Lydia and Julian returned to the table a few minutes later.

Vanessa Price immediately noticed the mark on Lydia’s lip and smiled knowingly. “Lydia, what happened to your mouth?”

At that, the others glanced her way.

Lydia looked calmly back at Vanessa, saying nothing.

Julian reached out, tilting Lydia’s chin toward him as if to inspect. His thumb brushed across her lip in a touch that was far too familiar. “It’s true,” he said lightly. “Honey, your lips are cracked. The air’s been so dry lately — remember to drink more water.”

Lydia frowned and pushed his hand away, shooting him a warning look.

Julian just smiled, as if it were harmless teasing between husband and wife, and then turned his gaze toward Adrian Cole, who met it evenly.

Lifting his glass, Julian said, “Mr. Cole, Ms. Price — I’m terribly sorry, but Lydia and I just got called away on something urgent. Let’s have dinner again soon; this one’s on me.” He downed his drink in one swallow.

The word “urgent” carried more weight than it should have.

—

An hour later, outside the University District Police Department.

Lydia sat in the car, lost in thought, until she saw Julian emerging from the building with two young women.

One of them was wearing his jacket over her shoulders, head bowed. The other followed close behind. Two uniformed officers walked them out, speaking briefly with Julian before shaking his hand.

As the group approached, Lydia got a better look at the girl in the jacket — delicate features, pale skin, and a face almost too pretty for her age.

So this must be the “new girl” Monica had mentioned.

Definitely not Julian’s usual type. This one was far too young, too innocent.

Was he changing tastes — or actually getting serious this time?

While Lydia pondered, they reached the car. Julian tapped on the passenger-side window. As the locks clicked open, he opened the back door for the girl.

“Thank you,” the girl murmured softly — Sophie Reed, as Lydia recalled the name — before slipping into the back seat.

Her roommate, Emily Ward, started toward the front passenger door, but Julian stopped her with a hand on the handle.

“You can sit in the back with Ms. Reed,” he said mildly.

Emily blinked, confused for a second, but then nodded and got into the back.

Once seated, she realized that the driver wasn’t Julian’s chauffeur, but a young woman — Lydia.

Julian got into the front seat beside her. Lydia turned to him briefly. “Where to?”

“Riverside University,” he replied.

She started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

A few minutes into the drive, Emily couldn’t help asking, in her bright, naive tone, “Mr. Marks, is this lady your new driver?”

The question hung in the air. Lydia’s expression didn’t change; her eyes stayed fixed on the road.

Julian’s lips curved faintly. “My cousin,” he said smoothly.

“Your cousin?” Emily’s eyes widened. “Oh — I’m so sorry, ma’am! I didn’t know. I thought you were—”

Lydia finished for her, voice even. “The driver?” She paused. “Don’t worry about it. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

When Emily Ward heard that name, her expression stiffened slightly. She glanced toward Sophie Reed, whose face had gone pale.

Sophie said nothing. Her lips pressed together lightly as her gaze dropped.

From the driver’s seat, Julian Marks glanced at them through the rearview mirror before shifting his eyes toward Lydia Moore. His tone carried a lazy smile, though there was a warning in his look.

“Focus on driving, cousin. Less talking.”

A few minutes later, the car stopped in front of Riverside University.

Sophie got out, slipped off the man’s jacket she had been wearing, and handed it back to Julian. Her tone was cool and polite.

“Mr. Marks, thank you for tonight.”

Julian glanced at the jacket but didn’t take it. His eyes, however, hooked onto hers with deliberate intent.

“That’s all the thanks I get, Ms. Reed?”

Sophie met his gaze for a fleeting moment before lowering her eyes again. After a brief hesitation, she spoke softly.

“If you don’t mind, Mr. Marks, perhaps I could take you to dinner sometime to thank you properly. But—”

“I don’t mind at all,” he interrupted with a faint grin. “Having dinner with you would be my honor. Keep the jacket for now—give it back to me then.”

Lydia sat quietly in the car, unable to hear their words. But judging from their body language in the mirror, the air between them was unmistakably charged.

Julian was clearly interested this time—far more than with the women before.

After a few more words, Julian watched Sophie and Emily walk toward the university gate before he turned back, opened the door, and slid into the car again—this time, not the passenger seat, but the back.

He gave Lydia an address, leaned back, and closed his eyes, resting in silence.

Neither of them spoke the entire way.

That was how it usually was between them.

Outside of bed, they might as well have been strangers.

When they returned to Crescent Residence, Lydia noticed a message from Monica Hayes.

She hesitated for a moment, then replied:

[Let’s talk in person. It’s not something I can explain over text.]

