Chapter 9 - The Right Kind of Partner
It was Julian Vance—no relation to Jonathan, but a brilliant senior venture capital analyst whom I had worked with during my years at Vanguard before I met Adrian.
Julian had always been steady, sharp, and deeply respectful of my career, though the timing of our previous lives had never quite aligned. When my identity as an Ellison had remained a secret, he had valued me purely for my mind, my analytical rigor, and my quiet resilience.
"Julian," I said, standing up from the table. "What brings you to the Ellison estate? I thought you were managing the London portfolio expansion."
Julian smiled, walking into the conservatory with a bouquet of fresh white lilies—my favorite. He looked handsome in a simple navy blazer, his eyes warm and familiar.
"I finished the London expansion early," Julian said, stepping closer and handing me the flowers. "And when I heard that the executive director of the Ellison Foundation was looking for someone to head their new global technology and economic empowerment initiative... I figured I’d apply in person."
I took the lilies, inhaling their fresh, clean scent, and laughed softly. "You flew across the Atlantic just to apply for a job?"
"Not just for the job," Julian admitted, his voice softening as he looked down at me, his gaze entirely sincere. "I heard about everything that happened, Claire. And while I’m sorry for the pain you went through, I’m not surprised by how you handled it. You’ve always been the strongest person in any room you enter."
I looked into his eyes, seeing no arrogance, no manipulation, and no fragile ego—only genuine mutual respect and admiration.
"I'm not the same person I was three years ago, Julian," I said honestly, meeting his gaze without hesitation. "I don't play small anymore. I don't hide who I am, and I don't tolerate disrespect."
"I wouldn't dream of asking you to," Julian replied without missing a beat. "I admired the brilliant analyst you were when we worked together, and I have nothing but absolute awe for the woman you've become."
He reached out, gently taking my hand—not the bruised palm that had caught the leather belt months ago, but my hand, fully healed and steady.
"So," Julian smiled, a warm, reassuring expression. "Is the position still open? Or do I need to schedule an official interview with your father first?"
May you like
I laughed, feeling a profound lightness in my chest—a sense of complete freedom and joy that I hadn't felt in years.
"Your references check out, Julian," I said, stepping closer. "Let’s start with lunch and discuss the terms."
