Chapter 117

Chapter 117
Julian's POV

I stood at the buffet, selecting food.

French toast, grilled asparagus, and her favorite strawberry pancakes.

My mind kept replaying this morning in the suite—Violet straddling me, bold yet inexperienced.

Her flushed cheeks and the way she tried so hard to match my rhythm—it was a fire still burning through my blood.

A barely perceptible smile tugged at my lips as I carried two full plates back toward our window seat.

But the seat was empty.

Her purse was gone from the table too.

I frowned, about to set down the plates and pull out my phone to ask where she'd gone, when an overpowering scent of tuberose perfume assaulted me from behind.

"Julian, what a coincidence."

Niamh had appeared out of nowhere.

She wore a wine-red silk slip dress and high heels, her face arranged in what she clearly thought was a dazzling smile.

She walked right up to me and reached out naturally, trying to loop her arm through mine.

My expression went ice-cold. Revulsion churned in my gut.

Without hesitation, I stepped back half a pace, putting distance between us.

The dishes on the plates clinked softly from my sudden movement.

Niamh's hand hung awkwardly in midair.

"Miss Gray, mind your boundaries." I looked at her coldly, voice devoid of warmth.

Niamh's expression flickered, but she quickly masked it, withdrawing her hand and forcing a casual laugh. "Don't be so cold, Julian. We've known each other for years. Can't I even say hello when we run into each other at a hotel?"

"No." I cut her off mercilessly, my gaze sharp as I stared at her calculating face. "I have a girlfriend. To avoid any unnecessary misunderstandings, I need you to keep your distance. I won't tolerate any approach that crosses boundaries."

At the words "girlfriend," the smile vanished completely from Niamh's face.

Shock flashed through her vivid blue eyes, followed by thick resentment and jealousy.

She stared at me intently, trying to find some crack in my expression.

"Girlfriend? You're actually in a relationship?" Niamh's voice turned sharp with probing aggression. "Who is she? Which family's heiress has you so protective? I'm curious—what kind of woman could make you refuse to even look at me?"

Her presumptuous prying into my private life exhausted the last of my patience.

"Who she is has nothing to do with you." I looked down at her, releasing the full weight of my presence without restraint. "Drop your ridiculous curiosity and stop trying to dig into my private affairs."

Niamh flinched slightly under the chill radiating from me, but she still wouldn't give up.

She softened her voice, attempting to play the victim. "Julian, I'm just concerned about you. You don't need to be so guarded with me. Our families still have business dealings, and next month's gala—"

"Shut up." I cut her off coldly.

Holding the plates in one hand, I pulled my phone from my pocket with the other. The screen lit up.

"If you say one more word, or continue standing here harassing me, I'll call hotel security immediately. Or I'll call the NYPD directly and file a harassment complaint."

I looked straight into her eyes, delivering each word as a warning. "You know I mean what I say. I sent you to Europe years ago—I can just as easily destroy your reputation in Manhattan now."

Niamh knew exactly what I was capable of.

Hearing the ruthless threat, her face went deathly pale.

She bit her lower lip hard, her eyes filled with loss, humiliation, and resentment.

She knew that continuing would only bring more shame. Without another word, she turned on her heels and left the restaurant in defeat.

I withdrew my gaze coldly. Instead of returning to the window seat, I carried the plates to an extremely secluded corner booth on the other side of the restaurant.

Setting down the food, I unlocked my phone screen.

An unread message appeared—from Violet.

[Niamh is in the restaurant. She just sat down at our table. I'm hiding in the restroom for now.]

Looking at those brief words on the screen, my grip on the phone tightened sharply, knuckles turning a cold, hard white.

So that's why she wasn't at the table.

That lunatic Niamh must have said something cruel to her.

My girl had been right under my nose, forced to flee and hide in a bathroom, sending me this cautious little message.

Fury and heartache surged through me in equal measure.

I shoved the phone back in my pocket and strode toward the restroom.

At the end of the hallway, I saw Violet.

She was leaning against the cold marble wall outside the powder room, head bowed, slender shoulders trembling slightly.

Hearing my footsteps, she looked up.

Those clear eyes were bloodshot, filled with grievance and deep self-reproach.

Seeing me approach, she said nothing—just rushed forward and threw herself into my arms.

I caught her firmly, wrapping my arms tightly around her.

She buried her face deep in my coat, hands clutching the front of my shirt. She didn't cry aloud, but I could feel her body shaking.

She was afraid of Niamh's provocations, but even more ashamed that she couldn't openly acknowledge our relationship—that she could only hide like a coward.

That shame was tearing viciously at her self-respect.

"I'm sorry, Julian..." Her voice was choked, thick with congestion, her cheek pressed against my chest. "I ran away again. I didn't even have the courage to fight back."

Hearing her remorseful self-blame, my chest felt like it had been struck with a sledgehammer—a dull, brutal ache.

I lowered my head and pressed warm kisses to her forehead, again and again, trying to smooth away her anxiety and hurt.

"This isn't your fault, Violet." I sighed, cupping her face in both hands and gently brushing away the moisture at the corners of her eyes with my thumbs.

I looked straight into her eyes, my tone serious and firm, taking all the responsibility onto myself. "I'm too old. I'm fourteen years older than you. My experience, my background, the complicated world I move in—it puts pressure on you. That's why you second-guess yourself."

She looked at me, tears glistening in her eyes.

"You don't need to prove anything to anyone, and you don't need to force yourself to face people you'd rather avoid just for my sake." I lowered my head and kissed her brow again, voice low and understanding. "I respect every decision you make. Whether you want to go public or keep things private—as long as you're still beside me, nothing else matters."