Marrying the Racer Instead

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Except for crossing that final, absolute line, Julian and I had played every intimate, dangerous game in the book. Yet, he refused to even give me the title of his public girlfriend.

We grew up together. We're more like siblings.

Do siblings kiss? My nails dug so hard into my palms I almost broke the skin.

Julian just stared at me. His eyes were dead, stripping me down like I was nothing more than a clingy, irrational monster.

"In this day and age, it doesn't really matter who you marry. It's all the same."

That sentence tattooed itself onto my brain for a very long time.

Much later, I shoved those exact words right back down his throat.

His grip tightened on my wrist, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "If it's all the same no matter who you marry, then why the hell can't it be me?"

I looked down at him, a cold, mocking smirk twisting my lips. "Julian, used rags belong in the trash. I don't recycle garbage."

Chapter 1

At my twentieth birthday party, while the adults were mingling out in the living room, I was trapped deep in the shadows of the private home theater sofa by Julian, his hands gripping my waist with an intoxicating, territorial possessiveness.

Even through the thin tulle of my dress, the blistering heat of his palms seeped straight into my skin, sending a sharp shiver down my spine. I gripped the remote control until my knuckles turned white, my breathing turning shallow as I shot him a frantic, warning glance toward the door.

Julian wasn't fazed in the slightest. His gaze dropped to my mouth, his pupils dilated so wide his eyes looked entirely black. He leaned in, the raw heat of his breath brushing my lips right before he captured them, swallowing my weak protests with a deep, consuming kiss that wrecked my breathing rhythm.

When he finally pulled back, a low, rough exhale scraped from his throat. His forehead rested heavily against mine.

"Celine, we're adults now."

I swallowed hard, the sound deafening in the quiet room. I knew exactly what that underlying hunger meant.

Ever since I turned eighteen, Julian and I had exploded into arguments over this exact boundary more times than I could count; I refused to let him claim me while withholding a formal, public commitment.

I chewed on my bottom lip, weighing my words carefully before whispering, "Then let's go public. I'm twenty now You could finally put that promise ring on my finger."

To be brutally honest with myself, I'd been dying to make us official for years, to finally let my mom know that Julian and I were so much more than just childhood friends. But Julian had always smoothly shut it down, claiming he didn't want our families meddling in our private business.

Now, hearing my suggestion, the burning desire in Julian's dark eyes evaporated like a bucket of ice water had just been dumped over him.

"Celine, you're still young."

I swallowed hard. I managed a weak, "But"

"I'm going to go check if your mom needs help in the kitchen." Julian flashed a practiced, tight smile, immediately pushing off the sofa and striding out the door without looking back.

I sat there frozen in the dark, only snapping out of my daze when my mom called my name from the dining room.

Later, as I passed a platter of appetizers, my mom caught a glimpse of me and frowned. "What on earth happened to your lipstick?"

The air around the dinner table thickened instantly.

I instinctively shot a desperate look at Julian, practically begging him to step up and say somethinganythingbut he kept his eyes deliberately glued to his plate.

I used to romanticize the secrecy of our relationship, tricking myself into believing that this hidden intimacy, known only to the two of us, was some sort of exclusive, forbidden thrill. But watching him flawlessly play the role of the aloof family friend today felt like swallowing a mouthful of ash.

After the torturous dinner finally ended, Julian must have noticed my plummeting mood, because he dragged me out to the riverside walk.

"You mad at me?" Julian asked, his voice adopting that infuriatingly soft, coaxing tone.

I tilted my head up to glare at him, a sudden wave of pathetic grievance tight in my throat.

Julian just took a deep breath, an arrogant smirk playing on his lips, and pointed toward the horizon. I followed his gaze. Three seconds later, the dark sky exploded with a massive, disgustingly extravagant fireworks display.

While I was distracted, Julian slipped behind me, his fingers brushing the nape of my neck as he fastened a diamond heart pendant around my throat. He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear.

"Happy birthday."

Just like that, my defenses crumbled into dust. I let him ruffle my hair like I was his favorite pet.

"Not mad anymore?" he teased, his tone dripping with indulgent confidence.

I stared down at the glittering heart resting against my collarbone, hating myself for the fact that the second he threw me a crumb of affection, I instantly forgave him.

That night was a picture-perfect illusion. Because the very next day, Julian triggered a relentless, agonizing ghosting phase, reducing his texts to dead-end, one-word replies: Yeah. Okay. Busy.

Without even realizing it, checking my screen for his name turned into a toxic, obsessive habit, but every time I swiped open my phone, I was met with nothing.

