Chapter 16 Nightly Escapades
Elena froze.
She stood by the window, barely breathing, her fingers still curled against the curtain as she saw the woman dressed in red.
Her heart stuttered painfully in her chest.
After everything that had happened earlier that day, the crash, the men, the fear still crawling under her skin, this felt wrong and she couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine.
Terrified, her body reacted before her mind could catch up.
She turned sharply and pulled on a robe, her hands shaking as she tied it tight around herself.
She needed to find Julian now and tell him there was a stranger in their house, and somehow she had bypassed security like it was nothing.
Elena moved quickly to the door, her hand already reaching for the handle but then she stopped when she heard footsteps.
Her breath caught as she heard that the footsteps were approaching from Julian’s study.
The door opened quietly, and Elena stepped back instinctively, pressing herself into the shadow beside the wall.
Julian walked out without seeing her.
He was dressed in nothing but a towel, wrapped low around his waist.
His hair was damp, water still clinging to the ends and some running down his muscled back. He looked like he had just stepped out of the shower.
He was way too relaxed that Elena couldn't help but think this didn't look like a man responding to a security breach.
Elena’s stomach dropped.
He didn’t see her because he was already heading downstairs.
Carefully, silently, she pulled the door open just enough to watch.
Julian descended the stairs casually and Elena leaned forward, gripping the railing as she looked down.
The front door was already open and Elena was shocked to already see the strange woman in the living area.
There hadn’t even been a knock.
The woman stepped inside the house like she wasn't a stranger, like she’d done it a hundred times before.
Up close, she looked a little older, maybe in her forties. And she was absolutely breathtaking.
“Well,” the woman said, her voice smooth and amused, her lips curling into a wide smile as she looked around, “look at what you’ve done with the place.”
She walked in slowly, openly inspecting the house, her fingers trailing along the furniture and the walls.
Elena was frowning deeply.
The woman stopped directly in front of Julian and reached out, placing her hand flat against his chest.
Julian didn’t move, he didn’t step back and he certainly didn’t remove her hand.
Elena felt hot anger and jealousy all crashing together so violently she had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from making a sound.
“Missed me?” the woman asked lightly.
Julian’s voice was calm. “I didn't think you would come at this hour.”
She laughed softly. “Oh, please. You know when my little pet needs me to come around, I can’t refuse.”
Elena’s knees felt weak and she watched as the woman’s hand slid slightly, her thumb brushing his skin.
“So,” she said, tilting her head, “are you going to show me your new room?”
Julian turned.
He reached for the woman’s hand and took it.
And then he started leading her upstairs.
Straight toward Elena.
Elena stumbled back, panic surging. She rushed into her room and shut the door quietly, pressing her back against it, her chest heaving.
Her mind was spinning.
So this was it.
This was the reason.
This was why he wanted a contract marriage. Why he kept his distance. Why he never came to bed. Why he always looked somewhere else when she tried to ask him why.
He was that kind of man.
The kind who wanted comfort without commitment. A wife for appearances and then other older women for pleasure.
Her throat burned.
She waited, heart hammering, then slowly opened the door again.
The hallway was empty and she crept forward, her bare feet silent against the floor, moving down the stairs just enough to see into the living room.
The driver from earlier was not inside which meant he was still outside.
She couldn’t go out. She couldn’t confront anyone. Fear rooted her in place.
She hurried back upstairs, her heart pounding as she moved toward Julian’s bedroom.
She stopped just short of the door and leaned in, listening.
The door was closed.
She couldn’t hear much, but the woman was loud.
“I thought you wouldn’t see me tonight,” the woman said. “You’ve been very distracted lately.”
Julian replied quietly, his voice muffled. “You shouldn’t talk like that here.”
“Relax,” she said. “Your little wife is asleep, isn’t she?”
Elena felt like she’d been slapped.
“Don’t call her that,” Julian said sharply.
The woman laughed again. “Touchy. Fine. Elena, then. She doesn’t look like she’d last long anyway.”
There was a pause.
Elena’s nails dug into her palms.
Then Julian spoke again. “You should eat something. You must be tired.”
Her heart sank.
Moments later, Elena heard footsteps again, this time moving away from the bedroom.
She rushed quietly back down the stairs and hid behind the corner of the hallway leading to the dining room.
Julian and the woman entered together.
“Dinner?” the woman said, raising a brow. “How domestic of you.”
“It’s already prepared,” Julian replied. “You might as well eat.”
Elena watched as Julian pulled out a chair for her.
Watched as the woman sat like she belonged there.
The woman leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand. “So tell me,” she said, smiling, “how does it feel playing husband?”
Julian didn’t answer right away.
Elena couldn’t hear everything, but she heard enough.
Elena couldn’t take it anymore.
She turned away, her vision blurring as tears filled her eyes, and hurried back upstairs.
She shut her bedroom door and leaned against it, her shoulders shaking.
So this was her reality. This marriage was truly a contract.
A performance.
A man who didn’t even think to hide his indulgences properly.
She couldn't tell what hurt more—him having those needs, or the fact that he never trusted her enough to talk to her about them?
She wasn’t innocent. She knew that. But she wasn’t very experienced with lovemaking either.
Francis was barely a good lover and their union had been more about making him happy than about her own needs.
But this?
This made her feel naive and stupid. Like a placeholder.
She crossed the room and sat heavily on the bed, then lay back and stared at the ceiling as tears slipped silently down her temples.
After a few minutes, the sobs came as she curled into herself, clutching the pillow like it could keep her together.
“How did I ever think he could love me?" She cried, “Camille was right. I mean nothing to him. I'm just a charity case!"
She sobbed for so long and eventually, exhaustion overtook her as she laid in her own tears.