Ch12 - The watch

Violet sat stiffly at Julian’s side, pressed up against his thigh, uneasy with the closeness. Maybe it was guilt, maybe nerves.

Julian’s hand rested warm on her waist. The moment she’d walked into the room, he’d recognized her instantly. His eyes flicked over her outfit—cropped black tank, a vest thrown on top. And just like that, the booze haze cleared from his head.

This whole crowd was his usual pack of drinking buddies, dragging him out to “celebrate” his first day showing up at the office. Three bars later, he’d been force-fed round after round, surrounded by random girls someone had invited in. He’d been thinking of how the hell to make an exit—then Violet appeared. 

Unexpected, sure. But the perfect excuse to ditch.

His palm burned hot from the alcohol as it pressed against her cool skin. Playing along, he lifted his half-finished glass to her lips, coaxing, “They won’t let me leave unless I down this. Do me a favor, yeah?”

Violet, swallowing her nerves, tilted her head back and started drinking.

But a voice cut in, jeering: “Hey, what’s that? Gotta add a little something first.”

A few of the guys egged each other on, one grabbing a clear bottle off the table. Even before the cap was off, Violet’s gut screamed this was bad news. The stench of raw alcohol hit her nose as a splash was poured into Julian’s glass.

Julian raised a brow, eyeing the guy. “Really, Tom? You playing that dirty?”

“C’mon, we always play this way. Relax—it’s not you drinking.” Tom smirked at Violet.

Julian didn’t move the glass away. He just stared at it.

Violet understood. She swallowed hard, grabbed his hand, and knocked it back in one go.

The burn was instant, searing her throat and tongue, ripping through her chest like fire. Heat exploded through every pore. She gasped, eyes watering, face twisted as the liquor scorched its way down.

“Holy shit, Tom, you just gave her Everclear!” someone howled.

“That’s the point—makes it fun!” Tom grinned.

“Julian, you’re the same as always. Even when you pick a girl, you don’t know how to go easy on her.”

“He probably treats her worse in private. Hah!”

Violet’s heart thudded so hard it echoed in her ears. She didn’t know if it was the liquor hitting her bloodstream, or the dozen eyes glued to her, some mocking, some almost pitying.

Julian tipped the empty glass upside down, showing it was drained. “Deal’s done. Last one, like I said.”

“Aw, don’t tell me you’re really bailing. Buzzkill.” Matt piped up, already pulling his phone, hoping for a shot he could pass on to Marcus.

The rest chimed in, “Quit with that bullshit about ‘work tomorrow.’ You’ve never worked a day in your life.”

“Cut me some slack,” Julian drawled, glancing down at the girl in his arms. “Can’t you see I’ve got other business to handle?”

Violet was still reeling, her skin flushed, breath coming fast. Her hand clung tight around his wrist, hotter than his own.

But what caught him off guard—her glassy eyes weren’t on his face. They were fixed on his watch.

Julian shifted his wrist slightly, but her gaze followed, locked in. Her fingers trembled as they brushed the dial.

“This feels… so familiar…” she murmured.

Her eyes lingered on the dial, tracing the ticking hand. It didn’t sweep smoothly like most mechanicals. It jumped—tick, tick—each second snapping into place with a precise rebound. A rare complication she’d only ever read about: the deadbeat seconds.

Her voice softened, almost dazed. “I think I saw a watch like this once… when I was a kid.”

Tom blinked like he’d misheard. “CHRIST, guess the Everclear wasn’t just strong—it’s giving her hallucinations.”

He raised his voice so the whole room could hear. “Boys, you catch that? She says she’s seen Julian’s watch before.”

Laughter rippled through the group.

“NO WAY. That piece is brand-new, straight from Reinhardt & Cie. Julian just got it. We’re all looking at it for the first time tonight.”

Violet said nothing. She wasn’t lying.

As a child, she’d seen the same mechanism, the same color scheme—on her mother’s wrist. The roar of the room dulled as her fingers brushed the dial. All she could hear was the ticking hand, her chest tightening with something she couldn’t quite name.

From the corner, Tiffany gave a smug little laugh. Perfect—Violet had just embarrassed herself trying to look like she knew something. But her smile froze when Julian calmly slid the watch off his wrist and fastened it around Violet’s instead.

“You like it?” he said, voice casual. “Then it’s yours.”

The room went dead for a beat, then every pair of eyes darted between them in disbelief.

“JESUS Christ…” Tom clutched his head. “That’s the watch you waited a year for, and you just—what—hand it over ‘cause she batted her lashes? Why not give it to me! I’m dying here.”

Matt chimed in, “Damn it, I’ve known you half my life. You puked on me once, and I didn’t even get a thank-you beer. Now this girl gets a million-dollar watch?”

The watch on Violet’s wrist gleamed with a champagne-gold dial. Tom felt his heart bleed, like the damn thing had been pried straight out of his own hands.

“DO you even realize what that is? That’s Reinhardt’s special edition. There are only twenty two of those in the world.”

Julian only smirked. “What can I say? A watch like that belongs on a beautiful woman.”

Tom threw his arms up. “SCREW this. Next life, I’m coming back as a gorgeous girl.”

Matt jabbed his chin toward Violet. “You know, that thing’s worth more than you’ll ever earn in a lifetime. Least you could do is say thank you. Hell, give him a kiss while you’re at it.”

The crowd howled and chanted, “Kiss him! Kiss him!”

Violet’s head lifted. Her gaze locked on Julian’s. His eyes were darker now, unreadable, the edge of a grin tugging at his lips. He didn’t move, didn’t lean in—just waited.

Her hand rose, brushing his cheek, and then she leaned forward. Their mouths touched, quick, feather-light, more staged than real. But from the outside, it looked intimate enough to send the room into thunderous cheers.

Julian’s arm tightened around her shoulders, playing his part. But all she’d done was press her lips against the corner of his mouth.

Pulling back, Violet found herself staring at him, distracted by the tiny beauty mark at the corner of his eye. For a moment she forgot to breathe.

Julian faltered too, just for a heartbeat, before smoothing it over with his usual swagger. He swiped a thumb across his lip, grinning. “Alright, show’s over. Let me out of here now.”

“Fine, fine,” Tom laughed, pulling him into a half-hug. “Wouldn’t be a good bro if I ruined your night.”

Julian clapped his back, murmured thanks, then laced his fingers through Violet’s and tugged her out.

She stumbled, still light-headed, and leaned into his steady grip.

In the car, the ghost of his warmth lingered on her lips. She rolled the window down, gulping the cool air, trying to clear her head. Her fingers brushed the weight on her wrist. The watch.

She stared at it, traced the golden dial, then carefully slid it off and held it out. “Here. Take it back.”

Julian barely glanced over. “No. I don’t take back gifts.”

Her hand hovered awkwardly in the air before she pulled it back. She turned the watch over, mesmerized by the exposed gears and wheels ticking in perfect harmony. And then—there, faintly etched in the metal—she thought she saw the letter V.

Her breath hitched. She leaned closer, but before she could be sure, Julian’s voice cut cold through the space.

“Let’s hope we don’t have another scene like tonight. Ever again.”