[ Me: Still busy? ]

[ Julian: Do college sophomores really have this much time to kill? ]

My lungs seized like I'd just been punched in the chest.

My thumbs hovered frantically over the keyboard, trying to type a breezy comeback, but before I could, the message vanished from the screen. He unsent it.

[ Julian: Yeah. ]

Out of pure, stubborn self-preservation, I locked my phone and refused to initiate contact again, plunging us right back into our toxic, annual cold war.

Weeks bled into one another. Summer break came to a miserable end, and our text thread remained eternally frozen on that one, dismissive Yeah.

My roommates at the dorm easily picked up on my zombie-like state. They dragged me out for late-night pizza runs and aimless drives, desperately trying to hype me up, but I felt like a deflated balloon. Absolutely nothing sparked my interest.

I stared into my greasy slice of pepperoni, finally voicing the question that had been eating me alive. "Is there something wrong with me?"

Brooke didn't even hesitate. "Girl, if he was actually crazy about you, he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself. Period."

Did Julian love me? If he didn't, why the hell did he kiss me like he wanted to devour my soul? Why did he light up the entire skyline just for my birthday?

I aggressively replayed every tiny crumb of our shared history, desperately trying to construct a solid case for his love in my head. But every time I flashed back to him actively dodging my eyes at the dinner table, my chest tightened so hard I could barely breathe.

Chapter 2

Weeks dragged into months, and I counted down the agonizing days until the winter holidays.

Julian was two years older than me. That stupid age gap meant we never truly shared the same campus life, but the holidays always forced our orbits back into alignment.

[ Me: I'm waiting by the front door. ]

I debated for a second before hitting send to Julian's mom.

[ Julian's Mom: Be right there, sweetie. ]

Heavy snow was already sticking to the driveway. I stood shivering on the porch, my teeth chattering in the freezing wind, but my eyes stayed glued to the end of the street.

"Celine!" His mom's cheerful voice rang out.

I hurried down the steps to meet her, my eyes instantly darting to the interior of her SUV as she stepped out. It was completely empty.

"Where's where's Julian?"

"Oh, him. He's catching up with an old classmate down at the intersection."

The deafening, aggressive roar of a sports car engine ripped through the street corner. It was Julian's ridiculously flashy, custom-built ride.

The intersection?

I couldn't wait another second to see him. I threw a hasty excuse at his mom and sprinted down the icy sidewalk.

Thick snowflakes tangled in my eyelashes and plastered my bangs to my forehead. Panicking that I looked like a wet rat, I fumbled in my coat pocket for my compact mirror to fix my hair.

Through the swirling snow, the little mirror caught a reflection. Julian. And standing right next to him, a girl with flawless, cascading waves.

"It's been forever. I actually missed you."

"Missed me? Yeah, right." Julian's voice was loose, laced with a genuine, effortless amusement I hadn't heard in months. His entire focus was magnetized to her.

I crept a few steps closer, the crunch of snow beneath my boots masked by the howling wind.

Victoria. She was two years ahead of me, Julian's former high school classmate. They used to completely dominate the AP classes, always competing for the valedictorian spot. Back then, every time I went to find Julian by his locker, she was always there, invading his personal space under the guise of discussing some impossible physics problem.

"I'm just messing with you," Victoria laughed, a bright, chiming sound. "So, where's your little shadow? You two aren't married yet?"

Julian let out a sharp, dismissive scoff. "That's a hell of a joke. Why would I ever marry her?"

Victoria paused. Her gaze flicked over Julian's shoulder and landed dead on me. A flash of somethingmockery masked as surprisecrossed her face before she looked back at him.

"Really? With the way you used to fiercely guard her back then, I thought you were terrified someone else would snatch her up."

"She's just a little sister to me." Julian laughed again, a careless, hollow sound.

The freezing wind slashed across my face. My fingernails bit into my palms, drawing blood. Every breath I drew was pure, razor-sharp ice.

"A sister?" Victoria's eyes gleamed with toxic amusement as she threw a sidelong smirk in my direction. The sheer, unadulterated pity in that look made my stomach violently churn.

I forced my frozen legs to move, desperately needing to escape, when a loud, obnoxious ringtone erupted from my pocket.

Julian snapped his head toward the sound. Our eyes locked.

The world instantly flatlined.

The swirling snow, the flickering streetlightseverything vanished into a suffocating vacuum. I stared at his sharp jawline and arrogant brow, a face I had memorized over twenty agonizing years. I was staring at a stranger.

Back inside the house.

