Chapter 81: Falling Asleep in His Arms

When Julian appeared, the crowd that had gathered around Gary all turned to stare.

A nearby woman nudged Cora, whispering, “Who’s that? He looks like he just stepped out of a painting. Gorgeous.”

Cora couldn’t help laughing and glanced back at Julian.

Normally, he disliked being complimented, but today he seemed to make an exception.

“My wife’s the beautiful one,” he said simply, both hands resting on her shoulders.

The surrounding neighbors melted into a chorus of envy.

Cora’s cheeks flushed. She tugged Julian away before the gossip could get any louder.

Back home, Austin handed them each a towel.

“Why didn’t you rest earlier?” Cora asked as she dried her hands.

“You weren’t beside me,” Julian replied, voice low and matter-of-fact. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her straight toward the bedroom.

Before she could protest, she was already on the bed, his body curling around hers as he reached for the blanket.

“Don’t move,” he murmured, his voice rough from exhaustion. “I haven’t slept in three days. Let me hold you.”

Cora froze. Three days?

What were Baron and the others doing—letting him run himself into the ground?

She wanted to argue but couldn’t, not when his face looked that tired. So she stayed still, letting him hold her.

Minutes passed. The steady weight of his arm, his slow breathing—it all began to pull her under. Before long, she drifted off.

When Julian heard her soft, even breaths, a faint smile touched his lips, and he finally succumbed to sleep.

He hadn’t realized how deeply his body had craved this—her.

Every night abroad, he’d lain awake, restless. He’d blamed the jet lag, the unfamiliar bed, the constant noise. But now he knew.

It wasn’t the distance or the time zone.

It was the absence of her warmth.

They slept for hours.

When Cora opened her eyes again, sunlight was already slanting through the curtains.

Great, she thought wryly. Now I’ll be awake all night.

She moved slightly, but the arm around her waist tightened. A sigh escaped her lips—half helpless, half amused.

Julian had only been asleep five or six hours. She didn’t want to wake him, so she simply stayed where she was, resting her head against his chest.

Unable to sleep again, she studied his face—the calm lines, the lashes casting soft shadows across his cheeks.

For once, the man who always carried the weight of empires looked peaceful.

She had to admit—he was breathtaking.

Her fingers itched. She reached out and traced the bridge of his nose, the curve of his lips—

And gasped when he suddenly caught her finger between his teeth.

Her eyes flew up. He was still, eyes closed.

She tried to pull away. No use.

He’s doing this on purpose… isn’t he?

A low, amused voice rumbled above her. “Can’t get enough of my face?”

Heat shot straight up her neck. Caught red-handed.

Julian’s lashes fluttered open, revealing clear, rested eyes. He looked infuriatingly alert.

“What time is it?” he asked, finally releasing her hand.

Cora withdrew it quickly, her pulse racing. She didn’t dare meet his gaze—or admit that when he’d bitten down, her entire body had lit up in a rush of heat.

“Two o’clock,” she murmured.

Julian loosened his hold and stretched. “Hungry?”

As if on cue, her stomach growled.

He chuckled. “Guess our son’s hungry too.”

Cora’s face flamed scarlet. He’d never said things like that before. Somehow, it felt too intimate, too… real.

A knock saved her from replying. Austin’s voice came from outside: “Mr. Watson, Mrs. Watson—lunch is ready.”

They got up, freshened quickly, and headed to the dining room.

“Where’s my mom?” Cora asked, noticing the empty seat.

“The lady said she had an errand and won’t be back for dinner,” Austin replied. “Don’t worry—someone’s with her.”

Cora smiled gratefully.

No matter where they were, Julian’s standards never slipped.

Even this temporary four-bedroom house had been transformed into something refined and serene. Every meal was worthy of a five-star hotel.

Sometimes she suspected he secretly traveled with a personal chef.

When she’d eaten enough, Julian finally spoke. “We should go home tomorrow. It’s been long enough.”

“Mm,” she answered softly.

“Worried about your mother?”

Cora didn’t reply, but her silence was answer enough.

“I’ll hire a live-in housekeeper to look after her,” he said. “As for your adoptive father—don’t concern yourself. He’s too busy ruining his own life to bother her anymore.”

Cora blinked, surprised, then smiled. He rarely meddled in domestic drama, yet here he was, quietly solving hers.

“The Dev matriarch won’t stop stirring up trouble,” Julian added. “That house won’t stay peaceful for long.”

Cora pictured Ravi and Gary’s new wife clawing at each other and couldn’t help laughing. Serves them right.

The Devs had haunted her life long enough. Let them destroy themselves for once.

“Alright,” she said simply. She’d seen enough. It was time to go home.

She knew Julian had orchestrated the entire downfall—efficient, surgical, and merciless.

And strangely, she was grateful.

He’d done what she couldn’t: free her mother from that past.

Later that night, after dinner, she strolled outside and overheard neighbors gossiping about the latest Dev family scandal.

Her smile wouldn’t leave her face.

If Gary ever finds out the child his new wife is carrying isn’t even his…

She almost laughed out loud.

Let karma handle it.

When Zoy returned late that evening, she looked radiant. “I found a job!” she announced, beaming. “Promotions at the mall. They liked that I speak multiple languages.”

Cora hugged her. For the first time, she saw real light in her mother’s eyes again.

The next morning, after breakfast, they packed up to leave. Zoy clasped Cora’s hands. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

Cora could finally believe it.

A few hours later, she and Julian were back in Lindon City. They reported to the Watson matriarch, then headed home.

Julian went straight to the office; Cora returned to the house.

The butler met her at the door with a wide smile. “Mrs. Watson, welcome home! You must be exhausted.”

“Not too bad,” she said with a laugh. “At least I can finally relax.”

A maid knelt to change her shoes; another handed her a towel; a third offered milk.

Cora took a sip, her gaze catching on a white envelope resting on the entry table.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“The courier just delivered it,” the butler said. “An invitation—addressed specifically to you.”