After sending it, Lydia went upstairs. She showered, checked her work email, and went to bed.

But her sleep was uneasy—light and restless.

She didn’t know how long she had been asleep when the suffocating feeling hit.

Something heavy pressed down on her, forcing the air from her lungs. Her lips were pried open—an intrusion followed.

In the haze between dream and waking, an image flickered through her mind. Her body responded instinctively, breath catching as she whispered a name.

“Adrian…”

The intruder paused briefly—then the assault grew fiercer, cutting off what little oxygen remained.

Lydia jolted awake, gasping.

In the dark, a strong hand gripped her jaw, forcing her head up. A low, dangerous chuckle drifted through the shadows.

“Awake now?”

Her breath came in ragged pulls as her eyes adjusted, and she finally made out his face—Julian Marks. His long, narrow eyes gleamed with danger, even as his lips curved in a lazy smile.

They stared at each other for a long moment before Lydia’s mind cleared enough to separate dream from reality. She said nothing. Her breathing gradually steadied.

Julian’s fingers traced her cheek lightly, almost tenderly—as though he were caressing someone he loved. He was good at making women believe that.

But Lydia knew she wasn’t one of them.

And she didn’t love him.

“Nothing to say?” His voice was low and almost soothing, as if he were whispering an intimate secret.

“What should I say?” Lydia’s tone was flat, weary.

Julian lowered his head until their noses nearly brushed. His voice was quiet but sharp as a blade.

“You were in my bed… calling another man’s name. Don’t you think you owe me something for that?”

Lydia froze for a heartbeat, then quietly corrected him.

“This is my bed.”

Julian pressed down harder, his palm firm at her waist, even through the thin fabric of her nightdress.

“Fine. Your bed,” he murmured. “Then let me rephrase—while you’re under me, calling someone else’s name… doesn’t that deserve an explanation?”

Lydia didn’t answer. Instead, she moved—her slender arms sliding around his neck. She leaned up and licked the hollow of his throat.

His entire body tensed instantly.

Her soft breath brushed against his skin as her fingertips traced the back of his neck. Her voice came out light and sleepy.

“Are we doing this or not? Because if not, I’d really like to sleep…”

They knew each other’s bodies too well. It didn’t take much to strike a nerve.

Julian understood she was changing the subject—but the subject hardly mattered, did it?

His arm tightened sharply around her waist. Lydia frowned at the sudden pressure, but before she could speak, his mouth captured hers.

The force of it was sudden, consuming.

Lydia was never used to kissing him. Their encounters were usually silent, physical—never intimate.

But tonight, Julian was different.

He kissed her like a man starved—rough, deep, unrelenting.

Lydia pushed at him twice, to no effect. He caught her wrists, pinning them above her head against the pillow, giving her no room to resist.

The kiss deepened until her lungs burned. Her mind went white from the lack of air. Then, just as suddenly, he pulled back.

She gasped, lips parted, chest heaving. In the dim light, her half-open eyes shimmered.

Julian studied her for a long moment, then leaned in again, brushing her lips with a gentler kiss—slow, almost reverent.

Lydia blinked, dazed by the abrupt change. Before she could recover, her hands moved instinctively, slipping down to his waist and tugging loose the tie of his robe.

…

Two days later, Lydia finally finished processing her experimental data and submitted everything before Friday.

Her workload lightened—at least until the clinical trials began.

On Saturday night, she met Monica Hayes at a downtown lounge.

She wore a fitted black knit top and loose black pants, her hair casually tied back. Under the warm bar lights, her pale skin seemed to glow, smooth as polished ivory.

She held a cocktail in one hand, head slightly bowed as she spoke softly to someone beside her.

“Wait, you know her?”

Sophie Reed stood in a shadowed corner of the bar, watching Lydia with quiet curiosity until someone bumped her shoulder.

She turned—it was a coworker, another waitress.

Sophie shook her head. “No.”

Her coworker chuckled. “Didn’t think so. A woman like that? Way out of our league. Did you see her watch? My friend and I saw one like that in the store window—the cheapest model costs more than most of us make in a year. And that woman next to her, the one in the green dress? That bag—limited edition. You can’t even buy it unless you’re on a waiting list. We could work our whole lives and never afford what they wear for a night out.”

Her words dripped with envy, but they weren’t wrong.

Sophie didn’t respond. When a customer waved her over, she quickly turned away to work.

—

“Damn it,” Monica swore, slamming her glass down. “Adrian Cole is such a two-faced bastard! He knew you and Vanessa were close, and he still went after her? What the hell—does he want the two of you to tear each other apart?”