The dining table was loaded with an extravagant holiday feast, but neither Julian nor I touched our plates. The silence between us was heavy and suffocating, completely drowned out by our mothers chatting enthusiastically across the table.

"Sweetie, here, open your late birthday present. Things at the company were just so chaotic last time, I didn't get the chance to give it to you." His mom smiled warmly, sliding a sleek, velvet-wrapped box across the table.

I forced my stiff facial muscles into a polite smile and reached out.

Before my fingertips could even brush the velvet, Julian abruptly shoved his chair back. His hand slammed down on top of the box, pinning it to the table.

"What's wrong?" His mom blinked up at him, thoroughly confused.

Julian's jaw locked tight. His eyes fiercely avoided mine as he muttered, "This brand isn't right for Celine."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. You just bought Victoria a gift from this exact same designer. The two of them are practically the same age." His mom laughed, entirely oblivious to the nuclear bomb she just dropped.

Victoria.

The name buzzed in my ears like television static. I went numb as my fingers gripped the edge of the box. Through the thick velvet, I felt the immediate, aggressive resistance of Julian's grip bearing down.

His mom finally lost her patience and smacked the back of Julian's hand. "What on earth is wrong with you tonight? Let it go!"

Julian's throat worked as if he was choking on his own words, but he finally yanked his hand away.

A sharp, phantom needle pierced straight through my chest. I stared at his sickeningly guilty expression, completely disgusted by his hesitation, and ripped the ribbon off the box.

Inside sat an obscenely expensive, exclusive line of European skincare.

Chapter 3

Except.

There was a promotional gift tucked inside the box. A diamond heart pendant.

The exact same one currently hidden under the high collar of my sweater.

I stared down at the jewelry, my fingers moving mechanically as I picked it up. I stared through the small loop of the chain, my vision tunneling straight toward Julian.

His face was an unreadable, suffocating mask of heavy tension, yet beneath it, a sickening trace of relief seemed to bleed through.

In that hallucinatory moment, the corners of my mouth jerked into a stiff, terrifying smile.

I felt a wave of gratitude for the freezing winter weather. I was wearing so many layers that no one could see the identical leash he had already fastened around my neck.

I crushed the pendant inside my fist, letting the sharp diamond edges ruthlessly grind into my palm. I forced the surging panic down into the pit of my stomach.

"Do you like it, Celine?" His mom's gentle voice sliced through the silence.

I clamped my lips shut, desperately trying to drag a lungful of air into my chest. The dam instantly broke. My nose burned with a sharp, agonizing acidity. A broken, half-sobbing laugh ripped from my throat.

"I love it!"

"I love it."

"I absolutely love it"

I stared dead into Julian's eyes, repeating it like a cracked record until the thick, unnatural atmosphere finally caught both of our mothers' attention.

"Celine, sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"I've got this. I'll take care of it." Julian lunged forward, his hand snapping out to drag me away from the table.

I flinched violently, dodging his touch.

"Celine, did Julian do something to you?" His mom's voice sharpened, finally catching on to the disaster unfolding in front of her.

Julian cursed under his breath. He brutally grabbed my wrist, his iron grip nearly crushing my bones, and roughly dragged me toward the bedroom, slamming the door shut with a deafening crash.

Inside the bedroom.

He didn't just shut the door; he locked the deadbolt.

I don't know how long I stood there, utterly numb.

Eventually, Julian closed the distance between us. He dropped to one knee, tilting his head up to look at me.

"The necklace. I grabbed the wrong box."

"The wrong box?"

I stared down at the heavy teardrops exploding against the back of my hand. Two hollow, dead laughs tore from my chest. I felt entirely hollowed out, nothing left but a shell as I looked down at him through my tears.

"Really?"

Julian just stared back at me, a heavy, exhausted sigh escaping his lips.

"Grabbing the wrong necklace was my mistake. I apologize. Victoria and I have a lot of corporate crossover at work"

"Julian, what exactly are we?"

My fist clamped so hard around the pendant my knuckles turned pure white. My voice was dangerously low.

I locked eyes with him, an agonizing, suffocating stare, waiting for him to just spit it out.

Was answering one simple question really that damn impossible?

Julian's brows snapped together. "Whatever you want us to be, that's what we are."

"Are we a couple?"

I choked back the agonizing lump in my throat, forcing the words out. "I just need a yes or a no."

Julian looked up at me like I was a brainless, irrational child throwing a tantrum. Against his judgmental, condescending glare, I didn't flinch. I just stared right back.

Finally, a flicker of evasion crossed his eyes. He forced the word out like he was passing a kidney stone. "Yes."

