Fast close. Funds available by Monday morning. Julian smiled, a slow, cruel smile. God, I love greedy people.
They smell blood and they come running. What are the terms? Cole asked. Who cares?
Julian laughed, grabbing his jacket. We're going to refinance it in a month anyway once I sell the land. Set up the meeting. I want to meet the head of this Vanguard Shadow.
They requested a meeting tonight. The secretary said at the Blackwood Gala. Julian paused. The Blackwood Gala was the most exclusive event of the season.
Only the inner circle was invited. If this new firm had a table there, they were real players. Perfect. Julian adjusted his tie in the reflection of the window.
I'll charm them, take their money, and bury this mess. And as for that waitress, she's probably scanning want ads right now. He didn't know that the waitress was currently sitting in a stylist's chair three blocks away, having diamonds draped around her neck that cost more than his car. The Blackwood Gala, 8:00 p.m. The ballroom of the Ritz-Carlton was transformed into a winter garden, white roses, ice sculptures, and a string quartet playing Mozart.
The room was filled with the 1% of the 1%. Men in tuxedos, women in couture gowns. Julian Thorne entered with Chloe on his arm. He looked regal.
He moved through the crowd, shaking hands, flashing his white teeth, pretending he wasn't technically insolvent. Julian, a voice called out. It was a competitor, an older man named Sterling. Julian stiffened.
He hated Marcus Sterling. Sterling was the old guard, moralistic, boring, and rich. Marcus. Julian nodded curtly.
Enjoying the party immensely? Marcus smiled. I heard you're closing the Kensington deal. Bold move.
Fortune favors the bold. Julian said aggressively. Something you forgot years ago. Marcus.
Perhaps. Marcus chuckled. By the way, have you met my new partner? She runs our special situations fund, Vanguard Shadow.
Julian's heart skipped a beat. This was it. The lenders. I haven't, Julian said, straightening up.
I'm looking forward to doing business with her. She's right over there. Marcus gestured toward the balcony doors. She's been dying to talk to you.
She says you've met before. Julian frowned. Met before? He walked toward the balcony.
The air was cooler here. A woman was standing with her back to him, looking out at the night sky. She was wearing a backless emerald green gown that shimmered like liquid money. Her hair was pinned up in an intricate, elegant style.
Ms. Julian started putting on his charm. I'm Julian Thorne. I believe we have a deal to discuss. The woman turned around slowly.
Julian stopped. The world seemed to tilt on its axis. It was her, but it wasn't her. The face was the same.
The high cheekbones, the dark, intelligent eyes, but the waitress from The Obsidian was gone. In her place was a queen. She radiated power. The diamonds at her throat caught the light, and her posture was one of absolute command.
"Hello, Julian," Elena said. Her voice was smooth cultured and devoid of the subservience she had feigned the night before. "Elena," Julian choked out. He looked around, checking if this was a joke.
"What are you doing here? How did you get in? Did you sneak in to beg for your job back?" He laughed nervously. "Security?
I need security." "Lower your voice," Elena said. She didn't shout, but the command was so absolute that Julian's mouth snapped shut. "You're not speaking to a waitress tonight, Julian. You're speaking to the managing partner of Vanguard Shadow." Julian stared at her.
His brain couldn't compute it. You You're the lender. I am. Elena stepped closer, the heels of her Louboutins clicking on the stone floor.
And I have the contract right here. She lifted a document folder from the stone railing. $150 million, Elena said. Wire transfer ready to go. You get your Kensington Steel.
You save your reputation. You save your quarterly report. Julian looked at the folder, then at her. He was reeling.
You were playing me at the restaurant. I was observing you, Elena corrected. I wanted to see if the rumors were true. If Julian Thorne was really as arrogant and careless as they said.
You exceeded expectations. Why would you lend me money? Julian narrowed his eyes. You hate me.
I fired you. Business is business. Elena shrugged, channeling the coldness he had displayed the night before. You need money.
I have money. The interest rate is 15%. I stand to make a healthy profit from your desperation. Isn't that what you told me?
Efficiency looks like cruelty to those who don't understand the endgame. She quoted his own words back to him. It was a master stroke. It appealed to his greed.
He thought she was like him, a mercenary. He could understand a mercenary. He couldn't understand a victim. 15% is robbery.
Julian grunted, but he reached for the folder. "Take it or leave it," Elena said. "The market's open in 12 hours. Without this cash, you're in breach of contract on the acquisition." Julian hesitated.