Author Julie Johnson Novels & Stories

“Stay the hell out of this, Celeste.” “Oh, darling,” she cooed, taking a languid step closer. Her heels clicked against the marble, every sound a reminder she was still here, still haunting us. “This is my business. You see, Julian doesn’t like to share his skeletons, but I’ve danced with them all.” Her eyes flicked to him, sharp, triumphant. “Haven’t I?” Julian didn’t flinch, but I caught the muscle ticking in his jaw. That silence again. That brutal silence that made me want to scream.

He grabbed my hand again and stormed up the stairs, pulling me toward a private room like I was nothing more than a doll in his grip. And then I saw her. Julia. She was perched on the edge of a white velvet sofa, wearing a red dress that clung to every curve. She stood slowly, a sultry smile stretching across her face. “Ooh, babe,” she purred. “I heard your roar downstairs. Who dared make you angry?” Her voice dripped with honey, and she walked toward Stephen like she owned him, her fingers sliding over his chest like it was her territory. I didn’t know what came over me—but watching her touch him like that made my stomach turn. Something bitter bloomed in my chest. Jealousy? Disgust?

CHAPTER 12 ZYLIAH'S POV "Hi, I'm Julia. Julia Fawn." The cheerful auburn-haired realtor, wearing the warmest smile and hazel eyes that held a wise, keen gleam of intelligence, extended her hand for a handshake. Her welcoming demeanor coaxed a genuinely warm smile from me as I reached out and accepted her handshake. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Fawn." I noticed she wasn't wearing a wedding ring. "I'm Zyliah. Zyliah Davis."

Julia nodded smiling and slowly closed her eyes back to rest. "Here are the reports miss" Joyce said gently placing a stack of documents on Juliet's table. Juliet nodded and waved her away still concentrating on the file she was reading. Joyce bowed a little and left, as soon as she left Juliet grabbed the documents and began to go through the profiles of the staffs carefully. Then she found Julia ownand pulled it out of the lot with an evil grin. Name: Julia Bacock Age:30 Area of study: Finance Address: flat 305 Adrina complex

Liam burst into the parlor, his voice echoing before he even fully crossed the doorway. “Y’all are so boring! Two whole days before the submission deadline, and you’re just sitting here like hermits.” Julian didn’t so much as glance up. His laptop sat open on the low glass table, fingers flying across the keyboard, eyes narrowed in concentration. Veronica hovered near him, draped over the arm of the sofa like she owned the spot, leaning close enough to watch his screen though she clearly had no idea what he was typing.

JANE I heard the words leave my mouth before I could stop them. "It's only fair to end this with a little bit of crass, is it not?" His eyebrows went up. Interest flickered across his face. I stood, tucking the bills into my purse with deliberate slowness. Five hundred dollars. That was textbooks and maybe even groceries that weren't ramen. My hands weren't shaking anymore. I was Jailbird now. Fully Jailbird. Jane Puckett was locked away somewhere safe.

She had written the raw, unshielded truth of the man in the doorway. Exactly twenty minutes passed. Julian finally reached the end of the last page. He did not look up immediately. He set the stack of paper down in the exact center of the table. "Well?" Aurora asked. Her voice was a fragile whisper. Julian looked up. His dark eyes were intensely bright and completely unshielded. "The part about the smell," Julian said. "The pastry dough?" Aurora asked. "The way you described the reconstruction of the memory through the aromatics," Julian corrected gently.

“Arthur…” He offered a soft smile. “It felt right. After everything she’s been through. After everything you’ve been through.” Brandon looked between them, admiration warming his expression. “This is… incredible.” Julia reached for the folder, fingers trembling. “This is the first thing in weeks that feels like forward.” Arthur nodded once. “Then let’s build it.” === That evening, Julia sat on the floor of the living room with a small wooden box resting on her lap. Rain whispered against the windows, casting the room in a cool, muted glow.

Saying this, she very innocently extended her hand. Mr John glanced at the fair hands of his lovely wife where a wide bandage was visible at this time. On seeing this, his face suddenly became very stern. "How did all this happen?" he asked while looking at Mrs Julie from top to bottom. Although Mrs Julie had washed her face properly, a faint smell was coming from her hair which made Mr John feel as if something was burning. Her clothes also looked dirty. Instead of giving any answer, Mrs Julie started looking at Mr John with her big eyes as if a small child was looking at his parents after making a mistake.

“Mr. Johnson, it doesn’t matter if you don’t want to sit in my car. I’ll understand. I came here to pick up Ms. Stone. You’re just an add-on. If the add-on doesn’t want to be an add-on, then you can find your way back.” Julian spoke with a smile, but to Remy, every word sounded like thorns, pricking at his heart. Julian asked Elisa, “The suitcase in Mr. Johnson’s hand is yours, right? It’s pink so it should be yours. Girls like pink.”