The second the word left his mouth, he let out a massive sigh, fully convinced he had successfully managed the crisis. He stood up and immediately reached out to pull me into his chest.

I shoved my hands violently against his solid chest, pushing him back. "Then we go public."

The muscles in his jaw instantly locked tight.

I yanked my phone out of my pocket, pulled up the alumni group chat, found Victoria's contact, and shoved the screen right into his chest.

"Call her and tell her. Or go out there and tell our parents. Pick one."

"Celine, stop acting like a psycho. We agreed we wouldn't go public."

His entire face hardened into an unrecognizable mask of fury.

Seeing him completely paralyzed at the thought of calling her, I snatched the phone back and hit dial myself.

Julian ripped the phone out of my hand and hurled it across the room.

A sharp, explosive crack.

The sharp sound of the screen shattering against the hardwood floor.

I violently flinched, my entire body trembling.

Julian towered over me, a terrifying anger radiating off him.

"Celine, are you completely insane? Are you done? We grew up together. We're practically siblings. Do you not get that?"

The air in the room instantly died.

I stared up at him, incapable of processing that those words had just vomited out of his mouth.

"Do siblings kiss? Do siblings try to drag each other into bed? That's the ultimate line, meant only for when you're married"

The words ripped from my throat, completely mangled by my own choking sobs.

"Who the hell told you you have to be married to do that?"

Julian glared down at me. His eyes were dead, stripping me down like I was nothing more than a clingy, irrational monster.

"Are you just desperate to force me into marrying you?"

""

Chapter 4

I froze, completely stunned.

"Celine, you're just too uptight. You refuse to even try anything unless there's some guaranteed end result. I thought going to college would finally loosen you up, but you act like you walked straight out of the Puritan era. You've literally read yourself stupid."

Julian shot me a sidelong glance. His tone shifted, adopting that sickeningly patronizing, lecturing cadence. "In this day and age, it doesn't really matter who you marry. It's all the same."

I tilted my head up, staring straight at him. "It's all the same?"

Julian's dead silence gave me the exact answer I needed.

I stared at this arrogant bastard. Without hesitation, I grabbed the thin metal chain around my throat and ripped it off. The metal sliced into my skin, drawing a sharp sting of blood. I hurled that cheap, bloody heart pendant directly into his arrogant face.

"Celine!"

"Keep it." I forced a cold, empty smile onto my lips. "We are done. Right here, right now."

Julian's composed mask instantly shattered. The muscles in his face twisted violently, his chest heaving with erratic, heavy breaths. "Celine, do you have any goddamn idea what you're saying right now?"

I just stood there, holding my ground with absolute, icy detachment.

The grind of Julian's teeth echoed in the silent room. He spun around, storming toward the door. "Fine. We're done. I've been dying to say that for a long time anyway."

"Take your trash with you." I ordered, my voice dangerously low.

Julian's jaw locked. He snatched the bloody pendant off the floor and, locking his furious, dead eyes onto mine, deliberately dropped it straight into the trash can.

A cheap heart. A tiny smear of my own blood.

The harsh bedroom light illuminated the trash can perfectly, but my vision rapidly dissolved into a distorted, watery blur.

A sudden knock echoed from the hallway.

Julian stopped at the door. His hand gripped the doorknob tightly as he threw one last, calculating look over his shoulder. It was a blatant threat masquerading as a reminder. "You know exactly how close our mothers are. Running your mouth about this will only destroy their friendship."

I stared at his back.

A freezing realization washed over meI had never known the real Julian. The gentle, protective boy I grew up with rotted away into a repulsive stranger.

The click of the lock sounded like a gunshot as he walked out.

I was the one who pulled the trigger. I was the one who ended it. Yet, hours later, I was the one hiding on the freezing balcony in the dead of night, dry-heaving as the tears broke through.

A massive New Year's Eve party raged downstairs. Outside the window, explosive countdown fireworks violently shook the glass. I stared blankly at two little kids chasing each other across the snow-covered lawn below. I suddenly remembered that every single year, right as the deafening midnight fireworks erupted, the person who pulled me tight against his chest and firmly covered my ears from behind was always Julian.

Back then.

We hadn't even hit ten years old. I used to follow him everywhere like a shadow. Julian had looked my mom dead in the eye and proudly announced, "When I grow up, I'm going to marry Celine."

"Are you willing to marry him, Celine?" my mom had asked gently.

Back then, my childish brain couldn't even process the concept of marriage. I just blinked at them and asked, "Do I get to eat candy if I say yes?"

"Yeah!" Julian promised without a single second of hesitation. "I'm gonna make a billion dollars when I grow up, and I'll buy Celine all the candy in the world."

