Chapter 6: The Scent Of Him

Aurelia’s POV

I turned to leave, but Julien caught my hand. The moment his fingers wrapped around mine, the air shifted, charged and dangerous. He pulled me back, his breath grazing my cheek before his lips crashed into mine.

The kiss was wild and hungry, the kind that made the world tilt and logic dissolve. I melted against him like I’d been waiting for this all my life. He lifted me effortlessly, setting me on the table without breaking the kiss.

His hands moved with a slow, deliberate confidence, unbuttoning my shirt one clasp at a time, his gaze dark and unreadable. The cool air met my skin, and I shivered as his mouth trailed down the column of my neck, then lower, until he got between my legs.

“Julien…” My breath hitched, the sound slipping from me before I could stop it.

He answered with a low groan, his hand sliding up to cup my breast, thumb brushing across my nipple. His other hand wandered down, parting my thighs as his head dipped between them. A sound I didn’t recognize as my own filled the room.

Every nerve in my body burned, until a sharp vibration cut through the haze. My phone.

At first, I ignored it, desperate to cling to the feeling. But then, my eyes flew open.

I was in bed. Alone.

The phone buzzed again on the nightstand. Grant. I groaned, dragging a hand over my face before silencing it and tossing it aside.

So it was just a dream. A vivid, filthy dream.

“What is wrong with me?” I muttered, collapsing back into the pillows.

I’d only just started working there, at his company. Julien was my boss. He was just being polite and professional. I kept repeating that to myself, even as my hand unconsciously traced the same path his had taken in the dream.

The phone rang again, jolting me upright.

“Oh, for f***’s sake,” I hissed under my breath, grabbing it with shaky fingers.

“Grant, what is it?” I asked the moment I picked up the call, my voice sharper than I intended.

“Show some respect, will you?” he snapped. “When are you coming home?”

“Home?” I scoffed, shaking my head. “Have you not heard a single thing I’ve said? I want a divorce, Grant. Get the papers ready.”

Before he could respond, I hung up and pressed a trembling hand to my forehead. The anger, the guilt, the exhaustion, it all pressed down at once.

In the bathroom mirror, my reflection stared back, flushed cheeks, swollen lips, pupils still dilated from that damn dream. Shame burned through me when I realized I was still wet.

“What is wrong with me?” I muttered again, turning the shower on full blast. The water was cold, exactly what I needed.

By the time I stepped out, I’d forced my expression into something neutral. Composed. Cassia was already in the kitchen when I came out, whisking eggs with her usual morning energy.

“You look troubled,” she said, glancing at me from the corner of her eye.

“Grant called,” I replied flatly, pouring coffee into a mug.

“I assume he’s still refusing to accept the divorce?”

I nodded silently.

She sighed, setting the whisk down. “It’s not easy walking away from a marriage, Aurelia. But if this is really what you want, you need to stand firm. No looking back.”

I smiled weakly. “Thanks, Cass.”

I didn’t tell her about the dream, some things were too humiliating to admit. Especially when the man in it wasn’t my husband.

By the time we got to work, I’d tucked all of it behind my usual calm façade. I threw myself into research, testing new scent combinations, trying to lose myself in the comfort of creation. Notes of sandalwood, amber, and white musk, all too reminiscent of him.

I skipped lunch, but by afternoon, the fatigue started to creep in. I decided to grab a soda from the cafeteria.

On my way back, laughter and whispers drifted from the team’s large office.

“I’m still surprised she just waltzed in here and got to be Cassia’s assistant,” one voice said bitterly.

“I heard she has… connections,” another chimed in.

“Oh, definitely. There’s no way that woman got here on merit.”

“I thought this company had stricter policies,” a third voice added, dripping with disdain.

I froze just beyond the doorway, their words slicing through the thin thread of confidence I’d managed to hold onto.

My fingers tightened around the can in my hand as I swallowed the lump in my throat. Maybe coming back here wasn’t such a good idea. I’d wanted a fresh start, to stand on my own again, but instead, I was already a target.

If only they knew how hard I was trying to hold everything together.

Cassia’s office door opened, and I instinctively stepped back into the shadows of the hallway. She then turned toward the source of the whispers, their office.

The moment she walked in, the chatter died.

“Don’t you have any decency?” Cassia’s voice was calm, but it carried the weight of authority that made even the walls listen. “You do realize I could hear you from my office, right?”

No one dared to speak.

“Just because she’s not in her office right now doesn’t mean you get to tear her down behind her back,” she continued, each word clipped and cold.

A small, nervous voice mumbled, “We’re sorry.”

Cassia continued. “Look, I get it. You’ve all worked hard to earn your place here, and it’s frustrating watching someone step in and get noticed so fast. But that’s because she is an important part of this company.”

“How so?” someone dared to ask.

Cassia didn’t hesitate. “Because she and I created Magic.”

A ripple of shock spread through the room. I could practically hear the gasps.

“We… we didn’t know that,” one of them stammered.

“Of course you didn’t,” she said, her tone softening just slightly. “She disappeared for personal reasons, but she’s back now, and she deserves your respect. You might even learn something if you stopped gossiping long enough to pay attention.”

There was silence. Then her heels clicked sharply against the floor as she turned to leave.

“Let me not hear a word about this again,” she warned before disappearing into her office.

I exhaled shakily, realizing I’d been holding my breath the entire time. My fingers tightened around the soda bottle until it crinkled beneath my grip.

That was when I felt a shift in the air. The faint scent of cedarwood. I turned, and there he was.

Julien stood at the end of the hall, one hand tucked casually into his pocket, his gaze locked on me.

For a long, breathless moment, we just stared at each other, his expression unreadable, mine barely holding together.

My pulse stumbled.