Ch40 - Karma

The chaos finally died down.

Violet followed Julian toward the parking area. He glanced around once. “Where’s your driver?”

“They made us park outside earlier—there wasn’t any space left,” she said quietly.

Julian pressed his lips together, said nothing, then motioned toward his own car. “If you’ve got everything, get in. I’ll cover the cost of your clothes.”

She hadn’t brought anything except her phone, which was still in her hand, so she simply nodded and got in.

When the door shut, silence settled in—thicker than before. 

At least earlier there’d been the faint sound of laughter, music, trees rustling. Now it was just the two of them, and the echo of what had just happened. She’d watched Julian and his friends argue, stuck on the sidelines, not knowing where to look.

Julian looked like he wanted to say something, but instead just reached for a blanket and draped it over her legs. Then he tapped a few times on the console screen, and soft music began to fill the space.

When she turned, he was already leaning back, eyes half-closed, exhaustion written all over his face.

Her mind replayed what she’d seen earlier—the conversation between Lydia and Henri in the courtyard. 

She hadn’t just seen it. She’d understood it. 

Her mother had raised her bilingual, French and English, until she was nine, and though she was rusty, she still caught the key words. Lydia had said, “I’ll send her up to you later.”

That phrase could’ve meant anything, but paired with Henri’s predatory stare and Lydia later telling her, “Julian’s upstairs waiting for you,” it was enough for Violet to see the setup. Lydia wanted her to end up in Henri’s room—alone.

At first, Violet thought it was some stupid prank. She didn’t go upstairs like Lydia told her. 

She lingered in the front garden instead and happened to run into Julian, who’d just finished talking with someone. When he said it was time to go and told her to change, he got a sudden call from Felix—urgent.

So when she followed Julian upstairs a few minutes later, they walked straight into that shocking scene. That’s when it hit her—Lydia had set this up, wanted Henri to trap her, to stage a scene they could later use against her.

But because She never went up, Lydia ended up walking into her own trap. Henri thought Lydia was her.

When Violet saw Lydia’s torn clothes and the wrecked look on her face, she’d frozen. Fear, pity, disbelief—everything tangled together. She helped Lydia fix her clothes, her face tense and focused. But apparently that look had been misread.

When Lydia had asked, “Did you figure it out?”

Violet looked up. In those frantic eyes, there was none of Lydia’s earlier arrogance—only panic and humiliation. For a second, Violet actually felt sorry for her. Lydia had meant to humiliate her, but now she’d become the victim herself. So Violet had pretended ignorance and replied evenly, “Figure out what?”

And later came Antoine. The shouting. Lydia’s meltdown.

That was when Violet finally understood what Lydia had meant before—when she’d said her relationship with Julian was “special.” It wasn’t romance at all. It was because of his brother, Victor.

“Nothing you wanna tell me?”

The lazy drawl cut straight through Violet’s thoughts. She looked over — Julian hadn’t moved, eyes still closed, his voice calm but edged with quiet weight.

Violet thought back to what she’d pieced together — Lydia’s connection to Julian’s brother, and how she’d helped him before. From the way Lydia talked, it was obvious she wasn’t just some long-time friend. She mattered to him — more than she ever would.

And herself? She did the math — ten more months before their contract ended, before they’d go their separate ways like strangers. Was there even a point in telling him what really happened tonight? Would he believe her? And if he did… what then? Lydia had already paid for what she tried to do.

She turned her gaze forward again. “No. Nothing.”

Julian cracked one eye open and gave her a quick look.

The silence broke when his phone rang. Whatever was said on the other end made him smirk. “Oh? No wonder he’s been quiet lately — turns out there’s a baby on the way.”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, get a gift ready for me… What do people even buy for that? Forget it, you handle it.”

But after a few seconds of listening, he frowned, then glanced sideways at Violet and said into the phone, “You know what, never mind. I’ll take care of it myself.”

When he hung up, he turned to her. “Do me a favor — pick out a newborn gift.”

“Sure. Is it for a boy or a girl?”

Julian paused — he hadn’t even thought about that. It didn’t really matter to him. “No idea. Craig and the guys said they’ve never bought baby stuff before and don’t wanna screw it up, so… I’ll leave it to you.”

“Alright. When do you need it by?” Violet asked, thoughtful as always.

“By next Tuesday.”

She nodded, quietly counting on her fingers. Four days. Enough time to get it done.

——

At Marcus’s place, he stood in the middle of the nursery, frowning at the latest addition to the house. No matter how many times he tried to move the crib, it still didn’t look right.

“Screw it,” he muttered finally. “Leave it for now—we’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

At his cue, the house staff holding the crib—who’d been awkwardly keeping it suspended midair—carefully set it back down.

“Get the butler,” Marcus said.

The butler, who’d been down the hall checking inventory, immediately stopped what he was doing and came in. “Yes, sir. Is there something missing? I can have it arranged right away.”

Marcus’s recent fussiness no longer surprised anyone. The butler had learned to ask this question on autopilot.

Marcus rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “All this furniture’s brand new. The wood — it won’t be harmful to the baby, will it?”

The butler froze for half a second, then recovered his professional tone. 

“Rest assured, sir, everything here has passed the highest safety standards. And in any case, this nursery won’t actually be used for at least another seven months. But if it’ll put your mind at ease, we can have a specialist come in to test everything once it’s all set up.”

First-time dads always got anxious, but Mr. Marcus took it to another level. He was handling everything himself — even moving houses just to get a single-floor apartment, saying it’d be safer, easier to watch the baby, and more convenient once the kid started walking. He’d even researched the best preschools and daycare centers nearby.

The balcony? Already planned out to become a mini playground.

The butler stood nearby, ready to jot down any new requests.

Marcus was still scanning the room, deciding what else to add, when a maid hurried in. “Sir, your mother’s here.”

Marcus frowned. What’s she doing here?

Before he could even react, Nora swept in — not waiting for the maid to finish the announcement.

The moment she stepped inside, her gaze swept across the room full of baby items. Whatever doubts she’d had were instantly confirmed.

She steadied herself, pressing down the flare of emotion in her chest, and smiled politely at the staff. “Thank you, everyone. I need a moment alone with Marcus.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Even without her asking, the butler and maids began quietly clearing out. Still, a few of them couldn’t help thinking the same thing: Nora was always so graceful, always so kind — even now, she managed to sound warm and gentle.