Divorced, Now Watch Me Rise!

The Aftermath

CLAIRE

The drive back to Julian's penthouse was silent. I sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window at the city lights blurring past. My hands were folded in my lap, but I couldn't stop them from shaking.

Julian didn't try to make conversation, he just drove, his eyes on the road, his jaw tight. The adrenaline that had carried me through the engagement party was draining away, leaving me hollow and exhausted.

What had I just done? I'd walked into that party on Julian's arm. Let him parade me in front of Ethan and Vanessa. Let him imply we were together... more than together, and now everyone would know.

Everyone would talk. My stomach twisted. The car pulled into an underground parking garage, sleek and modern. Julian parked in a reserved spot near the elevator and turned off the engine.

For a moment, neither of us moved. "You okay?" he asked quietly.

I almost laughed. "No."

He nodded, like he'd expected that answer. "Come on. Let's get you inside."

The penthouse was exactly what I'd expected, high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Expensive furniture that looked like it belonged in a magazine. Everything sleek, modern, cold.

Not like a home, like a showroom. Julian tossed his keys on a glass table near the entrance and shrugged off his jacket.

"You hungry?" he asked.

I shook my head, the thought of food made me nauseous. "Thirsty?"

"No."

He watched me for a moment, his gray eyes unreadable. Then he walked to the bar in the corner and poured himself a drink. Whiskey, from the look of it.

I stood in the middle of the living room, still wearing my heels, still clutching the small purse Julian had given me for the party.nI felt like a stranger in my own skin.

"You can sit down," Julian said, gesturing toward the leather couch.

I sat, perched on the edge, my back straight, my hands still folded in my lap. Julian took a sip of his drink and leaned against the bar, studying me.

"You did well tonight," he said.

"Did I?" My voice came out flat. Empty.

"You didn't fall apart. You didn't give them the satisfaction of seeing you broken." He swirled the whiskey in his glass. "That's a win."

I looked down at the emerald ring on my finger. It felt heavy, foreign.

"Why did you do it?" I asked quietly.

"Do what?"

"Tell them we were together." I looked up at him. "You didn't have to. We could've just shown up, said hello, left, but you pushed. You made it clear we were... something."

Julian took another sip. "Because staying quiet would've made us look weak. Like we were hiding. Ashamed."

"Maybe I am ashamed," I whispered.

"Of what?" His tone sharpened slightly. "You didn't do anything wrong, Claire."

"They think I did." My voice cracked. "Everyone at that party thinks I'm a cheater. That I was sleeping with you while I was married to Ethan, that the photos were real."

"Let them think what they want."

"Easy for you to say." I stood up abruptly, my heels clicking against the hardwood floor. "You're not the one being called a w***e. You're not the one who lost everything."

Julian set his glass down. "You think I haven't lost anything?"

"I don't know what you've lost," I said, my voice rising. "I don't know anything about you, Julian. I don't know why you're really helping me. I don't know what you get out of this. All I know is that I just walked into a room full of people who hate me, wearing your ring, and now I'm standing in your apartment like some kind of..."

I stopped, pressing my hands to my face. Like some kind of what? Trophy? Pawn? Fool?

"Like some kind of what?" Julian asked, his voice calm.

I dropped my hands, tears stinging my eyes. "I don't know. I don't know what I am anymore."

Silence stretched between us, Julian walked over to the couch and sat down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"Sit," he said.

"I don't..."

"Sit, Claire."

I sat, not next to him. In the chair across from him. He watched me for a long moment.

"You want to know what I get out of this?" he asked finally.

"Yes."

"Revenge," he said simply. "Same as you."

"On Ethan?"

"On all of them." His voice was cold. "Ethan. My father. Everyone who's treated me like I don't belong in that family just because my mother married into it."

I studied his face, there was no warmth there, no softness.

"What did they do to you?" I asked quietly.

Julian's jaw tightened. "That's not your concern."

"You're asking me to trust you," I said. "To let you into my life, to marry you, to go to war with you. But you won't tell me why?"

"You don't need to know why," he said. "You just need to know that I want them destroyed as much as you do."

"That's not enough."

