Chapter 66 High Expectations
“What will you pretend you never saw?” The question dropped like a heavy weight between them all.
And worse, Julian’s voice had a different kind of calmness to it that always sounded like he could pick when someone was lying, so anyone around him trying to play with his mind had to be careful.
For a split second, Seraphina’s gaze flicked to Joye.
Joye stood frozen, head slightly lowered, shoulders stiff as if bracing for impact.
Seraphina swallowed, forcing her expression into something casual, something she hoped was believable for Julian’s level of intelligence.
“Oh, you heard us…” she said quickly, her tone light, almost dismissive. “I was scolding Joye because she was going live on TikTok when she was supposed to be here tending to my breakfast. It kind of…got on my nerves because I was hoping she would be ready with the food but she was yet to cook at all.”
The lie came smoother than she expected.
Julian did not respond immediately.
He simply stood there, eyes narrowing at Seraphina. She forced herself to remain indifferent under his trained gaze.
Then his gaze slowly shifted to Joye.
“Is that true?” he asked, warning in his tone.
Joye bowed instantly, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.
“I’m very sorry, sir,” she said quickly. “I got carried away… having fun. I wasn’t aware of time.”
She panicked.
Julian looked a bit irritated at her response. “Next time you make my wife bothered, you will be fired.”
His threat sent different kind of chills down the women’s bodies. For Joye, it was fear. For Seraphina, it was admiration.
Joye bowed deeper. “I understand, sir. I’m very sorry.”
Seraphina couldn’t unhear those words.
Not if you neglect your duty.
Not if you disobey house rules.
But- If you make my wife bothered.
Her chest tightened faintly.
Does… he care about her to that extent?
Before the silence could stretch further, Seraphina spoke.
“Joye,” she called, regaining composure, “just go and prepare some salad and small rice for me.”
Joye nodded quickly. “Right away, ma’am.”
She exited almost immediately, closing the door gently behind her.
And then it was just the two of them.
The room suddenly felt quieter.
Seraphina swallowed.
This was the first time they were alone after last night.
After everything that had happened between them in his dark room.
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides. She had no idea what to expect from him.
She wanted to say something but couldn’t afford to flop, so she waited instead, her eyes looking everywhere but him.
Julian’s voice broke the silence and her breath picked.
“I am taking you to dinner tomorrow night,” he declared unexpectedly. “Prepare ahead.”
He turned to hold the doorknob. Seraphina’s chest tightened sharply. She wasn’t having it. She expected more from him.
Her hand moved before her mind fully processed it.
She reached out and touched his arm.
The moment her fingers brushed the fabric of his sleeve, she froze.
Julian stopped.
Slowly, his gaze dropped to where she had touched him.
Then lifted to her face, his hard expression faltering for a fraction of seconds.
Seraphina quickly withdrew her hand, her breath slightly uneven.
“Won’t we talk about last night?” she asked, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest- because whatever would come from his mouth as a response now would either break her or excite her.
There was a pause.
Julian tilted his head slightly.
“What about last night?” he replied.
Her chest plummeted.
She stared at him, disbelief flickering briefly in her eyes.
“Something happened between us last night,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I expected you to… regard it.”
Short silence settled between them. Then, Julian began to walk toward her, taking slow, measured steps.
Seraphina instinctively shifted back.
Her breath hitched.
He kept advancing until her back met the wall behind her.
She gasped softly when the wall stopped her retreat.
Julian stopped right in front of her. Close enough that she could feel the faint warmth of his presence. His scent clouded her thinking, taking her back to the previous night- obsessing over the moment that refused to leave her head.
He reached out and curled a loose strand of her hair around his finger, his gray eyes piercing hers. Her breath stuttered, her skin raising goosebumps even though it was her hair that was touched, not her body. For a moment, they only looked at eachother.
“What exactly,” he asked softly, “do you expect me to say?”
His grey eyes continued to parade round her facial features.
“That I had the best night of my life?” he continued.
A beat of pause.
“That I am in love?”
Another beat.
“Or that…”
“I wasn’t expecting any of that,” Seraphina interrupted quickly, her pride surging forward. But her voice trembled slightly, betraying her composure.
“I just… expected you to acknowledge it. At least.”
Even as she spoke, a quiet realization formed in the back of her mind.
Maybe… a part of her had wanted to hear those things he questioned. Very delusional.
Julian’s gaze hardened almost imperceptibly. Then he declared sternly, “There is nothing to talk about,”
The air shifted instantly.
“It was a pleasurable night for both of us,” he continued, his tone detached. “And I have had many other pleasurable nights to compare with.”
He didn’t stutter like her. He meant his words. Seraphina swallowed at the heartbreaking thought.
“So it was a fun night for me. That is all.” He finished.
Disappointment surged through Sera’s chest like a quiet ache.
Embarassment clouded hope. Her earlier anticipations crumbled silently. But she lifted her chin. Of course she would not let him see that.
“Of course,” she started, forcing steadiness into her voice. “It was fun for me too. I just expected you to say something. That’s all. It’s no big deal.”
Julian blinked once, as if her clapback had been unexpected.
But the slip of emotion vanished as quickly as it appeared.
He straightened slightly.
“Dinner,” he said. “7 p.m. tomorrow. Be ready.”
Then he added, “We have things to discuss.”
And then he turned around and walked out without another word.
The door closed softly behind him.
The moment he was gone, the strength drained out of Seraphina’s legs.
She slowly slid down the wall until she was seated on the floor. Her heart began beating too fast, her breathing shallow.
Panic crept in quietly.
She pressed a hand to her chest, fingers trembling.
“This wasn’t the plan…” she whispered to herself.
Why had she expected affection?
Why had she expected warmth?
Why had she expected anything at all from a man who couldn’t afford affection just because of the searing intimacy they shared last night?
Her chest fell heavily.
She quickly reached for her drawer, rummaging through it until she found her medication. With slightly shaky hands, she took one and grabbed the jug on her bedside table, pouring water into a glass before drinking.
She remained seated on the floor, back against the wall, breathing until her heartbeat calmed.
But the sadness lingered. The feeling persisted for hours.
The rest of the day passed without seeing Julian once.
—
The next day, Julian sat in the main living room of President’s Frederick grand residence, yet his mind elsewhere. On the dinner.
His fingers tapped lightly once against the armrest before stilling.
Tonight, he intended to tell her everything that he had been planning behind her back.
Phoenix would be homeschooled.
And taken to another country for safety.
He would also help her reclaim her rightful position as the Moreau heiress.
He would tell her what had transpired between him and Damien, and if her reactions were mature enough, he might tell her about Keith who wanted Phoenix, and maybe things he wanted her to know about his life. Everything was aligning. It was only a matter of time.
Yet, against his will, fragments of two nights ago surfaced in his mind.
How she had reacted to his touch.
How surreal it had felt to be inside her..Her voice as she moaned over and over.
And then…The way she had looked at him yesterday’s morning.
He exhaled quietly.
Focus.
That was what he needed.
Not distractions.
Footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Julian stood immediately the moment the man entered the room.
The President of the United States, Frederick Moore, walked in with an easy familiarity that portrayed eagerness to meet his special guest. Julian bowed slightly out of respect.
But the older man waved it off almost instantly.
“Jules,” Frederick called warmly, pulling him into a brief hug instead.
Julian smiled as they hugged. He respected this man. When they settled into their seats, and after pleasantries, he started to tell his reasons for the visit he hadn’t had to be scheduled for.
“I apologize for taking your time this morning,” he said calmly. “But I need your help”