Julian found Clara in the library, surrounded by financial reports from the three minor companies Élise had allowed her to oversee. Her eyes were red, and a stack of invoices refused to reconcile.
"Working late again, Clara?" Julian asked, approaching with two cups of tea. "Your dedication is admirable… though it saddens me that you're the only Valmont who seems to truly make an effort."
Clara sighed and shut her laptop in frustration.
"It's my duty, Julian. Mother says I have to prove myself before she entrusts me with more responsibility."
Julian took the seat across from her, adopting the carefully measured expression of restrained disappointment he wielded with surgical precision.
"How curious… I just saw Adrian heading out again with Astrid. He didn't look too concerned about quarterly reports. In fact, I doubt he even remembers where the accounting office is."
Clara's fists tightened.
"He's the heir. The rules are different for him. They always have been. If I came home late even once, Mother would take my car keys and send security to find me. Adrian…" Her voice hardened. "Adrian can disappear for three days and be welcomed back with a banquet."
"A double standard that's hard to ignore," Julian murmured, leaning slightly closer. "You're more consistent. More disciplined. Far more loyal. Yet to them, you're still the 'little sister' who has to ask permission to breathe. Adrian squanders the family fortune on whims and women… while you have to beg for a seat on the board."
He let the silence settle between them.
In the corner of his vision, the system flickered.
[SYSTEM: "Ding! Fraternal resentment detected: Epic Level. Influence Points gained: +800."]
"Sometimes I think I hate him…" Clara whispered, her voice breaking. "I hate that he doesn't have to work for anything. And now that he's back from the hospital, it's even worse… it's like he doesn't even see me."
"He doesn't see you because he takes you for granted, Clara," Julian said softly, taking her hand with a firmness meant to feel brotherly. "But I see you. I see the woman who should be running this empire."
Clara lifted her gaze.
Julian lowered his voice slightly.
"If Adrian keeps living like this, his lifestyle will weaken your family's legacy. Perhaps… someone should start documenting certain lapses. Not out of resentment. Out of responsibility. For the stability of the company… and for your own future."
She watched him in silence.
For the first time, her loyalty to her brother wavered before the promise of justice.
A faint, malicious smile touched Julian's lips as he headed toward the guest room where he was staying.
In the hallway, he saw her.
Meilan was walking toward Adrian's room, silent and elegant as a shadow trained to kill. Julian paused for just a moment. His eyes traced her figure with a mixture of admiration and restrained greed. He wet his lips.
If only he could—
No. Not yet.
He quickened his pace and tried to intercept her, deploying his usual charm—his smooth voice, his calculated gestures. He smiled, hinted, suggested closeness.
He failed.
Meilan passed through him with a cold, impenetrable glance and continued on her way without granting him so much as a pause. Not even hostility.
Just nonexistence.
Julian felt his jaw tighten.
He tried a different approach—subtle insinuations, emotional manipulation disguised as courtesy. Words crafted to slip into invisible cracks.
He failed again.
He watched her disappear behind Adrian's door.
His expression hardened for a single second… then smoothed over. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to regain composure.
He would learn from that mistake.
Just as he had with the mother.
He could not force them.
Not yet.
He turned slowly and resumed his walk toward his room.
"Slowly…" he murmured to himself. "Little by little… everything will be mine."
Julian did not take Clara to a noisy restaurant where they might be seen. He brought her instead to a small private garden he had "prepared" himself—a hidden corner of the city, lit by paper lanterns and perfumed with fresh jasmine. It was the perfect setting for someone who had always lived beneath the glare of her family's spotlight.
"Julian… this is too much," Clara murmured, fidgeting with the hem of her dress, feeling for the first time like the heroine of her own story. "Mother will be furious if she finds out I'm not home for family dinner."
"Clara…" Julian stopped and gently turned her by the shoulders. His gaze resembled a calm ocean of understanding. "Tonight, you are not Élise's daughter. You are not Adrian's sister. Tonight, you are simply Clara. And Clara deserves the world to stop for her… even if only for a few hours."
[SYSTEM: "Ding! 'First Love' effect activated. Target's emotional defenses: 30% and decreasing."]
They sat at an intimate table adorned with white flowers and dishes Julian claimed to have prepared himself—though Meilan would have instantly recognized the signature of an elite catering service.
During dinner, Julian did something Adrian rarely did:
He listened.
"It's impressive how you handle those audits, Clara," he said, leaning slightly toward her, ignoring his own plate. "I've read your reports. You have an analytical mind Adrian would envy… if he weren't so busy admiring his own reflection. It's a shame they've got you reviewing maintenance invoices when you could be designing the group's strategic expansion."
Warmth rose in Clara's chest.
It wasn't the wine.
It was something far more dangerous.
Recognition.
"He says I'm not ready yet…" she whispered.
Julian lowered his voice, as though sharing a forbidden secret.
"Sometimes people delay others not because they doubt their ability… but because they fear losing their place." He paused briefly, studying her reaction. "Adrian has spent his entire life at the center of the Valmont empire. Giving you a real opportunity would mean admitting there could be someone… equally—or even better—prepared."
Clara lowered her eyes.
"I don't think he means harm…" she murmured, though doubt had already taken root.
"Perhaps not," Julian replied with calculated gentleness. "But the consequences are the same."
He reached across the table and brushed her fingers lightly. It wasn't an overtly romantic gesture.
It was something more intimate.
More dangerous.
Julian let his hand slide a little farther, seeking to entwine their fingers with carefully rehearsed ease. Clara noticed at the last instant. Her breath caught, and she pulled her hand back awkwardly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The flush rising to her cheeks was not rejection—it was a sweet confusion that made her lower her gaze, unable to meet Julian's eyes for a few seconds.
A silent promise of alliance.
"If I had someone like you by my side… I wouldn't hide her. I would make the world know exactly who holds the empire together."
[SYSTEM: "Ding! 'First Love Infatuation' achieved. Loyalty Points gained: +1500. Skill unlocked: 'Whisper of Rebellion.'"]
Clara looked at him.
In that moment, Julian stopped being a doctor.
He became her refuge.Her confidant.The only one who seemed to recognize her worth.
"Thank you, Julian," she whispered, her eyes shining. "You're the only one who understands me."
Julian smiled.
But only on the inside.
The trap had closed.
From now on, every time Adrian tried to correct her, guide her… or protect her, Clara would not see a concerned brother.
She would see an oppressor trying to extinguish her light.
Adrian remained seated on the wide sofa in the private lounge. Meilan sat across his lap with practiced ease; when she tried to rise, he slid an arm around her waist and kept her there—firm, effortless, as though any alternative had never existed.
In one hand, he held an untouched cup of tea. In the other, his phone. His attention was not on the call, but on the television in front of them, where the cameras showed Clara smiling beside Julian in the lantern-lit garden.
Too close.
Too trusting.
The silence in the room was thick. Deliberate.
Adrian took a slow sip before speaking into the line, his tone cold and surgical.
"Accelerate the investigation on that man. I want every record, every contact, every lie he's ever told."
He paused briefly as, on-screen, Julian inclined his head toward Clara. Adrian's arm tightened almost imperceptibly around Meilan's waist.
"And note the date of his death."