I giggled, gripping his small hand tightly. "Then Celine is willing!"

My mom just laughed and called me a greedy little monster.

Fast forward to tonight. The exact visuals of that childhood memory were blurred, but the pure, untainted rush of happiness was agonizingly fresh.

The phantom sound of our childish laughter echoed violently in my skull.

I buried myself under the heavy duvet, clamping my hands over my ears, desperately trying to block out the deafening fireworks and the suffocating memories.

My lungs collapsed.

I sobbed until I couldn't breathe.

For the first time in my entire existence. Throughout the entire winter break, Julian and I didn't go to a single movie. We didn't build forts in the snow.

We didn't count down the New Year together. We didn't even cross paths once.

The thick winter snow finally melted into sludge.

I dragged my luggage onto the train heading back to campus, my eyes compulsively darting toward the platform.

It was completely empty.

A sad, acoustic breakup song bled through my headphones. The burning tears spilled over, silently tracking down my face.

I aggressively repeated the same lie in my head like a broken mantra. It's over. You moved on. It's completely over.

But it was useless.

In the dead, suffocating silence of the night, I stood alone in the freezing dorm hallway. The traumatic grief hit me in agonizing waves.

I broke down, hyperventilating against the cold brick wall.

Why?

Why the hell did loving someone feel like being skinned alive? Why was I the one choking on my own tears just because I gave my heart to the wrong person?

Twenty years.

Two entire decades, completely infected and consumed by Julian.

During those endless, agonizingly sleepless nights, I merely survived.

I survived until my hair fell out in clumps.

I survived until my sanity shattered.

I survived until my legs finally gave out.

Chapter 5

When I finally opened my eyes again, an IV drip was already taped to the back of my hand.

Brooke stared down at me, her eyes filled with agonizing pity. "If you're literally dying inside over this, just go see him," she whispered.

See him?

The only way I could ever stop being pathetic was to cut him out completely.

I didn't fix the shattered screen of my phone. I deleted every trace of our shared past, including him, wiping the slate clean.

I forced myself to believe that if enough time passed, I would eventually be okay.

Except.

I never expected that barely three months after our explosive fallout, Julian and Victoria would publicly announce their relationship.

The massive alumni group chat completely detonated.

The notification badge blew past 99+ in seconds. Endless streams of congratulations flooded the screen, creating a sickeningly bright blur that burned my eyes. Meanwhile, I suffered a complete physical breakdown, looking like a literal walking corpse.

Brooke couldn't handle watching me wither away anymore. She wanted to drag him to the hospital to see what he'd done. When I absolutely refused to give her his number, she hunted it down herself.

But the second she mentioned the name Celine, the call was instantly violently disconnected.

Inside the suffocatingly dark hospital room.

Neither of us said a single word. Brooke fiercely redialed, stabbing the screen so hard she almost cracked it, completely unwilling to let it go.

I curled tightly under the scratchy hospital blanket, my body radiating a violent fever. "Please," I whispered weakly. "Just stop calling him."

"Celine, date my little brother," Brooke blurted out, gripping her phone tightly as she gently brushed the damp hair off my forehead. "He's legally an adult in a month. If he ever dares to hurt you, I will personally smash his skull in."

"Okay, okay," I managed a weak laugh, fully aware she was just trying to protect me. "I know you have my back. I'm fine. I'll get better soon."

Soon.

I forced myself to believe I would recover soon.

I squeezed my eyes shut, desperately trying to force out another laugh, but the burning tears betrayed me, sliding down the corners of my eyes and soaking into the sterile pillowcase.

Terrified my mom would discover my absolute mental and physical collapse, I aggressively pursued a study-abroad program. I moved across the globe, working multiple part-time jobs while juggling my coursework. I threw myself into launching a startup. I forced myself to aggressively learn how to exist as a single entity.

I proved to myself that I could walk down the Champs-lyses alone.

I proved I could stare at the Aegean Sea without needing anyone beside me.

Four years later, I finally touched down in the States. At the arrival gate, both my mom and Julian's mom were sobbing hysterically, absolutely crushing me in a joint hug. I let them hold me, but as I slightly lifted my gaze, my eyes instantly locked onto a sickeningly familiar figure standing near the exit doors.

He was wearing a simple, tailored white button-down, yet Julian managed to radiate a repulsive, arrogant aura of old money that perfectly matched the aggressive Ferrari parked right behind him.

He deliberately kept his physical distance.

