Page 53 of Julian's Curse

My pulse drummed. This was not going to end well. And whose side was I on? If what James said was right, he’d come with the intention to help. Julian lounged at him again, this time managing to hit James hard enough so he sank to the ground, his jaw bleeding enough to send him to the ER right away.

“Please stop now,” I cried out desperately. I ran to James, while I tried to pick him up.

“Get out of the way, please, Lucie.” Julian rolled up his sleeves as if he was just beginning the fight. Clearly, he’d come here to get his retribution.

James took a few seconds to gather himself as Julian watched him with narrowed eyes, his expression darkening like a predator sizing up its next move. There was loads of blood on our white carpet now. The two of them remained locked in their tense standoff. The silence felt heavier now, as if the room itself was holding its breath, waiting for someone to speak, to make sense of the chaos that had exploded here. But no one moved. Both of them breathed hard, the tension between them thickening with every labored inhale. James stood up again, and I stepped away, giving up on involvement in this. This time around, it was him who punched first. He wasn’t backing down, “I am not giving up on Lucie.” He attempted to punch Julian, and he succeeded with a weak result.

Julian’s gaze was sharp, his fists clenched at his sides now, the veins in his neck standing out with the force of his anger. There was something wildly inappropriate about seeing an entrepreneur like him, in his suit, so roughed up with splatters of blood. The sharp, crisp lines of his tailored blazer were rumpled, the collar of his shirt undone, and a few dark smudges marred the otherwise pristine fabric. I made another attempt to grab him by the arm, but I wouldn’t try to restrain him. James was a strong opponent and I couldn’t tell if he was contemplating another blow.

“Please just stop this, both of you,” I begged.

“No, Lucie.” Julian’s response was sharp, almost cold, his gaze flicking to me for a brief moment before locking onto James. He stood his ground, unafraid, the simmering anger still radiating off him. “It’s my goddamn business that this wannabe popstar is writing songs about my fiancée and announcing it to the media for his own publicity.”

Julian’s protective instinct was on full display, but the way he spoke, the way he viewed James—like some sort of enemy or threat to what he thought was his—felt almost comforting to me.

“It’s my goddamn business he’s inserting himself into the relationship with my future wife.” He scanned James like he was ready to finish him off.

“I am leaving now. For you.” James glanced at me. “I can’t see you suffer like this,” his voice was low, almost breaking, as he turned his back to us. He started walking toward the staircase, his steps measured, as if he were trying to make this moment as dignified as possible. “I love you, Lucie. I always have,” He muttered somberly.

An odd ache gripped my chest.

It was only then, when his back was turned and the distance between us started to grow, that I realized it—the way his eyes had glistened was more than just an injury from the fight. There was something in them that I hadn’t seen before, something raw and vulnerable, like the weight of everything we had gone through had finally caught up with him. Like he’d truly come here to save me from harm’s way.

“You ever come close to her, in any way—even if just insinuating her name in public—the two of us won’t be done yet,” Julian threatened, his voice like ice, cutting through the tension that hung thick in the air. There was no hesitation, no room for negotiation. He meant every word, and there was an edge to him now that made it clear he wasn’t bluffing.

In a strange way, I almost welcomed it, because I didn’t want these declarations of love from my ex. And he just wasn’t getting the message. I also had zero interest in being the internet’s mystery girl.

Julian’s eyes slid to me once the door slammed shut. The tension in the air was thick, but it wasn’t until then that I realized my face was wet, with more tears streaming down my cheeks. His hard jawline softened, his movements swift and urgent like he couldn’t bear to see me like this for another second. But instead of pulling me into an embrace, like I mighthave expected, he kneeled in front of me, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my heart ache. He took my hands into his, his grip firm but gentle, as if he were trying to ground both of us.

“Is it true?” He swallowed. “You’re having our baby?”

I again wondered how much he knew already. Julian didn’t rely on tabloids for his information—Oliver’s team was always gathering intel for him, keeping him in the loop on things.