"It has to be." He leaned back, his eyes hard. "I'm not asking you to be my friend, Claire. I'm not asking you to like me or trust me or care about my sob story. I'm asking you to let me help you take back what they stole."

"And what if you betray me?" The question came out raw, desperate. "What if this is all just another trap? Another contract that ends with me losing everything again?"

Julian held my gaze. "You want a guarantee?" he asked.

"Yes."

"There isn't one." His voice was brutal in its honesty. "I can't promise I won't hurt you. I can't promise this will end the way you want. All I can promise is that right now, in this moment, we have the same enemy, and that's enough."

I stared at him. "That's all you're offering? A maybe?"

"That's all anyone can offer." He stood up, walking back to the bar. "You think Ethan promised you forever? You think your father promised to protect you? Promises don't mean anything, Claire. Only action does."

He poured himself another drink. I sat there, my mind spinning, he was right. Promises were worthless. Ethan had promised me a partnership. My father had promised me security. Vanessa had pretended to be my sister, and they'd all destroyed me.

"How do I know you need me?" I asked, my voice small. "You said you need me as much as I need you. But how do I know that's true?"

Julian turned to face me. "Because I've been planning this for years, and I can't do it alone. Ethan and my father are too powerful. I need someone on the inside. Someone they underestimated, someone they think is already broken."

"So I'm useful," I said bitterly.

"Yes." He didn't soften it. Didn't try to make it sound better. "You're useful. And I'm useful to you. That's the deal."

I looked down at my hands.

"Why didn't you just say that from the beginning?"

"Would you have believed me?" He walked back toward me, stopping a few feet away. "If I'd walked into your hospital room and said, 'Hey, I'm using you for revenge, want to use me back?' would you have signed that contract?"

I didn't answer, because he was right. I wouldn't have. Julian set his glass on the coffee table and straightened.

"You're exhausted," he said. "And we both need sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

"Why?"

"Because the photos from tonight are probably already online. By morning, everyone will be talking about us." He gestured down the hallway. "Guest room is the second door on the left. Bathroom is attached, there are clothes in the closet that should fit you."

I blinked. "You have women's clothes?"

"I had my assistant buy them this afternoon. Various sizes." He shrugged. "I assumed you'd be staying here after the party."

Of course he did.nHe'd planned everything. I stood up slowly, my legs feeling like lead.

"What happens tomorrow?" I asked.

"Tomorrow, we control the narrative," Julian said. "We make sure the story they're telling isn't the one that sticks."

I nodded, even though I didn't fully understand. I walked toward the hallway, then stopped.

"Julian?"

He looked at me. "How do I know you won't betray me too?"

He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "You don't. But right now, I need you alive, powerful, and angry. Betraying you would ruin my plans. So as long as our goals align, you're safe."

It wasn't a comforting answer, but it was an honest one, and maybe that was all I could ask for.

"Goodnight, Claire," he said.

"Goodnight."

***

The guest room was beautiful, pale gray walls, a king-sized bed with white linens. Another floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city. I walked to the closet and opened it.

Rows of clothes, dresses, pants, blouses. All in different sizes, just like Julian said. All expensive. All new, tags still attached.

I pulled out a simple T-shirt and pajama pants and changed quickly, peeling off the black dress and heels that suddenly felt like a costume. I washed my face in the pristine white bathroom, scrubbing off the makeup until I looked like myself again. Pale, tired and lost.

I climbed into the bed and turned off the lamp. The room fell into darkness, broken only by the glow of the city lights outside. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing. I'd done it.

I'd confronted them, stood in front of Ethan and Vanessa and didn't fall apart. But now what? I turned onto my side, pulling the blanket up to my chin.

Julian's words echoed in my head.

"I need you as much as you need me. That's the only guarantee you'll get."

It wasn't love, it wasn't friendship, it wasn't even trust. It was survival. I looked at the emerald ring still on my finger, glowing faintly in the dim light. Freedom or another chain?

I didn't know yet, but tomorrow, I'd start finding out. I closed my eyes, and for the first time in days, I didn't cry myself to sleep. I just lay there in the dark.