Page 47 of Julian's Curse

I nodded vigorously because there was nothing else I could do. Having someone dissect my life in the public eye was alwaysunbearable. At least Amanda had given me a generous heads-up, and I could choose what to do with it.

“I’ve been traveling a lot, but I’ll be around much more often if you ever need to talk,” Amanda’s gaze flicked back to me. “You’ve been an invaluable asset to my company, Lucie, and I’ll make sure everything’s taken care of to keep it that way.”

Her words brought a sense of relief. Amanda’s absence had left me feeling even more isolated, so her return lifted my spirits. If only she knew the mess I’d gotten myself into. “Thanks, Amanda,” I said quietly. “I appreciate you telling me about James in advance.”

As I walked out of her office, the pressure of the looming article—and the chaos in my own life—still hung heavy. It was clear I was about to face a storm, but for the first time in weeks, I felt Amanda’s camaraderie. In that moment, I found myself wanting to be a bit more like her—strong, unshakable, a force to be reckoned with. It wasn’t much, but it was a spark of determination, a reminder that I had the potential to weather whatever came next.

By the endof the workday, I finally decided to head over to Julian’s office. Will was still upset about my sudden disappearance, and with the trust between us fractured, he was on edge, more watchful than usual. But, seeing me go to a familiar place, he seemingly relaxed a little.

Arriving at Julian’s office was a reminder of how powerful my fiancée was. The blue logo of Valmont Investment Company stood out against the skyline, its signature color glowing brightly in the distance, a symbol of the company’s reach and influence.Using the usual code, I took the elevator up to Julian’s office in hopes that his secretary would be there and know where to find his gift.

And she was. The pretty blonde, always impeccably put together, greeted me with a rush of excitement as if my arrival had broken the monotony of the evening. “Really good to see you, Lucie.”

We’d become somewhat of friends over the course of time. I often brought her surprise gifts, knowing well that working for Julian was not always a fun job.

“Thanks, Carolyn, are you working late today?” I shot her an empathetic glance.

“Yes,” she smiled faintly. “There’ve been a lot of calls about Julian’s sudden absence. My job is to make sure everything goes smoothly despite it. But if you’re here for the gift, he’s left it on his desk. I was expecting to see you here per his instructions.”

I sent her a grateful glance before continuing on. What could Julian possibly leave me with? With a sense of anticipation, I pushed open the heavy mahogany door, its polished surface gleaming under the soft light. The plaque beside it read “CEO & President” in bold letters, a reminder of the responsibility Julian held even at his lowest point.

I made my way to his desk, noticing a large, decorated bag resting on top of it. The bag was elegant, its intricate design suggesting something special inside. As I approached it, my curiosity only grew. The tag was simple, and it just saidFor Lucie, With Love, Julian.

Pulling out the contents, my eyes widened in surprise—it was ahistorical copyofThe Lady of the Camelliasfrom 1848. My gram was French, and she was the one who had introduced me to the book, sparking a love for its story that stayed with me ever since. The leather-bound book aged beautifully, with gold embossing on the cover. This wasn’t just any edition; it was arare first printing, the kind of book that would be cherished by collectors and lovers of literature alike. In awe, I opened its first page.

Dear Lucie, je ne suis pas une sainte, mais je vous ai aimé de tout mon cœur.He’d handwritten in French despite not speaking the language.This was a quote from the actual story, and it translated into“I am not a saint, but I have loved you with all my heart.”What made it even more touching was that the original French was written from a woman’s perspective. It was a detail that Julian couldn’t have known as he didn’t speak French, but it made the gesture even more endearing that he’d tried to do this all by himself.Thank you for standing by me at a moment when I disappointed you. Julian.The dedication continued.

This was such a thoughtful gift, him remembering my favorite love story in French literature and then going all the way to find this rare copy. My eyes prickled with tears at the realization that he was trying this hard to mend us.

I could no longer keep the truth away from him, no matter how far along he was in his recovery. I was too far along myself not to make this my priority. Our baby was too important to keep it away from him.

Tomorrow morning, I’d call my fiancée, I promised myself. The rehab would find a way to connect us, and we’d have a heart-to-heart conversation I’d been avoiding —about possibly becoming parents. He’d most likely cry to find out that he could be a dad. I’d tell Julian about James, and how I’d tried to shut down any rumors, but hadn’t succeeded. I knew he’d shrug it off as if to say that relationship was long gone, buried in my past.

Ihad a deep night of sleep, given how fatigued my body was. No matter how hard I tried to start my mornings without technology, curiosity always seemed to get the best of me. Instinctively, I reached for the cell on my nightstand first, my fingers brushing the device before my eyes had fully opened. The blue light felt harsh, just another reminder to adopt healthier habits.

“Honey, is Sophie at your place?” Elisabeth, Sophie’s mom, had texted around 6 AM.

I rubbed my eyes because they felt dry, even itchy, possibly from some type of contact dermatitis. Could it be my night cream? At least my angular cheilitis had finally healed up. My bet was that Sophie had forgotten to tell her mom that she and Mark would be together, and now, maybe she was asleep not reading her messages.

“I am sorry, but she is not here. But I am sure she’s with Mark.” I contemplated in my response immediately. I wouldn’t leave her mom hanging as she was a constant worrier. Having a daughter with such a serious medical condition was tough enough on her.

“Mark doesn’t know where she is,” her mom texted instantly. “She didn’t come home yesterday.”

I frowned because it was unusual for Sophie to go off the grid. Where would she have gone?

“I’ll text a few of our mutual friends,” I let her know immediately, as my phone began to ring. It was Mark himself. The moment I saw his name, the gravity of the situation hit me.

“Hey Lucie,” he blurted out in an anxious tone. “When was the last time you saw Sophie?” He didn’t even wait for me to say hi.

Upon hearing his desperation, I responded immediately. “Yesterday,” the last time I heard from her was when I was at Planned Parenthood. “We texted in the morning.”

“She’s missing,” he wailed. “I went everywhere, including her brokerage. Do you know if she has any places where she’d be hiding?”

Even if Sophie had such a place, I doubted that she’d vanish from the people she loved.

“I don’t know Mark, but disappearing on everyone doesn’t seem like her. When was the last time you spoke with her?”

“She had a showing with a client at 6 PM. She called me right before.”

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