Chapter 118 I Didn’t Touch Her

Chapter 118 I Didn’t Touch Her
Julian looked genuinely startled to find Cora standing there.
Before he could speak, Dina stumbled out of the study—clothes barely worthy of the word, hair a mess, cheeks flushed.

“I didn’t—” Julian started, oddly flustered, but Cora’s voice cut through, steady and cool.

“Sorry for overhearing,” she said. “I was just going downstairs for water. You two, carry on.”

She turned to leave.

That did it. Julian strode forward, grabbed her wrist, and hauled her into the bedroom. The door slammed with a vicious kick.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Cora struggled, but his grip was iron. After a few useless attempts, she stilled.
Up close, the faint lipstick smear on his cheek was an eyesore. She turned her head away.

Her refusal to look at him made something snap.

“Does it make you happy,” he murmured at her ear, voice low and dangerous, “handing me to another woman?”

“Isn’t that what you want?” Her tone was flat, unyielding.

“What did you say?” Each word dropped like a stone. She didn’t need to look to know how dark his expression had gone.

“Have you had your fun, Julian?” Cora kept her voice even. “Moving Dina in—wasn’t it to remind me of my place? Fine. I won’t cause you trouble. I’ll smile for the cameras and play the loving wife, clean up your PR—”

Bang.

His fist hit the wall by her ear, the crack thunderous. If he’d been a hair off, he’d have struck her.

Cora’s pupils blew wide. She stared at him, shocked.

Facing the defiance hardening in her gaze, something in Julian deflated. “What do I have to do to make you—” He cut himself off, eyes dimming. “Forget it. I won’t force you. Do whatever you want.”

He released her and headed into the bathroom.

The moment the door shut, glass shattered.

“Damn it.” His snarl was followed by the crystalline crash of a mirror giving way.

Cora shoved the door open to find blood streaking his hand. “What did you do?” She spun toward the hall. “Butler! First aid kit—now!”

The butler burst in, took one look, and yelped, “Young master! Why put yourself through this?”

“I’ll live,” Julian said, attempting a shrug. “Just wrap it.”

“No,” the butler snapped, rallying the household physician.

While the doctor worked, Julian clamped his good hand around Cora’s and wouldn’t let go. She tried to tug free; he tightened gently, refusing. Too many eyes watched for her to make a scene, so she let him hold on.

“The wound must stay dry,” the doctor said, finishing the bandage. “Change the dressing daily. Don’t sleep on that arm.”

Julian’s gaze slid to Cora. She blinked back, wary. Don’t even say it…

“Run the bath,” he said.

Cora stared. He did not just— With Dina literally next door?

Julian rose as if to do it himself. “You heard the doctor,” he added blandly.

“You’re insane,” Cora muttered, shouldering past him into the spotless, freshly reset bathroom. She turned the taps with brisk efficiency.

She was almost out the door when his lazy drawl stopped her. “You think I can undress with one hand?”

She turned, eyes widened in disbelief.

He arched a brow. “Not just anyone gets to take off my clothes.”

Right—only ex-girlfriends, she thought viciously. Still, she stepped in and began unbuttoning his shirt, one careful clasp at a time.

Julian lowered his head, watching her fingers move—steady, deft, infuriatingly gentle. With every button that slipped free, his heartbeat kicked harder.

Cora wasn’t exactly fine either. Her composure was a thread.

“I didn’t touch her,” he said suddenly, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I won’t touch her.”

Her fingers paused.

Seven days with Dina—and he didn’t? Then what about the sounds from the study…?

“I fell asleep,” he went on, eyes flicking away as if annoyed with himself. “When I woke up and reached out, I thought it was you.” A breath. “It wasn’t.”

The calm lake she’d forced over her heart quivered. A pebble, dropped straight through the surface—ripples, faint but real.