Chapter 211

"Come on, Julian, just make the call!" The private lounge echoed with rowdy encouragement from the group of wealthy young men.

Julian Chase rubbed his temples, the noise giving him a headache. Seizing the opportunity to test Lucy White's sincerity, he dialed the number he'd obtained from a production assistant.

The line rang endlessly before a sleep-laden female voice answered with evident irritation. "Who is this?"

Clearing his throat, Julian adopted a deliberately smooth tone. "Miss White, it's Julian Chase."

"What do you want?" Her voice sharpened instantly, any trace of drowsiness gone.

"Some friends and I are at Nightfall. Care to join us?"

A soft, derisive laugh traveled through the receiver. "Not interested. I'm going back to sleep."

Julian checked his watch. "It's barely past eleven. The night's just starting."

"Early to bed, early to rise." Her tone turned icy. "If that's all—"

"Wait!" He cut in hastily. "As a personal favor?"

Another scoff. "You should be more concerned about surviving tonight, Mr. Chase."

His expression stiffened. Was she still playing this charade?

"That's exactly why I wanted you here," he said, half-joking.

A cold chuckle. "Just keep the talisman on you. Goodbye."

The line went dead with finality.

Silence blanketed the lounge.

"Damn, she's got attitude," someone finally muttered.

"Only a woman like that could catch Julian's eye."

Julian's face cycled through emotions before settling on amused intrigue. "Fascinating."

At 2 a.m., the group stumbled out of the bar, intoxicated and loud.

"Julian, where's your car?" one slurred.

Pulling out his phone, Julian called for his driver. His fingers brushed the talisman in his pocket out of habit.

Thud.

A dull impact numbed his shoulder.

"Look out!" a friend shouted belatedly.

The second bullet was already streaking toward his thigh.

In that split second, Julian felt a searing heat bloom over his chest. The expected agony never came. Trembling, he reached into his shirt pocket—

The talisman had disintegrated into ash.

"This... can't be real..." He stared at the bullet casing in his palm, voice shaking.

"Julian! Are you okay?" The group swarmed him, faces pale with terror.

Asher York, recently returned from overseas, picked up the bullet and went rigid. "This is a cutting-edge sniper round. How could—"

Julian's legs gave out. Only the wall kept him upright. Clutching the ashes, Lucy's detached words echoed in his mind:

"Just keep the talisman on you."