HIS OWN SISTER PUSHED HIS BRIDE OFF THE ROOFTOP ON THEIR WEDDING DAY! The groom jumped into the pool below to save his wife, but his sister wasn't finished yet. What he did when she attacked them again left everyone speechless!

The clock on the penthouse mantelpiece ticked softly. It was 8:45 PM.

Three hours and fourteen minutes left.

"Get out," Julian said.

He wasn't yelling. That was the most terrifying part. His voice had the flat, hollow tone of an executioner who had just finished checking the ropes.

"Julian—" Evelyn began, stepping forward.

"Get. Out." Julian turned his eyes on his mother. "Take Victoria and get out of this suite before I call the NYPD Commissioner directly and have her arrested for attempted murder in front of every society reporter currently drinking my champagne downstairs."

"You wouldn't dare," Evelyn sneered, though a flicker of genuine fear passed through her eyes. "A scandal of that magnitude would tank Sterling Maritime stock by thirty percent by market open tomorrow morning. You would ruin us all."

"I don't give a damn about the stock, Mother," Julian replied coldly. "You have sixty seconds. If Victoria is still breathing my air in sixty-one seconds, I will personally drag her down to the lobby and hand her to the press."

Victoria glared at Clara with pure poison, but Evelyn grabbed her daughter’s wrist with surprising strength and pulled her toward the double doors. "We are going to the town car, Victoria. Come."

The heavy oak doors clicked shut behind them.

The silence that followed was suffocating. The concierge doctor and his assistant quietly packed their medical bags, exchanged terrified glances, and slipped out through the service entrance, leaving Clara and Julian alone in the vast, echoing suite.

Clara sat back down on the sofa, her hands shaking as she pulled the cashmere blanket tighter around her shoulders. She looked at Julian, who was standing by the window, staring out into the glittering grid of Manhattan below.

"Julian," she whispered.

He didn't turn around immediately. His broad shoulders were rigid, rising and falling with heavy, controlled breaths.

"Did you know?" Clara asked, her voice barely audible. "Did you seek me out because of this trust?"

Julian spun around so fast it startled her. His expression was pained, almost insulted.

"How can you even ask me that, Clara?" he said, crossing the room in three long strides and dropping to his knees in front of her. He took her trembling, bruised hands into his own, pressing his warm palms against her freezing skin. "I met you in Paris because I was hiding from my family. I fell in love with you because you were the only person in my entire godforsaken life who didn't want anything from me. You didn't care about the yachts. You didn't care about the penthouse. You made me eat street crepes at two in the morning while you laughed at my terrible French."

Tears welled in Clara’s eyes. "Then your sister is right. My uncle used me. He set me up like a chess piece to steal your family's company from beyond the grave."

"Arthur Vance was a ruthless corporate lawyer," Julian said softly, using his thumb to wipe away a stray tear from Clara’s cheek. "Maybe he did orchestrate that first meeting. Maybe he left breadcrumbs that led you to that gallery in Paris. But he didn't make me love you. He didn't make you stay by my side when my father killed himself and the press was tearing my life apart."

Julian reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box that had survived the plunge into the pool. He opened it.

Inside rested a simple, unadorned platinum band.

"The clock is ticking, Clara," Julian murmured, looking into her eyes with an intensity that took her breath away. "My sister tried to kill you tonight. My mother enabled her. If we walk away right now, Victoria wins. She gets the company, she covers up this crime, and she spends the rest of her life destroying anyone who gets in her way."

"And if we finish it?" Clara asked, her heart thumping against her bruised ribs.

"If we finish it, by midnight, you and I control the majority vote of Sterling Maritime. We strip Victoria of her executive power. We cut off Mother’s access to the family trust. And we hand the penthouse surveillance footage directly to the District Attorney."

Clara swallowed hard. "What surveillance footage? The St. Regis rooftop cameras?"