Ch35 - Shouldn’t be her

Julian set his glass down, his long, narrow eyes cutting toward the man who’d just spoken.

His lips pressed into a hard line—then his hand slid down and found Violet’s, fingers closing around hers.

Henri didn’t notice the sudden tension that swept the table; he was too busy lifting his drink and laughing to himself.

Antoine snapped his fingers sharply. “Hey. Watch your mouth. One wrong word from you and you’ll screw up a deal worth millions.”

Henri turned back lazily, unfazed. “Relax. Just saying she looked familiar, that’s all.”

They spoke in French, the words quick and smooth.

“Familiar?” Antoine arched a brow. “Don’t start your usual crap. She’s someone else’s date. You’re old enough to be her father.”

Henri smirked. “Oh? Sugar daddy kind of father, maybe?”

Julian’s eyes went cold. His reply, in flawless French, cut through the air like ice: “Your joke isn’t funny.”

That stopped Henri for a beat. A flicker of unease passed through his face before he forced a grin. “Apologies.”

Julian rose from the water in one fluid motion, then reached for Violet, lifting her easily into his arms. “Excuse us.”

A few startled glances followed as they stepped out of the hot tub. He moved in front of her, his body shielding her from the stares. A staff member hurried over with clean towels, and Julian wrapped one around Violet, tucking it carefully around her shoulders before grabbing another to dry himself.

Back in the water, Henri’s gaze still lingered on Violet as she walked away. He muttered under his breath to Antoine, “She’s just a date. Does he really need to act like that?”

Antoine shrugged. “Don’t be an idiot. We need Medi AI’s latest tech more than he needs us. Don’t mess it up.”

Henri chuckled lowly, eyes narrowing as he took another sip. “Relax. I know my limits.”

From the far end of the pool, Lydia climbed out, water dripping down her arms. Her eyes instinctively searched for Julian—

and froze.

There he was. Standing a few feet away, gently toweling Violet dry. The way his hands moved, careful and deliberate, the warmth in his expression… it was a side of him Lydia had never seen before.

Julian had never treated any woman with that kind of tenderness.

Something heavy lodged in her chest—jealousy, anger, something she couldn’t quite name. It burned like a stone pressing against her ribs.

A towel suddenly landed over her head. “The hell—what are you doing?” she snapped, yanking it off.

Felix, still dripping himself, was drying his own hair with another towel. “You just got out of the water. You wanna catch a cold or what?”

Her grip tightened around the towel, knuckles whitening. Standing there, alone and wet, she suddenly felt ridiculous—especially when, just a few yards away, Julian and Violet looked like a scene straight out of a romance ad.

Felix noticed her expression, followed her gaze, and let out a low whistle. “Ah,” he said slowly, voice edged with amusement. “Some things just aren’t meant to be forced, you know.”

“WHAT the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Lydia spun around, eyes flashing.

Felix shrugged, tossing his towel aside and pulling a hoodie over his head. “I mean stop coveting what isn’t yours. Julian’s married now. Time you let it go. Stop looking at him like he’s your second chance to fix what you never got over.”

Her brows furrowed, jaw tight. “DON’T talk nonsense. I’ve always treated him like a brother.”

“Brother?” Felix laughed once, soft but disbelieving. “Please. You might fool the others, but not me. I’ve known you too long.”

He sighed, pried the towel from her clenched hand, and started dabbing the water off her arms. She is shaking—may be cold, or just pissed.

Lydia said nothing.

“Ever since you found out he got married, you’ve been… different,” Felix went on, tone gentler now. “He’s had flings before, but you never cared like this.”

Lydia drew a deep breath, trying to steady it but failing. “I just don’t trust that woman,” she muttered. “No one even knows where she came from. Julian’s worked too hard building everything from scratch. What if she ruins it?”

“Maybe stop worrying about him for once,” Felix said, handing her a smaller towel for her hair. “He’s got his own plans.”

Her lips curled into a bitter half-smile as she mumbled, almost to herself, “He said he’d never fall for anyone until he got his revenge.”

