Chapter 5 - The Aftermath and the Offer
By sunrise, Julian’s prediction had proven entirely accurate.
The internet was in absolute meltdown. Every major news outlet, gossip blog, and financial journal ran screaming headlines: VANCE HOLDINGS BILLIONAIRE DECLARES WAR AT WINTER GALA, DAMIAN CROSS DESTROYED IN MINUTES, and WHO IS AVA KNOX? THE MYSTERY FIANCÉE WHO CAPTURED JULIAN VANCE'S HEART.
Photos of Julian kneeling on the marble floor to wipe champagne off her shoe, followed by images of him shielding her in his bespoke jacket, were plastered across every screen from Wall Street to Times Square.
Back at her modest, tidy apartment in Astoria, Ava sat at her small kitchen table scrolling through her phone in stunned disbelief. Her notifications were completely fried—missed calls from old college friends, panicked texts from her boss at Bellmere Events apologizing profusely for Damian’s behavior, and thousands of friend requests from strangers.
Then, her phone rang. An unknown, restricted number.
Ava hesitated before swiping to answer. “Hello?”
“Ava.”
Julian’s voice came through the speaker, rich and calm, instantly grounding her racing thoughts.
“Julian,” she exhaled, rubbing her temples. “My phone hasn’t stopped buzzing for four hours. I think half of New York is trying to find where I live right now.”
“I apologize for that,” Julian said, though there was no real remorse in his tone. “My security team is currently managing the press outside your building. No one will bother you.”
“Julian, what are we going to do?” Ava asked, leaning back in her chair. “You announced to the entire elite society of Manhattan that we’re engaged. I’m an event coordinator; you’re… well, you’re Julian Vance! This is insane.”
“It’s only insane if we treat it like a lie,” Julian replied smoothly.
Ava sat up straight. “What does that mean?”
“It means I meant every word I said last night,” Julian said, his voice dropping an octave, turning serious and steady. “Ava, I didn't step into that ballroom on a whim. I’ve watched you from afar for weeks. I know your strength, your resilience, your brilliance. I don't want last night to be a one-night spectacle. I want to take you out on a real date. No cameras, no chaos—just you and me.”
Ava’s breath hitched. Her mind raced back to Damian—to the years of giving everything and receiving nothing in return. The fear of being used, of being discarded, lingered like a ghost in the back of her mind.
Sensing her hesitation, Julian spoke softly.
“You don't have to answer me right now,” he said gently. “Take your time, Ava. But know this: I am not Damian. I will never ask you to empty your savings for me. I will never make you feel small so I can look tall. And if anyone ever tries to hurt you again, they won't just lose an account—they’ll lose everything.”
Ava closed her eyes, a warm tear slipping down her cheek. But this time, it wasn't a tear of pain or humiliation. It was a tear of profound, overwhelming release.
“Okay,” Ava whispered into the phone.
May you like
“Okay?” Julian repeated, a note of quiet hope breaking through his usual cool composure.
“Okay,” Ava smiled, wiping her eye. “Let’s go on a date.”
