His own assets, meanwhile, were carved out and separated with exquisite care. Present holdings. Future investments. Any external income streams. Every inch of his estate had been fenced off.
He had written himself freedom and me a cage.
I let my lower lip tremble.
“It looks complicated,” I whispered. “What if I don’t understand it?”
Julian leaned in, put an arm around my shoulders, and pulled me gently against him. I could smell cologne. Clean linen. And underneath it, faint but unmistakable, the sweet floral perfume Lauren wore.
It almost made me laugh.
Instead, I swallowed and let tears gather in my eyes.
“You don’t have to understand every clause,” he murmured into my hair. “That’s why you married a lawyer.”
I made a small broken sound.
He stroked my shoulder, pleased.
“The world you’re entering is vicious, Vivien. You know code. You know products. But people like this—they eat founders alive. Let me do what I do. Let me protect what we built.”
We.
I tilted my face up just enough for him to see tears slip down.
“I trust you,” I said.
There is no drug on earth quite as intoxicating as a narcissist’s belief that he has successfully manipulated someone smarter than himself.