Ch26 - The stunt

They walked out hand in hand, looking every bit the picture-perfect couple. Julian hadn’t told Craig to clear the reporters—he actually wanted to see what the hell kind of stunt the people behind this were trying to pull.

Once they got in the car and the doors shut, their hands naturally drifted apart. Violet let out a tiny sigh of relief, quiet enough that most people wouldn’t have noticed—but Julian did.

His voice came low and lazy, still rough from sleep. “What’s this? The more we play pretend, the worse you get at it?”

He remembered perfectly well how calm she’d been around him before.

“I’ll do better next time,” Violet said, straightening in her seat, subtly putting a few extra inches between them.

He noticed—and one eyebrow lifted.

The car pulled away toward Ashford headquarters. Violet fidgeted with her fingers, heart pounding. “There’s something important I want to ask you about.”

Julian leaned his head against his hand, eyes half on the passing streets. “Go ahead.”

She took a slow breath, choosing her words carefully. “I heard Ashford Biotech’s developing a gene therapy treatment.”

His hand stilled mid-motion. He turned to look at her, studying her expression. “Where’d you hear that? The program’s for lysosomal storage disorders—it’s pretty damn niche. But yeah, we’ve made some progress.”

Her eyes lit up, full of fragile hope. “Then… is there any way to get someone into the clinical trial? My cousin, Lilia—she’s been diagnosed with it. I just want to help her.”

Julian sat up straighter, the casualness gone. “The clinical slots… as far as I know, they’re already full. Most of them went to political and corporate connections.”

Ashford Biotech had built its empire on essential meds, but half the company’s prestige now came from rare disease research. And Marcus—of course—used those trials as bargaining chips to grease hands in high places.

Officially, applications were ‘open to the public.’ In reality, sixty percent were fixed before they even hit the system.

“I see…” Violet’s voice softened, eyes dimming. She tried to smile, but it didn’t quite hold.

Julian’s tone dropped lower. “I’m in marketing now. Not much power to move things around—and everyone’s watching the project closely.”

He caught the flicker of disappointment on her face, and after a pause, his voice gentled. “Still, since it’s important to you, I’ll see what I can find out.”

Violet nodded, grateful even though she knew his influence had limits. He might be an Ashford by name, but he wasn’t one of the top decision-makers. Still, he was willing to try for her, and that meant something.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “If it could save her… I’d do anything. Even if it means changing our contract, or adding conditions, I—”

“What kind of conditions?” Julian interrupted, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Whatever it takes,” she murmured, eyes downcast, twisting her fingers nervously. She couldn’t bring herself to say it outright—but if saving a life meant giving up more of herself, she would.

Something warm pressed lightly against her head, interrupting her thoughts. His hand.

“Don’t overthink it,” Julian said softly. “We’ll figure something out.”

He gave her hair a small, almost careless ruffle before pulling his hand away.

When Violet finally looked up, he was already stepping out of the car, leaving her with nothing but his tall, effortless silhouette disappearing into the building.

——

In Marcus’s office, a sharp crack echoed as he crushed the stack of photos in his fist. The prints had landed on his desk barely two minutes ago—one glance was all it took for his expression to freeze, then twist into fury. 

He hurled the crumpled mess across the room, where it hit the floor and rolled to a stop.

Even from a distance, the glossy paper gleamed under the light—just enough to make out a hotel lobby in the background.

He snatched up his phone, jaw tight, and barked into it, “YOU IDIOTS! That’s his wife! Are you all brain-dead? You spent the whole damn night staking out a hotel and came back with pictures of Julian and his wife? I asked for evidence of an affair, not a fucking honeymoon shoot!”

On the other end, Matt nearly dropped his phone. He was halfway to an afterparty, expecting praise—not getting his eardrums blown out.

“WAIT—what? His wife? Since when the hell did Julian get married?” Matt stammered, voice cracking. “You sure you didn’t mix them up?”

He’d seen the photos before sending them over—Julian walking out of the hotel with that woman from the bar, the one who’d been waitressing a few weeks ago. How the hell could she be his wife?

Marcus’s voice came back seething, dripping venom. “ARE you fucking stupid? I was at their wedding, you moron. You think I don’t recognize her? Try using that lump of meat between your ears before speaking.”

Another round of curses poured through the line before—click.

Matt stared at his phone, stunned. What the hell was happening? Nothing about this made sense. He was one of Julian’s closest friends—they drank together, partied together. How could Julian be married without him knowing? And to that girl of all people? They’d barely met! It didn’t add up.

Still fuming, he dialed Tiffany’s number. No answer. Two hours later, his phone finally buzzed.

“For fuck’s sake, you nearly got me killed last night,” he snapped the moment she picked up. “What the hell happened?”

“I should be asking you! I went in, and before I could do anything, Julian vomited all over me. I ran to clean up, and when I came out, his psycho bodyguards dragged me out like I was breaking in!” Tiffany’s voice shook with anger.

“You couldn’t call me?”

“Oh, believe me, I tried! They had eyes on me the whole damn time. Took my phone, searched my bag—only left me alone just a minute ago.” She gritted her teeth. The humiliation burned. She’d walked out of that hotel in nothing but a bathrobe, in front of who knows how many people.

All because of that woman. Violet.

Why did she get to stay? Why did she get to be the one by Julian’s side while I got thrown out like trash? The more Tiffany thought about it, the more her blood boiled.

Matt sighed. Now that he knew what had happened, the whole thing was useless to him. The deal had been simple—Tiffany was supposed to get something out of Julian, anything that could stir trouble. She’d failed, so what was the point? 

“Forget it. We’re done here.”

“Wait—what’s with that tone?” Tiffany shot back, voice sharp. “If anyone should be pissed, it’s me! You said everything was arranged, and now I’m the one who looks like a damn idiot.”

“I’m not exactly thrilled either, you know.”

“Oh, please,” she snapped. “You didn’t lose anything. You didn’t pay me, and you sure as hell didn’t get puked on. All you’re missing are a few stupid pictures you wanted for your ‘little prank’ on Julian.” 

Her tone turned suspicious. “You’re acting like it’s more than that. What aren’t you telling me?”

Matt rubbed his temple, exhaling hard. “It’s… complicated, alright? Just drop it.”

He wasn’t about to explain that the whole stunt had been Marcus’s idea, and that it had just backfired spectacularly. Tiffany wasn’t part of their world—she was a distraction, a prop, and now a liability. Pretty, sure, but replaceable.

“Fine,” she said coldly. “Then at least get me Julian’s schedule. I can try again.”

“Yeah, no. Not happening.” Matt’s reply was instant. “We’re done with that. Plans changed.”

Before she could respond, he cut her off. “Crap—getting another call. Gotta run. Talk later.”

He hung up before she could say another word.