Reborn at Eighteen The Billionaire's Second Chance novel Chapter 89

Chapter 89

I grabbed the sheet, pulled it up to cover myself. Squinted against the

sudden brightness.

Julian stood silhouetted against the city lights, hands in his pockets.

He’d tucked his shirt back in, finger–combed his hair. Except for a slight flush on his neck, you’d never know what we’d just done.

“Get some sleep,” he said without turning around. “We’ll talk in the

morning.”

“Julian-”

“That’s an order, Elara.”

The authority in his voice made me flinch. Reminded me of every time he’d given commands at Blackwood, every time I’d scra.

obey.

ed to

But I wasn’t that girl anymore. Was I?

“You can’t order me around,” I said, but my voice came out weak.

Uncertain.

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Chapter 89

He finally turned to look at me. The light from outside turned his face

into sharp angles and shadows.

“Can’t I?” A cold smile touched his lips. “You just let me fuck you. I

think we’re past pretending I don’t have power over you.”

The crude word made me flinch.

“That was-” I struggled for words. “That was a mistake. It won’t

happen again.”

“We’ll see.”

“I mean it-”

“So do I.” He crossed back to the bed, loomed over me. “You’re mine now, Elara. Whether you like it or not. What just happened changes everything.”

My heart was racing again, but this time with fear instead of desire.

“You’re insane.”

“Maybe.” He reached out, tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture was almost tender. Almost. “But you’ll learn. You’ll learn to do what I say, when I say it. And if you don’t-”

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Chapter 89

He didn’t finish the threat. Didn’t need to.

I stared up at him, this man I’d loved so desperately for three years,

and saw a stranger.

No. Not a stranger.

Just finally saw him clearly for the first time.

“I hate you,” I whispered.

Something flickered in his eyes. Pain? Regret?

Gone before I could be sure.

“I know,” he said quietly. Then louder, more firmly: “Go to sleep, Elara. That’s not a request.”

He walked to the door.

“Where are you going?” I asked, hating the panic in my voice.

“To get some air. I’ll be back in an hour.” He paused with his hand on

the doorknob. “Don’t try to leave. I’ve told the front desk not to let you out without my permission.”

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Chapter 89

“You can’t do that-

“I just did.” He opened the door. “One hour. Then we finish this

conversation.”

The door closed behind him with a soft click.

I sat there in the tangled sheets, his release drying on my thighs, my body still aching from what we’d done.

And I knew–with horrible, crushing certainty–that nothing would

ever be the same.

I didn’t sleep.

How could I?

I lay in that bed, Julian’s scent surrounding me, my body sore and used, and stared at the ceiling.

Waiting for him to come back.

An hour passed. Then two.

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Chapter 89

The sky outside started to lighten. Dawn crept across the Manhattan

skyline in shades of pink and gold.

Still no Julian.

Maybe he wasn’t coming back. Maybe he’d just left me here, another

conquest, another-

The door opened.

I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest.

Julian entered carrying two coffee cups and a white paper bag. He looked… rumpled. His shirt was wrinkled, tie loosened, hair

disheveled like he’d been running his hands through it.

“You’re still awake,” he observed, setting the coffee and bag. the

nightstand.

I didn’t answer. Just watched him with wary eyes.

He shrugged off his jacket, draped it over a chair. Rolled

up his

sleeves. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to touch me.

“We need to talk about what happens next,” he said.

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Chapter 89

My throat was dry. “There is no next. This was–it was a mistake. We

were both drunk, and-”

“I wasn’t drunk.”

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