Even when he reached out to load my luggage into the trunk, Julian didn't utter a single syllable. In that exact moment, we were nothing more than strangers who unfortunately knew too much about each other.

On the drive back.

The silence suffocating the interior of the car was absolutely deafening.

Julian's mom couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh. "You two used to be practically joined at the hip. Why on earth are you acting like strangers now?"

I dragged my gaze away from the passing scenery out the window. My eyes inadvertently collided with Julian's in the rearview mirror.

After a fraction of a second.

Julian violently ripped his gaze away, almost as if he was terrified that hesitating for a millisecond longer would invite me to cling to him again.

I let a cold, calculated smirk play on my lips. I smoothly answered his mom's question so her comment wouldn't fall flat:

"I guess the generation gap finally caught up to us."

"Oh, stop it," my mom scolded playfully, shooting me a warning look.

Julian's mom just laughed warmly. "Celine has definitely come out of her shell!"

I just smiled, effortlessly keeping the conversation flowing with his mom to keep her happy.

"So, Celine, are you seeing anyone?" my mom casually dropped the bomb, clearly testing the waters.

I rested my chin in my hand. I knew exactly what she was worried about, and I was terrified she was already secretly drafting a list of blind dates. I flashed a breezy smile. "There's someone I'm interested in, but we haven't made it official yet."

The second the words left my mouth.

The Ferrari slammed on the brakes.

Julian's mom grabbed the dashboard, furiously glaring at the front seat. "What the hell is wrong with your driving?!"

Through the rearview mirror.

Julian's eyes were locked dead onto me, completely glacial. He clearly hated the fact that I was back, utterly terrified I was going to expose our messy history. The veins bulged aggressively against the leather steering wheel as his knuckles turned stark white. He slammed his foot violently down on the gas pedal.

The sports car ripped down the highway a little too fast, but the jet lag hit me hard, and I was just too damn tired to care.

Chapter 6

I slept like the dead, trying to sleep off the massive jet lag, until my mom finally banged on my bedroom door to drag me down for dinner.

"Celine, is the boy you're interested in still overseas?"

"Huh?" I mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

My mom sighed heavily, wringing her hands. "There aren't many good guys out there. Celine, you really need to pick someone else."

I let out a tired exhale. "Mom, who on earth told you guys overseas are no good?"

"Julian did," she replied.

My jaw snapped shut mid-yawn. Before I could say a word, my mom launched into an endless, glowing monologue about Julian's absolute dominance in the corporate world these past few years. She bragged about how he had completely crushed the older generation of executives and aggressively expanded the family's investment firm into international markets.

"He's older than you, so naturally he thinks a few steps ahead," she continued, her eyes suddenly glistening with tears. "You're my only daughter, sweetie. If you end up with the wrong guy, it would completely break my heart."

I opened my mouth to comfort her, but a sharp knock on the open doorframe cut me off.

"Dinner's getting cold."

It was Julian.

My mom beamed at him. She patted my shoulder, shooing me toward the hallway, and casually dropped one last piece of advice. "You should really network with Julian more. He's so successful now, the men in his circle must be top-tier."

I bit the inside of my cheek. I had absolutely zero desire to touch that comment. Whether he was a brilliant billionaire or not wasn't my problem anymore, and I didn't care to find out. But reading between the lines, it was glaringly obvious.

Years of aggressively expanding his empire had turned Julian into a ruthless, calculating businessman who expertly protected his own interests.

The long dining table downstairs hadn't changed a bit. Our mothers sat huddled together on one side, leaving the two empty chairs on the opposite side for me and Julian.

I fully intended to fake a polite, peaceful dinner, but the second I stepped into his personal space, the oxygen completely evaporated from my lungs.

I immediately grabbed the heavy wooden chair and dragged it a solid foot away from his.

Julian's gaze snapped toward me from the corner of his eye, his expression completely unreadable.

"Has it really been that long? Why are you two so quiet?" His mom looked back and forth between us, thoroughly confused.

I just forced a tight, polite smile. To my absolute shock, Julian completely dropped his previous icy evasion. He picked up the serving tongs and deliberately placed a perfect cut of steak directly onto my plate.

"Thanks, big brother." I smoothly played along, perfectly polite.

Julian's hand froze mid-air. He stared at the tongs, thrown off by the title.

After all, from the exact second I realized I was in love with him all those years ago, I had absolutely refused to call him my brother.

Right on cue, my phone vibrated on the table. Brooke's name flashed on the screen. I internally sighed with massive relief and, out of pure habit, tapped the speakerphone button.

"Hey?"

"Celine, babe, I'm back in the States too. When are we hooking up?"

