
His Three Regrets, My One Price
Chapter 2
Of course, I was happy. I was seeing a living, breathing Julian again.
I smiled. "I think you're the greatest man in the world. Any woman who marries you would be the luckiest on earth."
Julian grunted softly and turned away. "Go back to your apartment."
He strode off without a backward glance. If I didn't already know how much he detested me, I might have thought he was just shy.
The Lincoln Town Car headed back toward the apartment. As we passed Times Square, I opened the partition to the driver's cabin.
The car's television was tuned to the financial news, the anchor's voice booming with excitement.
"Tonight's bombshell on Wall Street! The Blackwood Group has unexpectedly announced its acquisition of the up-and-coming fashion brand 'Davenport'! Sources say a mysterious major shareholder of the Blackwood Group personally approved the deal, ensuring its success. A once-in-a-century masterstroke!"
Those words eased a tightness in my chest. I had seen a similar scene in my past life. Back then, I had clutched Julian's sleeve, eyes shining with hope, begging him to go to a charity gala with me.
A mocking smile had curved his lips. "Isn't trapping me for a lifetime enough for you? Now you want to parade me around for everyone to see? All this charity nonsense is such a pathetic charade. If you want to put on a show, do it alone. Don't drag me into it."
His cold gaze, even now, sent a shiver down my spine.
I closed the partition.
Just then, Julian spoke, his tone flat. "Where do you want to go? I'll go with you tonight. After we're married, I won't have time to visit your parents' grave. Consider it compensation."
I looked up at him, surprised. The offer was unexpected, yet it wasn't. Julian had always been like this—his words were knives, but his heart was softer than anyone's.
He didn't love me, yet he had still risked his life for me three times.
The first time, we were kidnapped overseas. He took a dagger wound to the wrist for me. From that day on, his once-steady hand, a hand that could command a boardroom with precision, could no longer handle strenuous activity.
The second time, I contracted a rare disease and hovered on the brink of death. He broke into a quarantined zone to find a special medicine for me, nearly getting infected himself and ending up in isolation for half a month.
The third time, he died saving me in a helicopter crash.
Julian was perfect in every way; he just didn't love me.
I knew that after today, there would be nothing between us. No matter how many events we attended together, no amount of media spin could ever make us a real couple.
Despite this, I suppressed the sting in my eyes and managed an effortless smile.
"Okay," I said. "Let's go together."
Halfway there, the car stopped. Chloe's call came through. She said her company was saved, she was throwing a party, and she had to see Julian.
He frowned instantly and, without hesitation, told the driver to pull over.
"Something's come up with Chloe. I have to go check on her," he said. "You head back to the apartment. I'll call you later."
I nodded. "Okay."
He paused, clearly surprised. "You've always hated it when I see her. Why the sudden change of heart?"
I opened my mouth to answer.
Before I could speak, he scoffed. "Never mind. We're getting married soon. She's no longer a threat to your position."
He left without another glance, not seeing the disappointment and bitter smile I couldn't quite hide. The truth was, I had never tried to stop his favoritism toward Chloe.
There was only one exception. When I heard a rumor that Chloe was involved with a married investor to secure funding, I investigated and found it to be true. That was the only time I desperately tried to keep Julian away from her.
He never knew. After her company went bankrupt, he mourned for ten long years.
If I had to choose, I would rather he be with Chloe than endure that torment and die for me.
I finalized the arrangements for my finances, my new identity, and my move to Colorado before returning to the Blackwood Manor.
My adoptive mother, Eleanor Blackwood, had personally prepared dinner, the table laden with my favorite dishes.
I took off my cashmere shawl, draping it over her shoulders as I always did. "It's cold. Wear this."
She beamed at me. "You're always so considerate. Come, tell me how the wedding plans with Julian are coming along. I've waited so long for you to finally call me Mom."
My adoptive father, Richard Blackwood, glanced behind me. Seeing no one, his face soured.
"That boy didn't come back with you again?" he said sharply. "The wedding is just around the corner, and he still doesn't know how to cherish you. When he gets back, I'm giving him a piece of my mind."
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