Page 59 of Julian's Curse

It seemed like she was already walking to him already.

“All is fine, but this cannot wait, unfortunately,” I said in an apologetic tone. “I know he’s in the middle of something.”

I heard some rustling, followed by a muffled sound, and then finally Julian’s voice. “Baby, are you alright?”

I jumped straight into my request, in hopes that he’d focus on my alarmed state more than on the logic of it all. I’d prepared my story ahead of time, in hopes that the story would be credible enough to get me where I needed to be. “Julian, I’m worried. Amanda wants to expedite the sale ofHart & Quill, and I don’t think I’m going to be able to get the funds. I hate to ask this, but is there any way I can borrow the money? I’ll pay it back as soon as possible,” I blurted out. It sounded so out of character for me that I feared he wouldn’t believe me. But at least he knew this was my dream, so he’d be less likely to question it.

I heard him pause, his silence stretching as he clearly thought it over. Maybe he was weighing the practicality, or trying to gauge the urgency. Finally, he spoke. “Sure baby, I am glad you asked. I’ll text you Phil’s info,” he was now talking about his finance manager that often worked alongside Mr. Dickens. “When do you need the funds?”

“As soon as possible. I’d like to have them this afternoon,” I felt a wave of shame wash over me as I asked for his money so blatantly.

“Why is Amanda rushing it? Do you need an attorney to review the documents?”

“No, you have to trust me. I really want to do this on my own. And yes, I already have an attorney helping me,” I lied. “The contract has been in the works for a while, and we’re just expediting it.”

I heard a few people talking in the background, then Julian’s voice again, “Excuse me, gentlemen.” He’d clearly stepped away entirely.

“I am sorry to interrupt your meeting,” I added. “I know this is sudden.”

“Lucie, is everything okay?” He asked in a voice laced with concern. “Are you safe?”

I wasn’t good at pretending, but I’d do my best. “Julian, yes, I think I’m just very stressed out. I’ve been chasing this money, and it was naïve of me to think I could make that much in just a few months. And if you can help me… Maybe it’s the pregnancy getting me really emotional,” I made a stupid excuse. “I want to make sure I can also provide for a baby myself. Being an entrepreneur is ultimately also my dream.” I was teetering on the edge of tears which was working to my advantage. Wanting to be an entrepreneur was something he could relate to strongly, and I made sure to use it to my advantage.

“Our baby, yes of course, Lucie,” I could almost feel him smiling on the other end of the line. “I’m honored I can finally buy my fiancée something that makes her happy.”

It sounded like he was buying my story. And considering everything else on his plate that day, it seemed my out-of-line request wasn’t going to raise as many questions as I’d feared.

“After I hang up, Phil will get you set up by 5 PM at the latest,” he let me know. “I’ve got to get back to my meeting, but call anytime you need me.”

“Thanks Julian, I love you.” I finished with the sincerest sentence of our conversation. “This means a lot. And I’ll pay you back,” I tried to make it sound like a loan. That way, he’d question it less knowing my character.

“Anytime baby, I’ll see you later, I’ll be home from the office on time. We can talk more about it.”

“Can’t wait!” I mustered a positive tone.

“I love you more,” he killed the call, likely anxious to get back to what he did best—making money.

I wondered if Phil would be bothered by the fact that I was asking for cash, too, but I figured we’d cross that bridge when we got there. Maybe he was used to paying money to Julian’s exes, sometimes even for hush money to keep them silent before the press, so there was a good chance he wouldn’t question it at all.

The night stretched on, long and excruciating, and I felt like I had reached the limit of what I could mentally handle. Julian and I ordered Chinese food, watched TV, but I was only half present. Earlier that afternoon, I had withdrawn 10 million dollars from his bank account and stuffed it into my largest backpack, all without his knowledge.

The whole time, I couldn’t shake the doubt that I’d made a mistake, believing this could actually go well. But since I had no idea who my enemy was, or if they could find out that I’d broken my part of the deal, I decided to proceed with my plan. When it came to Sophie’s life, I couldn’t afford to take any erratic risks. There was a good chance that her kidnappers only wanted the money, and I had to focus on that. If Jess was involved, I was pretty certain she wouldn’t want to hurt Sophie—or find herself tangled in even deeper legal trouble.

To my growing distress, it wasn’t just everything with Sophie that was spiraling out of control. Each time I went to the bathroom, I bled more. And each time, my heart ached, now at the realization that it looked like a miscarriage. I stared at it like it was coming from a knife wound. But still, there was a sliver of hope—that the baby might be fine. Several pregnancy blogs had mentioned the possibility of a subchorionic hematoma, and I clung to it as a plausible explanation of my symptoms.

Not being able to share my health scare with Julian made everything feel even more overwhelming. But if I had told him, he’d probably rush me to the hospital for an ultrasound, and I’d end up missing my morning coffee appointment—something I wasn’t ready to give up, even in the midst of everything. I knew that no matter what this was, there was no way I could save the baby.

In a haze, I managed to get through the torturous twelve hours. I kept my composure, pushed through the mounting anxiety, and stayed as focused as I could. When the time finally came, I slipped out without drawing much attention to myself. I carefully timed my trip to Starbucks, making sure it seemed casual. Will wouldn’t find it odd—after all, I frequented the place regularly to pick up coffee for colleagues at the office. It was part of my routine, something that would make my departure seem perfectly ordinary, even if the weight of what I was about to do was anything but.

I couldn’t afford to shake off Will—he’d pick up on something being off. But it seemed like whoever had sent the email was prepared for that. Instead of showing up in person, they’d skillfully slipped a piece of paper into the coffee tray waiting for me. Why not just give me the address straight in the email then? I didn’t like that this whole thing felt like a game. I examined the people around, as the stranger could have been in the crowd, but it was pointless because he could have been anyone.

Accepting my fate, I grabbed the paper and quickly punched the address into my phone, still standing in front of the counter. It looked like the location was deep within Cuyamaca Rancho State Park, far out beyond East County. The only other detail was to go there at 3 PM, that same afternoon.

The hope of seeing Sophie—and perhaps even saving her—filled my heart, pushing aside the fear that had been threatening to consume me. There was no turning back now.

I finally arrived at the office, the coffees in hand helping to set a positive tone for the day, for everyone else but myself. “Kali, I have a small request,” I announced walking over to her desk.

She looked up, still chewing on her breakfast muffin, and replied, “What’s that, love?”

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