“I meant to tell you,” I started, my voice shaky, “but I couldn’t find the strength. Julian, I don’t know if we can do this—keep this baby.” My voice broke. “The doctors are saying it would most likely be fine, but there’s a lot of research saying otherwise. I am scared because this all didn’t start right.” It was a huge relief to finally tell him the truth.

His thumbs brushed over my skin, soothing in the way only he could, though the rawness in his eyes told me that he was just as torn apart by everything as I was. There was something deeply vulnerable in the way he held me—like he didn’t know what to say, but he couldn’t stand to see me sad anymore.

For a moment, we both just hugged, the silence floating in the space between us. It was like time had slowed, like all the noise and chaos outside the room had faded away, and it was just us. Julian’s eyes finally searched mine, filled with questions, guilt, and regret. “Lucie...” he whispered, his voice hoarse, as if speaking my name was all he could manage. “I’d love to be a father. I want this with you more than anything despite the timing.”

My chest, already tight from my pregnancy, heaved with each breath. “I also don’t know if I’m ready myself, you know.” The words tumbled out in a rush, each one heavy with the weight of everything I hadn’t said, everything that had been building up inside me. “But I love this little thing inside more than I couldever imagine. I couldn’t do it when I went. I couldn’t go through with the abortion.”

Would he be upset that I tried to take things into my own hands? Was it weak of me to try to hide it from him?

It didn’t seem like Julian harbored any bitterness toward my actions. Without a word, he kissed me on the forehead, both of us still kneeling on the floor. His arms wrapped around me, a steady, grounding presence amidst the chaos. And for a moment, as I clung to him, I allowed myself to feel the smallest bit of relief, even if just for the briefest of seconds. The weight of the world hadn’t disappeared, but in his arms, I felt less alone.

“I love you, Lucie. It’s your body and your decision,” He whispered softly, his voice full of quiet conviction. He held me tighter, his hands gently cradling my face as I continued to sob, the tears soaking his shirt. “And I’ll be there for every moment of it.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead, his lips warm and tender against my skin, a silent promise that spoke volumes. “I’m ready for all of it with you—the pain, the happiness, and even our darkest of griefs.”

The following day, the sun came out, casting a golden glow that seemed to make everything just a little bit brighter. The world outside looked like it was moving on, as if the weight of the night before had never happened. But for me, it was still hard to find any real joy. My mind still lingered on Sophie all the time, as if my entire future happiness depended on her coming back from whatever hell she was going through. While I wanted to continue searching for her, Oliver urged me to stop, insisting that doing so would only jeopardize his progress. So, I had to summon the strength to step back and trust the process—a difficult reality for a control freak like me.

I woke up beside my handsome fiancée on the couch, tangled in each other’s limbs, our breaths soft and steady. We must have fallen asleep there the night before, likely from sheer exhaustion. He was still resting, his face calm and serene, so I quietly slippedaway to our espresso machine. Before long, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the room. I took a moment to calculate my daily caffeine limit, consoling myself that decaf was still an option once I’d finished my first mug.

Was Amanda expecting me at work today? I felt relieved I hadn’t gotten a frantic call from her asking if I needed maternity benefits anytime soon. But, true to form, my workaholic nature kicked in—the drive to succeed pulled me back to the office. I quietly made my way downstairs to the bedroom, and then into my closet. Today, more than ever, I was determined to choose an outfit that made a powerful statement. I selected a stunning Armani suit, its sleek lines and tailored fit exuding both confidence and sophistication. Valentina had gifted it to me straight from the runway, one of the few items left from our friendship. In no time, without waiting for Julian to awaken, I slipped out the door.

Will tried hard not to send any judgmental looks my way, and it almost made me chuckle because I knew exactly what he was thinking. Despite his best efforts to mask it, his eyes betrayed him, scanning me up and down with a mixture of disbelief and admiration that I was still standing after all the stuff on the internet.

The drive to the office was uneventful, aside from a few photographers stationed at the exit gate of our complex. Their presence was just part of the routine now, an oddity I hardly noticed anymore, as if they were simply another fixture of my daily life.

“Well, well,” Amanda greeted me the moment I appeared at the door.

---