Felix lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe fate doesn’t care about revenge. Maybe you should be happy for him—finally meeting someone who makes him feel something again. You really wanna see him stay cold and empty forever?”

For a moment, her expression softened. Her eyes went unfocused, somewhere far away.

But then she caught sight of Violet, slipping quietly into the house alone.

Lydia’s features hardened all over again. “It just shouldn’t be her,” she hissed. “She’s NOT good enough for him.”

She ripped the towel off her head and threw it onto the ground, stomping off.

Felix grabbed her wrist before she got far. “Whoa, where do you think you’re going?”

“Bathroom,” she said through clenched teeth. “You planning to come with me?”

He let go immediately. “Yeah, no thanks. Not my kink.”

As she walked off, he called after her, “Don’t take forever! I’m heading to the BBQ—need food before I have to deal with more drama tonight!”

——

Violet splashed some cold water on her face, staring at her reflection. The alcohol haze was finally wearing off, but her mind was still looping that kiss—cool yet searing, her pulse pounding so hard she could hear it. 

She let the water run over her fingers, zoning out completely until the sound snapped her back. With a slow breath, she shut the tap, dried her hands, and reached for the door—only to find someone standing right outside.

Lydia. Arms crossed, back against the wall.

Violet froze, hand on the doorknob. “Do you… need to use the bathroom?”

Lydia gave a short, disdainful hum. “My house has nine bathrooms. If that’s all I wanted, I wouldn’t be standing here.”

Violet didn’t doubt it. Lydia wasn’t here to show off her real-estate portfolio. Relaxing her grip, she let the door click shut behind her. “Then I’ll just get out of your way.”

But before she could take another step, Lydia’s voice cut through the hallway air. “You married Julian for money, didn’t you? Tell me how much you want. I’ll pay you double.”

The silence that followed was sharp enough to sting.

Violet turned around, brows knitting. “Didn’t Julian ever tell you? Guess you two aren’t as close as you think.”

Lydia’s expression twisted, fury leaking into her tone. “So you admit it. You did do it for money. There are plenty of richer men out there—why him?”

Violet’s voice was quiet, calm. “There’s no why.”

“Don’t fool yourself,” Lydia snapped, stepping off the wall, voice rising with every word. “He’s not serious about you. Whatever he’s done with you—he’s done with dozens of other women. You won’t be the last.”

The blush that had lingered on Violet’s face was gone, replaced by an eerie composure. “Thanks for the warning,” she said softly.

“You—” Lydia’s breath caught. She’d come ready for a fight, ready to watch Violet crumble, but instead it felt like punching smoke. Every word landed nowhere, leaving her frustrated and seething.

She pulled out her phone, tapping furiously, and shoved the screen toward Violet. “Fine. See for yourself. This is the real Julian.”

From the first second of the video, laughter—a high, silvery giggle filled the air. The camera panned to a man’s striking face, familiar down to the small mole beneath his eye. His shirt was unbuttoned, collar open.

A woman sat pressed against him, her manicured fingers tracing along his chest. He caught her hand, smirking, a dimple flashing. “Behave.”

“You haven’t seen me in forever,” she pouted. “You owe me.”

“Sure,” he said lazily. “Whatever you want—it’s on me.”

The woman giggled, radiant and flirtatious.

Julian’s narrow eyes flicked toward the camera. “Matt, stop filming.”

Matt’s voice came from behind the lens, teasing, “No way. I’m posting this. Let’s see how long this one lasts!”

The woman grabbed Julian’s face between her hands, pouting playfully. “I’m gonna be the last one, right?”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t push her away either. Just watched her—eyes half-lidded, smiling faintly.

The camera wobbled, and the video cut off there. Nothing more was shown, but it was enough to leave the rest to the imagination.

On the dark screen, Violet saw her own reflection. Calm, expressionless. It wasn’t shocking. Julian had always been drawn to women like that—bright, bold, beautiful like roses in full bloom. 

In that video, he looked free, at ease, the kind of man who knew one glance, one curve of a smile, could make anyone fall straight into his fire.