It was a guy's voice. It was incredibly deep and attractive, but dripping with a lazy, arrogant teasing.

I stared down at the screen, double-checking the caller ID to make sure it was Brooke.

"Oh, who is that?" Julian's mom's eyes practically lit up.

My mom leaned forward, practically vibrating with excitement.

My ears burned hot. I hurriedly grabbed the phone, turning off the speaker. "Hey, stop messing around."

"Give me a kiss, and I'll stop."

I slammed the end-call button so hard I nearly cracked the screen, absolutely mortified.

Thanks to Brooke's little stunt, Julian's mom was grinning from ear to ear. "Oh my goodness, our Celine is all grown up!"

"Where is the boy from? Is he from the East Coast?"

"Celine, you have to bring him around for Julian to meet. He has an incredible eye for people."

Clack.

Julian violently slammed his heavy silver fork onto the dining table.

The cheerful chatter in the room was instantly executed. His mom frowned, instantly annoyed. "We are eating dinner. What is your problem?"

My mom jumped in, smoothly attempting to defuse the tension.

Julian's lethal, dark expression barely twitched. He shoved his chair back and stood up. "I have an emergency at the firm. I'm leaving."

"Celine, walk Julian to the door," my mom prompted, nudging my arm.

"Absolutely not," Julian's mom intercepted instantly. "Celine hasn't even taken two bites of her food. Eat your dinner, sweetie."

I forced a grateful smile and obediently picked up my fork.

Later that night, safely locked in my bedroom.

[ Brooke: How was it? My brother's voice is literally hot enough to melt steel, right? Cost me fifty bucks to get him to say that! ]

I stared at the screen, completely torn between laughing and screaming into my pillow.

[ Me: Do you literally just have money to burn? ]

[ Brooke: Hey, I knew you were flying back today. I had to make sure your toxic, idiot childhood friend didn't try to trap you again. ]

[ Me: ]

Chapter 7

Brooke was definitely overthinking things. If it weren't for his mom, Julian would jump at the chance to stay a thousand miles away from me.

[ Brooke: Come out and grab some late-night grub. Spicy street tacos, your absolute favorite. ]

By 11 PM, my mom was already fast asleep. I hadn't eaten much at dinner, and my stomach was violently protesting. I slipped out the front door, but I hadn't even made it down the block before I spotted a familiar car.

The streetlights cast a hazy, yellow glow. Julian leaned aggressively against the door of his obnoxious Ferrari, his long fingers grasping a lit cigar. Through the swirling smoke, those violently predatory eyes locked dead onto me.

That exact look.

It perfectly overlapped with a fragmented memory, and his disgusting words echoed sickeningly in my ears: Are you just desperate to force me into marrying you?

"It's past eleven. Where exactly are you going?" Julian demanded, his voice slicing through the quiet street.

I treated his voice like absolute static, lengthening my strides.

The heavy thud of a car door slamming shut echoed behind me. I quickened my pace, but Julian easily closed the distance and brutally clamped his hand around my wrist.

"Go home."

""

I didn't bother struggling. I just leveled a freezing glare at him. "Let go."

Julian stared down at me. The iron grip on my wrist tightened even further, his tone dropping into that infuriatingly patronizing cadence, like he was scolding a toddler. "At this hour, you're going to run into the wrong kind of people."

The wrong kind of people?

I stared right into his dark eyes, a cold, mocking smirk twisting my lips. "I already did."

A sudden crack appeared in Julian's impenetrable mask. The oppressive energy radiating off him seemed to instantly deflate.

My face remained a mask of absolute ice. I ruthlessly yanked my wrist out of his grip.

The muscles in Julian's jaw locked so tight they looked like they might snap.

"Celine."

"Oh, relax. I'm just joking around. Big brother isn't actually mad, is he?" I flashed him a terrifyingly fake, plastic smile, instantly turning on my heel and walking away.

After being gone for so many years, I never expected to actually get lost in my own hometown. Crouching on the street corner waiting for Brooke, I suddenly realized the night wind was brutally sharp. It whipped against my face, making my eyes sting and water.

Across the street.

That arrogant Ferrari idled by the curb, drawing the attention of every single person walking by. It was obnoxiously loud.

Brooke let out a loud, piercing wolf-whistle, violently smacking my shoulder. "Oh my god, look at the ridiculously hot guy in the Ferrari! Babe, that is the kind of night you deserve to be having!"

I grabbed her arm, desperate to drag her away, but Brooke dug her heels in. "What are you doing? Go ask for his number!"

"That's Julian," I stated flatly.

