Ch36 - Filthy deal

Violet’s fingers brushed lightly against her lips.

That kiss—of course. To him, it had probably meant nothing more than a game. The same confidence, the same predatory ease he used with any woman he wanted.

Lydia slipped her phone back into her clutch. “Now you’ve seen it for yourself. There are plenty more videos like that. And what you don’t see on camera—well, that’s even worse.”

Violet raised her eyes slowly. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

Lydia tilted her chin toward the backyard. “You see that man out there?”

Violet followed her gaze. It landed on Henri—the same man from the hot tub—pacing the backyard with a glass in hand, scanning the crowd.

“That’s Henri. One of the top execs of France’s biggest private fund. His family’s tied to the  medical network across Europe—exactly the kind of connection Julian’s Medi AI company needs. With their backing, Julian’s businesses could expand into Europe overnight. He’d never have to bow to his stepmother or cousin again.”

She leaned closer, voice dipped in a sweet, poisonous whisper. “You know why Julian brought you here tonight, don’t you? He doesn’t do anything without a reason. A woman on his arm isn’t just decoration—it’s strategy.”

The words were meant to sting, to twist the knife.

Violet’s lashes flickered, but her tone stayed mild. “If that’s what you really think, why didn’t you help him out instead—since you’re such a good friend?”

Lydia’s smile turned sharp. “PLEASE. I’m a Haverford. I don’t need to do something that filthy.”

Violet’s voice was calm, almost gentle. “You call it filthy, yet you’re the one suggesting a married woman do it.”

For a moment, Lydia just stared at her, thrown off balance. Was this really coming from the same soft-spoken girl she’d met earlier? With that quiet tone, Violet could’ve been reading a grocery list—yet somehow, every word landed like a slap.

Lydia gave a cold little laugh. “You’ve got no family backing, no real talent. What else can you offer him, huh? Being Mrs. Ashford isn’t as easy as it looks. Maybe start by being useful.”

“Miss Haverford,” Violet said, her voice steady but cool, “you don’t need to keep reminding me what to do. If Julian wants something from me, he’ll tell me himself. The rest isn’t your concern.”

Lydia’s brow arched. “Oh? So whatever he says—you just do it? That’s pathetic.”

She said it with a sneer, hoping to provoke something: anger, tears, anything.

Pathetic. The word echoed in Violet’s mind. Maybe Lydia wasn’t entirely wrong. Their relationship was transactional, plain and simple. Julian was the employer; she was the employee.

Being his wife, even in name, was never something she took pride in. If anything, it felt like a weight—one that made her an easy target.

The fact that even his family barely knew about the marriage said enough. Whatever this union was, it served a purpose—likely business, maybe even those shares. And now, the pieces were coming together: Medi AI, his ambition, the invitation tonight.

A hand suddenly waved in front of her face. “Hey,” Lydia snapped. “I’m talking to you. What are you zoning out for?”

Violet blinked, her gaze lifting lazily. “Oh. Sorry. You’re right about everything—if that makes you feel better.”

Lydia blinked, taken aback, the fight in her chest collapsing on itself. “You… ugh, forget it! Talking to you is like talking to a wall. You’re so boring!”

With an indignant huff, she spun on her heel and stormed off, her heels clicking angrily against the marble floor.

Violet watched her go, half amused, half weary.

This wasn’t the first time she’d seen how Julian’s charm could stir up storms—and it sure wouldn’t be the last.

 —

Felix craned his neck, eyes scanning the crowd until he finally spotted Lydia walking back. He waved the fork in his hand, the shrimp on it wobbling dangerously close to falling off.

“Where the hell were you? Thought you fell into the damn toilet,” he said, grinning.

“Go to hell,” Lydia snapped. “You’re the one who’d fall in.”

Felix raised an eyebrow, unbothered. “Jeez, you’re grumpy tonight. Here, I brought food. Try one—it’s actually good.”

He held the fork up to her mouth. Lydia gave him a flat look, then leaned forward and bit the shrimp clean off the fork, like she was biting him.

It was fresh—sweet, firm, perfectly cooked. The shrimp had been delivered just two hours earlier. For a moment, even she couldn’t help enjoying it. Her expression softened slightly. “Not bad.”

