Chapter 52: Stay Out of My Business

When Cora returned to the private dining room, she didn’t even get a chance to greet the chairman and his wife before spotting Julian standing there.

What was he doing here?

Wasn’t he supposed to be in a meeting?

“Julian—” she started, but the look in his eyes froze her mid-sentence. Anger. Cold, controlled, but unmistakable.

“Chairman, Mrs. Han, I owe you an apology,” Julian said smoothly, his tone polite to the point of frost. “Cora hasn’t been feeling well. The doctor advised rest, so she wasn’t supposed to be out today. That’s my fault. I hope you’ll forgive the inconvenience.”

“Of course,” the chairman said, smiling in that knowing way older couples do. To them, it looked like a loving husband worried sick about his wife.

Cora, however, could feel the fire simmering behind Julian’s calm exterior. He was furious—she could see it in the way his jaw flexed.

Why?

She was here for him—for Watson Group. What did she do wrong?

“Then we’ll take our leave,” Julian said, inclining his head briefly before gripping Cora’s wrist and marching her out the door.

Cora barely had time to wave a goodbye before she was shoved into the car, the door slamming shut behind her.

Julian got in on the driver’s side, movements sharp, mechanical.

“Who told you you could leave the hospital?” His voice was low and cutting.

Cora blinked. “I—”

“Who gave you permission?” he snapped.

Her patience broke. “Julian! What are you so angry about? I came to meet the chairman and his wife for you! For Watson Group! Do you think I enjoy smiling through dinner and explaining things I didn’t even do wrong?”

Her voice trembled, half from rage, half from hurt. “If you’re mad that I left the hospital, fine—I’ll apologize. But the doctor cleared me. The baby’s fine! I’m fine! Shouldn’t I be the one more worried about my child than you?”

But Julian wasn’t hearing her. To him, it sounded like excuses. His temper snapped.

“So you left the hospital… to meet another man?”

Cora froze. “What?”

He was serious.

“Are you insane?” she shot back. “The chairman? He’s over fifty! His wife was right there!”

“Julian, for God’s sake—try to remember why I came here!”

“My business,” Julian cut in coldly, “doesn’t need your interference. If I wanted to deal with the chairman and his wife, I’d handle it myself. You have no right to get involved.”

Cora stared at him. No right.

That stung more than she expected.

“You’re right,” she said finally, voice low and even. “It’s none of my business. I won’t meddle again. Are you satisfied now, Mr. Watson?”

Without waiting for a response, she unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the door, and stepped out into the night.

“Cora—”

But she was already walking away.

Julian slammed his fist against the steering wheel, furious with himself. That wasn’t what he meant to say—not like that.

He’d only gone to the restroom for a moment, but when he came out, he’d seen Liam Mayer standing with her—too close, too intent. The way Liam had looked at Cora wasn’t professional. It was unmistakably a man’s gaze.

Liam and Cora… had they met before?

How much did he really know about her past?

The thought made something sharp twist in his chest.

Outside, Cora stood on the curb. A drop of something cold slid down her cheek. She touched it, startled.

Tears? Really?

How ridiculous—to cry over Julian Watson. Over a man who couldn’t decide if she was a person or an inconvenience.

She drew a deep breath, flagged down a cab, and climbed in without looking back.

Julian watched the taxi disappear down the street, frustration and regret tightening his throat.

Because the truth was—he knew this meeting had worked. Cora had done what he couldn’t.

The chairman and his wife had softened, even mentioned expanding cooperation.

It was her victory.

He should’ve been proud.

But all he could see was Liam’s face beside hers. And that image burned like a splinter in his chest.

In the cab, the driver glanced at Cora through the rearview mirror. “Had a fight with your husband, huh? Happens to all young couples. You know, marriage is just learning to talk instead of keeping things bottled up. My wife and I—”

Cora turned her gaze to the window, forcing herself to breathe evenly. The doctor’s words echoed in her head: No stress.

The baby was nearly three months along—this was a crucial stage. She couldn’t afford to let anger eat at her.

By the time she got back to the hospital, exhaustion hit her like a wave. She crawled into bed, turning over and over, unable to sleep.

So much had happened in one day.

Her mind wouldn’t stop spinning—Julian, her mother, the deal, the baby.

Mom… just hang on a little longer, she thought. I’ll get you out. I promise.

At some point, sleep finally claimed her.

When she woke, it was dark outside. Her stomach growled.

“It’s probably too late for dinner,” she muttered, glancing at the clock. Eight o’clock. She was about to get up when the door opened with a soft knock.

Two women in chef uniforms wheeled in silver dining carts.

Cora blinked. “What’s this?”

“Mrs. Watson,” one of them said with a bow. “Master Julian sent us. He requested that your meals be kept light and low in oil to prevent excess heat. Tonight’s dinner is a set of nutritious soups and steamed vegetables.”

Cora stared. Of course.

The man throws a tantrum and then sends a five-star diet plan.

She sighed. “Fine. Whatever.”

No matter how angry she was, the baby still needed food.

After washing her hands, she sat down and began eating in silence. The dishes were mild, comforting—until the chefs suddenly straightened and said in unison,

“Master Julian.”

Cora froze, spoon midair.

She turned—and there he was, striding in, still in his suit, looking like he hadn’t stopped moving since he left her. Someone handed him a sterilized towel, which he used before taking the seat directly across from her.

Austin pulled out the chair; Julian sat, all cool control again.

The chefs rushed to clear Cora’s half-eaten meal, replacing it with an entire spread of rich, aromatic meats.

Cora’s eyes widened.

Really?

He gets steak while she gets vegetable purée? Was he doing this on purpose?

Julian Watson, she thought darkly, was the most infuriating man on earth.