"Who cares if he's" Brooke's excited grin froze, morphing into terrifying fury. She aggressively rolled up her sleeves, ready to sprint across the asphalt. "Wait, what? The billionaire asshole who gave you a promotional freebie as a gift? I am going to literally beat him to death with my bare hands"

Ripping open old wounds. She didn't mean to twist the knife, but it still bled.

I locked my fingers around Brooke's wrist, literally dragging her down the sidewalk. Life had to move forward. Getting tangled up with a ghost from my past was completely pointless.

However.

The second Brooke and I stepped into the brightly lit taco joint, that suffocatingly familiar silhouette materialized outside the glass window.

I watched him from the corner of my eye.

Brooke seethed, vibrating with anger. "Don't you dare let him drag you back into his toxic mess!"

I rested my chin in my hand, offering a lazy smile. "Can I crash at your place tonight?"

Brooke shoved a bite of food into her mouth, grinning mischievously. "Well, since CEO Celine is rolling in that overseas cash, I guess tonight's tab is"

"On me," I laughed.

During those years abroad, I had taken a massive, terrifying gamble. I drained my entire life savings to launch my own designer handbag label. It actually generated a ton of revenue initially, but recently, I had slammed face-first into a brutal bottleneck. Profits were sliding, and the anxiety had been eating me alive for months.

To avoid a confrontation with Julian, Brooke and I slipped out through the restaurant's greasy back alley. We hid out in the local park, aggressively downing cheap tequila.

3:00 AM.

I puked my guts out. Crouching by the curb, I desperately rinsed the sour taste out of my mouth before collapsing back onto a hard wooden bench, the world spinning violently around me.

"Finn! Get your ass over here right now! I can't carry her!"

"Brooke, are you kidding me? I'm your brother, not your goddamn servant!"

"Are you coming or not?" Brooke demanded aggressively.

Dead silence echoed from the other end of the line for a solid five seconds before he snapped back, stubbornly trying to maintain his pride. "Fine! I'm coming!"

After enduring half an hour of freezing wind, my brain was still a chaotic, spinning mess. My legs felt like wet noodles. I stared blankly at the occasional cars passing by in the dead of night.

Suddenly, through the blur, my eyes landed on the familiar brick building of my old elementary school.

Escaping this town meant being slowly poisoned by homesickness.

But coming back meant being brutally executed by the memories.

Chapter 8

"Brooke, I swear to God I'm paying off a blood debt to you in this life. This is so annoying. Where is your roommate?"

"Right there!" I followed Brooke's voice.

Backlit by the amber streetlights, a guy in a white hoodie was being physically shoved forward by Brooke. They were arguing right up until they stopped dead in front of me.

"Her that's your roommate?" Finn's voice abruptly dropped off. He threw a hesitant look at Brooke.

I blinked heavily, tilting my head back to focus on his face through the tequila haze. Unexpectedly, he crouched down right in front of me. Bathed in the dim light, Finn's skin was flawlessly pale. His features were so impossibly sharp he looked like a heavily photoshopped cover model. Not a single flaw.

"Hey, hurry up and carry her home. I'm exhausted," Brooke urged from the sidelines.

Finn shrugged off his ridiculously expensive leather racing jacket, which smelled heavily of motor oil and sharp mint, and wrapped it unquestioningly around my freezing shoulders. He leaned in, locking onto me with predatory, dark eyes. "Hey, I'm renting out an exclusive hug. Free of charge."

I stared at him, zoning out. Unconsciously, a toxic memory hijacked my mind.

Celine, don't let any other guys hold you. I'm the only one allowed to touch you.

"Celine, nod your head!" Brooke's voice practically shattered my eardrums.

I violently flinched, snapping back to reality. I looked at her, then back at Finn. I hesitated for a solid five seconds before I finally nodded.

Finn slipped his arms under me and effortlessly scooped me up bridal style.

Brooke frowned aggressively. "What the hell? Last time I got trashed, you threw me over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes!"

"Keep talking and I'll drop her on the pavement," Finn replied without even looking at her.

Brooke snapped her mouth shut.

As I hit the mattress, exhaustion wiped me out. Brooke reached over to strip off my jacket and suddenly let out a low whistle.

"Damn, Celine, your body is literally insane. Why are you hiding under these baggy hoodies? If I swung that way, I'd literally jump you right now."

"Pervert" I forced a weak laugh, burrowing deeper under the heavy duvet.

The more compliments I got like that, the hollower my chest felt. Because the older I got, the more the brutal truth sank in. Back then, Julian only ever looked at me like a prime cut of meat.

Early the next morning