Ch16 - Useless son

Julian’s phone buzzed, snapping him out of his thoughts.

It was Lydia. “You promised dinner with me and Felix the other night, then bailed last minute. And now you tell me not to mention to anyone that you’re married? What the hell’s going on with you?”

From her seat, Violet glanced over. She couldn’t hear everything, but the car was so quiet she caught bits of a sweet female voice and Julian’s low chuckle.

His tone was lazy, almost teasing. “Not the right time… reasons don’t matter. Quit gossiping.”

Then he arched a brow. “Now? I mean, I could… Send me the address, I’ll swing by later. Yeah… bye.”

He hung up, then tilted his chin toward Violet. “You did well today.”

She kept her voice flat. “That’s what I’m here for.”

A couple seconds of silence passed. Violet opened her mouth to speak—

—but Julian cut in first. “I probably won’t be home much the next few days.”

She blinked. It seemed pointless to tell her that, but she just nodded. Then, gathering a bit of nerve, she added softly, “Actually, there’s something I wanted to ask… for your approval.”

He cocked his head. “Go on.”

“I… saw an invitation at the house. A private pocket watch event. I was wondering if I could go.”

Julian’s fingers, drumming on the armrest, stilled. He turned to look at her. “What event?”

Violet’s throat tightened. “Sorry—I didn’t mean to snoop. It was just lying out. They’ll be showing dozens of pocket watches from different eras. But it’s invitation-only. I’d really like to go.”

Julian finally remembered. He got plenty of those invites, rarely bothered unless he needed a gift.

So that’s it…

He raised a brow and called one of his assistants. “Jay, arrange it. Violet’ll attend that pocket watch thing under my name. Any future ones she wants, clear it for her.”

Click. He ended the call and turned back. “Done. Jay’ll reach out. Anything else, tell him.”

But what caught him was her face. That subtle warmth in her eyes, the way she lit up at the mention of watches. Every time the topic came up, she came alive.

What Julian didn’t know was how big this was for Violet. Living with her aunt Polly’s family, she’d always swallowed her own wants, never dared ask for anything. This was the first time she’d voiced something she truly wanted—and Julian had said yes, just like that.

For him, it was nothing, just a flick of the wrist. For her, it meant everything. After years of suffocating, this felt like air.

She found herself staring at him, a little lost, even envious—of the way he lived so freely, so unapologetically.

Julian dropped his gaze, turned his face aside. “We’re here. Out you go.”

Snapping back, Violet slipped out of the car. Julian’s eyes followed her longer than he meant to. Only when her figure disappeared did he tell the driver to move on.

——

The minute the guests left, Edward’s face darkened. “WHAT the hell were you thinking, asking Julian about kids? You really wanna broadcast to everyone what’s on your mind?”

Nora dropped into a chair with a huff. “What’s wrong with me showing a little concern? It was just small talk. Unlike you, I actually think about our son’s future.”

Edward snapped, “FUTURE? For that useless brat? You expect me to drag this broken body of mine around, clearing every damn rock out of his path? It’s because of you babying him that he’s still so spineless.”

Just the thought of Marcus made his blood pressure spike. Especially that sour look on his son’s face all through dinner—no poise, no presence. And this was supposed to be the heir? 

CHRIST. The plan had been to pass the CEO role down to Marcus in a year or two, but looking at him now? At thirty, still not half a man. Shame he was the only kid they had.

Edward’s chest tightened, his hand clutching at it as his breath turned shallow.

“OH, DON’T! Don’t work yourself up.” Nora rushed over, yelling for the maid to bring his pills. “The doctor told you not to let your emotions run wild. Why rile yourself up again?”

The maid brought the medicine and water. Edward swallowed the pills, waited until his breathing steadied, then shot his wife a hard look. “You and Serena are the same—you both spoiled your boys into useless men.”

Nora sneered. “DON’T lump me in with her. Marcus is my flesh and blood, of course I take care of him. Serena? She was playing the long game, raising Julian into a screw-up so her own kid could take over one day. Too bad…”

Too bad fate hadn’t played her way. Philip had died before she could ever pull it off. She’d only been pregnant once, and the baby hadn’t lasted three months. After that, she never carried again.

Nora pressed on, “Remember that doctor our old friend recommended? Once Allison and Marcus tie the knot, we should get them into IVF right away.”

Edward frowned. “That soon? Winthrop only has one daughter. I don’t know if—”

“Don’t be dramatic. They’re young, their odds are better now. And you know what Ashford men are like…”

Her phone buzzed. Nora glanced down—and froze. Winthrop. Allison’s parents.

At this hour, that couldn’t be good. She pasted on a calm face, told Edward it was just a friend, and slipped out to the garden to take it.

Five minutes later, she was pacing like a madwoman, face drained of color. The call ended, and she immediately rang Marcus. “DO you know what just happened? The Winthrops called—they want to call off the engagement!”

“WHAT?” Marcus exploded. “She’s really pulling this shit? That spoiled princess!”

Nora nearly dropped the phone in panic. If Edward found out, the shock could put him right in the hospital. “You need to go smooth this over. Now.”

“Not a chance,” Marcus barked. “I’ve put up with her tantrums long enough.”

Nora was pacing so hard the gravel crunched under her shoes. “YOU’RE weeks from the wedding, and you’re throwing it away now? Do you even care about your future? About the company watching your every move? You can’t screw this up.”

Marcus let out a long sigh. “You two just want a grandkid. Fine. I’ll do what Julian did—find some random woman to knock up. Marry her later, problem solved. The kid won’t be a bastard then, right?”

“SHUT your damn mouth!” Nora snapped. “Don’t you dare compare yourself to him. You’re not Julian. You’re the heir, and with the Winthrops backing you, that’s worth more than anything.”

Marcus muttered under his breath, but she cut him off. “Fix this. If your father finds out, you’re dead.”

“Alright, alright,” he grumbled. “I’ll go talk to her.”

He hung up. Seconds later, his phone pinged—a buddy asking if he was still coming out for drinks.

Marcus smirked and typed back without hesitation: On my way.

Tossing the phone aside, he muttered, “Screw her. Why’s it always me crawling back to apologize? Not this time.”