Page 52 of Julian's Curse

“Why did you come here, James?” I narrowed my eyes, trying to see past his facade.

“Lucie,” he said gently, as if every word was laced with care. It almost seemed like he was about to reconsider telling me.

“What do you know?” Now that he knew about Julian’s problem, I needed to know what else was out there.

“Jazmin’s been doing drugs with him. She’s an ex-stripper who became huge after Julian’s agency discovered her. Apparently, he handpicked her himself.”

The name felt like a knife lodged in my chest. At this point, the anger inside me started to burn, pure and explosive. Jazmin? So, Julian had a female companion for his habits? Did he sleep with her at any point and not tell me? But I certainly wasn’t going to show James he’d hit me in my Achilles heel.

“Look, James, my private life is none of your business,” I snapped, my voice shaky, a mix of embarrassment. “You need to leave.”

He extended his hand to take mine. “I am here for you, like I once promised.”

I refused it, tears now welling up in my eyes.

“I will always feel awful about how things ended. I write about you in my music, because there’s no other girl I’ve ever known who has your kindness and sweetness combined.”

Was he shaking? I couldn’t tell if it was the words or the weight of the past that had him visibly affected. Damn, he’d really come here changed.

Whether I wanted to admit it or not, James knew me through and through. He understood my reactions, my defenses, the way I’d lash out when I was hurt. “I know,” I mustered a response. Ofcourse, there’d always be a part of me that would love him too, for everything that we’d been through before it blew up in our faces. “I have forgiven you,” I added. “But you can’t go around saying I am the inspiration for your music anymore. Please, James.”

He took another step toward me as if he’d stepped out of a memory long gone. And for some reason, I didn’t flinch away. It was as though I was revisiting my past, but from a completely different angle, seeing it through new eyes. It felt like a strange reconciliation, a chance to view everything we’d shared without the bitterness. For the first time in a while, I wasn’t just looking back—I wasre-seeingit all. His lips hovered just inches from mine, his gaze intense, as if he were drinking me in—each fleeting moment, each subtle shift of my expression. The air between us thickened, charged with something unsaid, something that hung heavily in the space we shared. Had he tried to lean in, I would have yanked myself away. But he didn’t make a move. “I am sorry, Lucie,” he whispered, his voice thick with regret. “But it’s the truth; I think about you each time I sit down to write music.”

My blood thrummed louder. It was just then that I suddenly heard the faint click of the lock, followed by the unmistakable sound of footsteps in the hallway. The noise was subtle but enough to send a jolt of panic through me. I knew his routine by heart, the subtle rhythm of his movements, the way the door would creak when he walked in, the shuffle of his shoes on the floor. I knew the sound of him settling in—how he’d drop his keys, toss his coat over the chair.

I turned away from James, my heart pounding in my chest, and quickly walked toward the staircase. “Julian,” I whispered, swallowing hard as the name caught in my throat.

James flinched, then realized who had just walked in. Julian came toward us, the embodiment of a powerful, no-nonsenseentrepreneur. Dressed in his sharp suit, tall and commanding, he exuded an aura of authority and danger—someone who didn’t mess around and got things done his way. His glare—ready to melt the gold frames on the wall—now burned everything in its path.

First, he gazed up at me without saying a word, his silence almost louder than anything he could have said. In that brief exchange, I felt it—the raw connection we’d always had, the kind of bond that wasn’t easily severed by time or distance. It wasn’t just familiarity; it was something deeper, an invisible bond that had always existed between us as if our souls had been tethered together long before this lifetime. Even with the intensity of his anger, I felt unafraid, as though I had the ability to diffuse it with just my presence.

But with that depth came discomfort, because Julian held the power to mirror back to me parts of myself that I wasn’t always ready to face. He didn’t just reflect who I was in the surface-level sense, but he revealed the shadows—those hidden fears, insecurities, and unresolved wounds that I’d long tried to bury. And right now, it was more than that; it was the raw, justified tangled mess of emotions that surged within. I felt insecure about Jazmin’s role in his life, certain that James hadn’t lied about it. I pursed my lips, now feeling like I had every right to be upset myself.

A muscle flexed in Julian’s jaw when he noticed James. “You can’t be serious, Lucie,” he growled, next, his eyes scanning my outfit with an intensity that made me feel exposed. It certainly wasn’t doing me any favors. I knew exactly what it looked like—disheveled, unkempt as if I’d had company overnight. “James came to visit me this morning,” I attempted an explanation, even though I wasn’t sure if Julian deserved it after me learning about Jazmin.

“I better head out,” James murmured, his voice tinged with apology directed at me. For a brief moment, I could see the hesitation in his eyes, as if he were debating whether to add,“Call for help, if you need,”but he wisely held back, sensing the fragile tension of the moment. But Julian had already caught his glance. His eyes narrowed, the unspoken tension between them suddenly palpable. “What the fuck are you doing in my house with my girl?” He roared.

This wasn’t going to be an easy exit…

“Bro, you need to calm down,” James stepped back with his hands slightly raised in a gesture of peace. His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it. “I came to talk with Lucie about the mess online, while you were busy most likely snorting drugs somewhere.”

Bad choice of words. With a furious growl, Julian lunged at James, using all his strength to try and pin him against the wall. But James wasn’t a stranger to physical confrontation. He’d been in his fair share of fights, and he was quick to react. As Julian’s body collided with his, he twisted out of the way, his reflexes sharp and practiced.

“Stop, let him go” I tried to grab Julian by the arm.

“Get out of the way, Lucie.” He ordered me, and I couldn’t help but notice he put his hand protectively over my stomach.

“You want a fight, we can have a fight,” James seemed now ready for a confrontation. The air around them crackled with aggression, and I could feel the pulse of danger in my chest as they circled one another.

A sickening crunch ripped the air, followed by a howl. James’s blood spurted everywhere.

“I know enough about how you treated Lucie to know that I’ll never let you come close to her,” Julian’s voice was cold, but his words hit with the force of a slap. “You’re not welcome in our home.” Though powerful, he was fueled by emotion, and I hopedit wouldn’t cloud his judgment to do something that would result in a lawsuit.

“Julian, it’s fine, I put that behind me,” I said softly. “He’s going to leave now.” Julian was referring to the incident when James broke my phone and hurt my wrist while trying to restrain it.

James, still reeling from the tension and physical struggle, stood frozen for a second, the gravity of the accusation sinking in. His mouth opened, but no words came out—he knew better than to try and justify himself now. Just then, Julian aimed another punch at him, and he barely ducked in time, the punch missing by mere inches. The force of the swing sent Julian off balance for a brief moment, but he quickly regained his stance, his eyes locked on James with a renewed fury. James didn’t waste a second, his body reacting instinctively. He sidestepped, putting distance between them, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths.

“I care about her,” James exclaimed, his voice sharp. He showed no signs of fear, while the potent smell of blood filled the air. Next, he took a step closer, his posture firm. “At least I’m not leading her on, as I keep prostitutes on the side. Don’t pretend you’re a saint, Valmont.”

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