“She’s a paid companion with a good voice. Julian hired her to keep his inheritance.”
Evelyn slowly stood up. The noise died down instantly. The matriarch looked from Isabella to Julian, and finally, her gaze settled on Eleanor. Her face was as unreadable as stone.
— “Is this true?” Evelyn asked quietly, but her voice cut through the silence.
Julian opened his mouth to lie, to spin, to do what he always did—win the deal. But Eleanor stepped out from behind him. She looked at the hundreds of judging faces. At Isabella’s malicious grin. At the icons above the altar.
— “Yes,” Eleanor said. Her clear, trained voice rang through the hall.
The crowd gasped again. Julian looked at her, stunned.
Eleanor stepped down two steps to be on the same level as Isabella, then turned to Evelyn Sterling.
— “Yes, ma’am,” Eleanor said, her head held high. “Every word in that contract is true. Three weeks ago, I was drowning. My brother was dying, and I had nothing. Your grandson offered me a lifeline. Ten million dollars for a role. I accepted. And I would accept it again in a heartbeat to save Leo’s life. I’m not ashamed of sacrificing myself for the people I love.”
She paused, letting the words sink in. The image of a greedy predator began to crack, replaced by something more complex. Then Eleanor turned to Julian, stepped back up to the altar, and took his hands. They were ice cold.
— “But that was three weeks ago,” Eleanor said softly, speaking only to him and ignoring the fifteen hundred spectators. “We signed a contract for a performance, Julian. But somewhere between the press conference, the late-night talks, and the kiss on the balcony, I forgot my lines.”
Julian’s eyes widened. Eleanor turned back to the crowd, her voice ringing with emotion.
— “I stood on a stage in his restaurant, covered in wine, and sang Mozart because I refused to be broken. And Julian Sterling was the first man in my life who didn’t try to silence me, but challenged me to sing louder.”
She reached out and snatched the contract from Isabella’s stunned hands.
— “Isabella is right. This document says our marriage is a lie.”
Eleanor ripped the contract in half. The sound of the paper tearing was shocking in the cathedral’s acoustics. She ripped it again and again until the multi-million dollar agreement was just confetti at her feet.
— “I don’t want the money,” Eleanor announced. “I’m terminating the contract. If you want to marry me, Julian Sterling, then marry me. Eleanor Vance from the outskirts. No deals. No deadlines. Just us.”
A heavy silence hung in the air. Everyone looked at Julian, the billionaire playboy, the man who never did anything without a guaranteed return. Julian looked at the scraps of paper on the floor. He looked at Isabella, who was shaking with rage. Then he looked at Eleanor. She stood before him, vulnerable, offering nothing but the truth.
Julian smiled. A real smile that reached his eyes and transformed his face. He stepped toward Eleanor, invading her space and wrapping an arm around her waist with a possessiveness that made the crowd sigh.
— “You’re fired,” Julian whispered hoarsely.
Eleanor’s breath hitched.
— “What?”
— “As my employee—you’re fired.” He leaned closer. “But I’d like to hire you for a new position. A permanent one. I love you, Eleanor. I think I loved you the second you hit that high note.”
He kissed her right there at the altar, before the vows, before God and the paparazzi. It was a passionate kiss that told the world the contract no longer mattered.
When they pulled apart, the heavy silence was broken by a rhythmic sound.
*Thump. Thump. Thump.*
Evelyn Sterling was clapping. Slowly and deliberately. A genuinely amused smile played on her stern face.
— “Well,” Evelyn announced to the shocked room. “That was certainly more interesting than the usual vows. The girl fired Julian. She tore up a fortune in a church. She’s either a fool or desperately in love. Either way, she’s dangerous enough to be a Sterling.”
She waved her cane at the priest…
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