Five Years a Secret, Now I Deny We Ever Met Chapter 10

Five Years a Secret, Now I Deny We Ever Met Chapter 10

I was left standing there, watching helplessly as Professor Albright, like a victorious general, paraded her “trophy”—Julian—back into the party’s center of power.

I didn’t even have time to feel embarrassed. A strange anticipation, mixed with the thrill of revenge, seized me. I picked up a glass of champagne and slowly followed, as if preparing to enjoy the show.

Sure enough, when I returned to the hall, the professor was already treating Julian like a medal of honor, showing off her “new discovery” to several trustees. Among them was Sebastian’s mother, the eternally elegant and proper hostess.

“Yes, the Julian Foundation has committed to fully funding Chloe’s independent research project in Florence,” Professor Albright announced. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough for everyone nearby to hear. “The top student in our art history department deserves nothing less.”

After she finished, she cast a pointed glance at Sebastian’s mother, raised her eyebrows slightly, and added, “After all, the future of the talent Auden cultivates is worth no less than any business merger.”

The sentence was a poisoned needle, piercing the party’s paper-thin peace with perfect precision.

Not far away, Sebastian’s face turned black. The knuckles of the hand gripping his wineglass went white. Those blue eyes that had looked at me so gently countless times now blazed with an anger and jealousy he couldn’t hide.

Isabella sensed the shift in the air and hurriedly took a friend’s hand, deliberately raising her voice. “…So we’re still deciding between a honeymoon in Greece or the Maldives. Do you have any suggestions?”

No one answered her.

The rest of the party was a silent torture. Sebastian said almost nothing, his face a cold mask. His eyes seemed to be on a radar lock, fixed firmly on Julian and me. I could feel his aggressive stare, as if he wanted to burn two holes through my back.

But I acted as though I didn’t see him. I didn’t even spare him a glance.

Julian, for his part, played his role to perfection. He graciously introduced me to the dean of the School of Arts, then chatted with several trustees about the future of technology in the digital preservation of classical art. He was the perfect gentleman, framing me as a rising academic star with a boundless future.

At last, the party dragged to a close.

Using the excuse of retrieving a forgotten shawl, I prepared to leave the suffocating battlefield for good.

Then a dark figure appeared in the doorway like a ghost.

Sebastian seized my wrist, his grip so hard it felt like he might crush my bones. Without a word, he dragged me into the empty study next door and locked the heavy wooden door behind us with a click.

In the dim light, the polished mask he always wore had shattered, leaving only twisted fury.

“Chloe,” he forced my name through his teeth, his voice hoarse and dangerous. “What the hell is going on between you and Julian?”