful, gentle version he’d been since I told him about Lily. Something harder. More dangerous. The version that reminded me he was still Julian Vane, no matter how much he’d changed.

The black Maserati was already waiting when I walked out of St. Valerius. Atlas stood by the rear door, and I felt my stomach drop even before I saw Julian

inside.

He was on his phone when I slid into the back seat, didn’t look up until Atlas closed the door behind me. Then he set the phone down and met my eyes.

“Thank you for coming.”

‘You didn’t give me much choice,‘ I said. “You hung up before I could answer.”

2/3

2:23 pm pppp.

Chapter 261

Something that might have been a smile crossed his face. “Would you have said yes?”

I didn’t answer. We both knew I wouldn’t have.

Atlas pulled into traffic and I watched the buildings blur past. “Where are we going?”

“Boston. Julian’s voice was calm, controlled. ‘I’ve set up a meeting with the Kennedy family. Three o’clock at their estate.”

My hands clenched around my bag strap. A meeting about what?”

He reached over and covered my hand with his. I didn’t pull away, even though part of me wanted to. His palm was warm against my knuckles.

About Sloane’s future,” he said. “And our engagement.”

The word made my chest tight. I knew what he’d chosen–he’d made that clear when he took those lashes, when he stood beside me at the exhibition. But hearing him say “our engagement” out loud, in the context of a formal meeting with her family, made it real in a way nothing else had.

“What are you planning to do?”

His thumb moved across my knuckles, back and forth. “Trust me. After today, she won’t be between us anymore.”

Comments

1

Write Comments

SHARE

3/3