Felix smirked. “There’s more where that came from.” He peeled a few more shrimp and handed them over.

Lydia took the plate from him. “I’ll bring these to Julian.”

He didn’t argue—just handed the plate over quietly. He was used to it by now. Whenever Julian was around, Lydia’s world shrank to a single orbit.

She made her way toward the far end of the garden, where Julian was talking to a few guests. Standing in front of him, she held out the plate. “You’ve been drinking all night. Eat something.”

Julian accepted the dish but didn’t take a bite. His eyes flicked past her shoulder. “Have you seen Violet?”

Lydia pressed her lips together, tone deliberately casual. “No idea. Maybe she felt out of place and went home.”

Julian’s hand stilled around the glass. “What did you say to her?”

Lydia twirled a strand of hair around her finger, looking anywhere but at him.

His brows drew tight. “Don’t start filling her head with nonsense. She doesn’t know everything.”

Lydia’s head jerked up, surprised. “Wait—you haven’t told her? About your companies, your plans, who these people even are?”

She trailed off as his silence gave her the answer.

And oh, what a satisfying one it was.

Of course. No wonder Violet always looked so clueless. She didn’t know him—not the real him.

A smug little smile crept onto Lydia’s lips. So she’d been right all along. Julian hadn’t married Violet because she was special. The girl was just convenient—a pawn. And one day, like all the others before her, she’d be replaced.

Julian downed what was left in his glass, then said evenly, “If you see Violet later, tell her I want to talk.”

“Of course,” Lydia replied smoothly, eager, as if granted a secret assignment.

Julian gave a curt nod, pressed his lips together, and turned away—heading toward the other side of the courtyard to rejoin the investors.

Lydia stood there, a quiet glint of triumph flickering in her eyes.

 —

Violet waited inside for a while before finally stepping back out into the courtyard.

The moment she looked up, she caught sight of Lydia standing close to Henri, the two of them murmuring something to each other in low voices. When they noticed Violet’s appearance, they both turned, exchanged a glance, and smiled—one of those smiles that felt sharp beneath the surface, more taunting than polite.

They deliberately kept speaking in French.

Henri’s eyes flicked toward Violet again, his grin widening like he’d found something amusing. Then he turned back to Lydia and switched to English. “Thank you for hosting such a wonderful evening. I’d say this is the best time I’ve had in months.”

Lydia tossed her hair over her shoulder, flashing a self-satisfied smile. “Oh, it’s nothing. Friends help friends. Besides, this is just one of my villas.”

Violet tugged her robe a little tighter and walked past them without a word, heading toward the food station. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Julian across the courtyard, deep in conversation with a few men—never once glancing her way.

Just as she reached for a serving tong, Felix appeared beside her, holding a plate and a lopsided grin.

“Try this,” he said, dropping a few slices of grilled steak onto her plate. “Perfectly done.”

“Thank you,” Violet said softly, her tone polite but distant.

Felix studied her for a second, then glanced around, making sure Lydia wasn’t nearby before leaning in a little. “Hey, don’t take whatever Lydia said to heart, alright? She’s been forced back into her family’s business lately, so her mood’s been… well, shit. She gets mouthy when she’s stressed. If she said something outta line, I’ll apologize for her.”

Violet gave him a small smile. “It’s fine. I don’t take things like that personally.”

Felix blinked, taken aback by her composure. He suddenly felt that maybe Lydia was wrong—Violet didn’t seem like someone unworthy of Julian. If anything, she had this quiet strength about her. Maybe that was exactly what Julian needed.

Just then, Lydia, who had been watching from a distance, decided she’d seen enough. The sight of them talking so comfortably made her blood prickle. She strutted over, looping her arm possessively through Felix’s.

“So,” she said sweetly, “what else is good here?”

Felix didn’t catch her tone at first. “The lamb’s pretty great,” he replied. “You should try it. You too, Violet.”

Lydia shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass and “accidentally” bumped his side with her elbow.

Felix sighed, “Alright, alright… I’ll grab you some.”

He looked over at Violet, gave her an apologetic little smile, then turned toward the grill.