He Marked Another Luna, So She Slept With His Alpha Brother

Ch. He Marked Another Luna, So She Slept With His Alpha Brother 91 He Marked Another Luna, So She Slept With His Alpha Brother 91

Chapter 91

Julian’s POV Post

“Lower your voice!” she snapped. “I sacrificed too much to let you ruin everything now. Vivienne is your wife, and you will make peace with her. I won’t have you chasing Camila while the position you’ve worked to gain slips away.”

hard

“Mother, enough!” I snapped. “I love Camila, and one day, I’ll be with her again. You can object all you want, but that won’t change anything.”

Before she could respond, I turned and strode toward the stairs. Camila had rejected me, and she might be getting close to Roman, but I refused to accept that she was gone from my life forever. The thought of her with my half–brother made my blood boil. I wanted her back, and I couldn’t bear the idea of another man claiming what was mine.

If she gave me a child, perhaps she would finally understand that we belonged together. Perhaps she would stop fighting what was inevitable.

“Julian! Get back here!” Mother shrieked behind me. I ignored Mother and kept walking. “Have you lost your mind?” she kept shouting.

“After everything I’ve done for you, you’re throwing yourself away over that woman? She rejected you! She humiliated you! And now you want to crawl back to her while she entertains your own brother?”

I reached the staircase. “Let her try stepping into this family!” Mother continued, her voice rising with every word. “Over my dead body! That woman thinks she can use you to climb into high society? She thinks she can become one of us just because you want her? Never! As long as I’m alive, Camila Hart will never be accepted into this family!”

I didn’t stop. Her furious voice followed me down the corridor, but my decision was already made.

Camila’s POV

“Shoulders back. Chin up. And remember, don’t walk as though you’re heading to the market.”

Anabela demonstrated the movement again, and I tried to imitate her.

“Bella, if you keep making me practise, I might end up walking in my sleep tonight.”

She laughed. “That’s the spirit! You’re ready, Camila. Trust me.”

I gave her a doubtful look, but I was beginning to feel more confident. I had practised the turns, the pauses, and the final pose until I could almost do them without thinking. Then the roar of the audience reached us from beyond the backstage curtains.

My stomach tightened. “Are there really that many people out there?”

“Quite a few,” Anabela replied cheerfully. “And some very important ones. But don’t worry about them. Just focus on the runway.”

Easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one who might embarrass herself in front of an audience full of fashion experts. I edged toward the curtain, intending to steal a quick look at the crowd. Then I saw him.

Julian.

He stood alone among the business guests, looking completely out of place. What was he doing here? For a moment, I could only stare. Memories came rushing back–how he’d return home in a foul mood and expect

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me to soothe his wounded pride, how I’d listen to his complaints and reassure him that he was capable of,

more, even when he treated my own feelings as an afterthought. I’d wasted so much time making that man Neel important. And for what?

His handsome face?

Please. If physical attraction were the only thing that mattered, Roman Blackwell would win that contest without breaking a sweat.

I pulled away from the curtain, irritated with myself for even thinking about Julian.

“Camila?” Anabela peered at me. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve just spotted a ghost.”

“Worse. A dog in an expensive suit.”

She blinked. “What?” I tilted my head toward the crowd near the backstage. “Julian Blackwell.”

Anabela leaned around me, spotted him, and immediately turned back with a worried expression/“Oh, no He’s probably here to network, I suppose. Camila, don’t let him ruin your night.”

“Why would he?” I shrugged. “He’s just another face in the crowd.”

“Good. Because tonight, you’re going to walk out there and make everyone forget they ever saw you as anything other than extraordinary.” She squeezed my shoulders. “And if Julian happens to notice what he lost, that’s just a bonus.”

I laughed at her enthusiasm. “Bella, I came here to save your show, not avenge my broken heart.”

“Then save it spectacularly!”

Julian’s POV

The fashion show was about to begin, yet I still hadn’t managed to speak to any of the influential business figures in attendance. Every time I tried greeting someone, I was met with indifference or a dismissive glance. It was infuriating. It was as if there was a conspiracy against me.

Did they have any idea who I was? I was Julian Blackwell, heir to the Blackwell’s business empire. I shouldn’t have to chase people for their attention. They should be the ones seeking my friendship.

My gaze wandered to the front row, where an empty seat stood directly beside the catwalk. It was clearly reserved for someone important. Several prominent guests had already taken their places nearby, probably hoping to catch the VIP’s attention when they arrived.

But who was important enough to command such a prime seat?

For a moment, I imagined myself sitting there, with influential people crowding around me, eager to earn my favour. That was how things should be. One day, I would make sure everyone knew my worth.

“Move. You’re blocking the way.” A cold voice came from behind me.

I turned sharply, only to find Roman staring down at me with open disdain.

“Roman? What are you doing here?”

The venue was dim, but I could still make out the contempt in his eyes. He looked at me as though I were something disgusting beneath his shoe.

“Did you suddenly lose your hearing?” he asked. “Move, you retard.”

My hands curled into fists. Roman was a few centimetres taller than me, and he had a presence that made people instinctively give way. I hated that about him. “Who the hell are you calling a retard?”

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He gave me a look of exaggerated disbelief. “You really are a retard, aren’t you? I’m talking about you,”

“You’ve gone too far! I swear, Roman, I’ll-”

Heshoved me aside before I could finish. “I don’t have time to listen to a toad croak.” With that, he walked away as if I were beneath his notice.

Rage surged through me. He had insulted me to my face, shoved me aside, and now he was simply leaving? “Roman! Get back here!”

I moved to follow him, but a staff member stepped into my path.

“Excuse me, sir. May I see your invitation?”

I handed it over, expecting him to let me pass. Instead, another security guard approached. “I’m sorry sir. Your assigned seat is in the general section. This area is reserved for VIP guests with special invitations.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“Please proceed to your designated seat.”

“You mean I’m not allowed in there?” I pointed toward Roman, who was already walking through the VIP entrance. “Then why is he allowed in?”

“Alpha Blackwell is one of our honoured guests.”

Honoured guest? I nearly laughed in disbelief. I could only watch as he crossed the front row and settled into the very seat I’d been wondering about–the best seat in the entire venue.

So that was who it had been reserved for. Alpha Roman.

The humiliation burned even deeper when several influential guests rose from their seats to greet him. Before long, they were gathered around him, eager to exchange pleasantries and engage him in conversation. Meanwhile, I was being kept out of the very section where they were welcoming him with open arms.

My nails dug into my palms. How could the difference between us be so damn unfair? I was Gregory Blackwell’s son, the heir to the Blackwell Group. And he was just the Alpha of Ravencrest. Yet people treated Roman like royalty while looking at me as though I were nobody.

I watched him accept their attention with that infuriating composure, and hatred settled deep in my chest. One day, I swore, I would bring Roman Blackwell to his knees. And when that day came, I would make him regret every insult he had ever thrown at me.