Chapter 74

When Evelyn arrived at the concert venue, Julian's manager was already pacing by the VIP entrance. Tossing her keys to a waiting valet, she slipped into the exclusive front-row seat reserved just for her.

The proximity to the stage was breathtaking. Sapphire banners emblazoned with Julian's stage name - "Hartwell" - rippled across every surface of the arena.

As house lights faded, thousands of blue LED bracelets ignited simultaneously, transforming the space into a shimmering galaxy.

The bassline thrummed through Evelyn's chest. When the curtain dropped revealing twelve synchronized dancers, her gaze instantly found Julian center stage.

After an electrifying opening number, Julian struck his final pose beneath a single spotlight, chest heaving. In that crystalline moment, he wasn't just a performer - he was a supernova.

The crowd erupted.

"Hartwell! Marry me!"

"You're my eternal muse!"

Spotting Evelyn, Julian's lips curved into that trademark smirk that made stadiums swoon. Jumbotrons magnified the expression, triggering shrieks so intense several fans required medical attention.

Adjusting his headset mic, Julian's voice dropped to that intimate register fans adored. "Tonight's special because someone irreplaceable is watching." He paused dramatically. "My heart's compass."

The arena collectively held its breath.

Camera operators scrambled until spotlights pinned Evelyn in their glare. The screens zoomed in on her startled expression - raven hair framing delicate features, sapphire pendant catching the light like captured starlight.

For three heartbeats, thirty thousand fans assessed the woman who'd stolen their idol's affection. Then Julian disarmed them completely.

"Will my angels protect her like you protect me?"

The resulting roar shook the foundations.

"Always!"

"Consider it done!"

Evelyn's irritation melted under this unexpected shield of devotion. The raw sincerity in thousands of voices kindled something warm behind her ribs. For the first time, she grasped why Julian sacrificed privacy for this connection.

Post-concert, Evelyn leaned against Beatrice's custom Aston Martin. Instead of the anticipated entourage, Julian appeared alone, shrugging off his leather jacket.

"Miss me, trouble?" He grinned.

Evelyn jabbed a manicured finger at his chest. "You fed me to your fangirls like tribute! I should-"

Paparazzi descended like vultures smelling blood. Their lenses caught everything - the intimate body language, the seven-figure sports car, the way Julian instinctively positioned himself between Evelyn and the cameras.

"Who's the mystery woman, Hartwell?"

"Secret romance?"

"Is she why you turned down the Coachella headline?"

As more fans spilled from the venue, Julian smoothly guided Evelyn into the car. Once clear of the chaos, he scrolled through trending hashtags, chuckling at wild fan theories:

"Childhood sweethearts reunited!"

"Fated since the maternity ward!"

"Arranged marriage between music royalty!"

Evelyn groaned. "Your stans need psychiatric help."

Julian's amusement died when he spotted hate comments. His knuckles whitened around the phone. "I'll bury whoever-"

A sudden glare of headlights.

Evelyn's scream lodged in her throat as eighteen wheels veered into their lane. The Aston Martin's collision sensors shrieked warnings too late.

Metal screamed.

Airbags exploded like gunshots.

Through the spiderwebbed windshield, Evelyn saw the truck reverse for another impact before fleeing into the night. Distantly, she registered reporters too terrified to approach the wreck.

Then - through smoke and twisted steel - a silhouette emerged. Broad shoulders. Precise stride. A face like carved ice beneath the emergency lights.

Nathan Sterling didn't run.

Men like him never did.

But the way his dress shoes crunched broken glass? That was pure fury.