Chapter 4
750 Words
Lucien's apartment building was in the Marais, nice enough, expensive enough, but nothing like the places Juliette was used to. She parked on the street and took the stairs two at a time.
The smell hit her the second she opened his door.
Weed. Alcohol. Something else she couldn't identify and didn't want to.
"Lucien?" she called, wrinkling her nose.
Music was playing somewhere deeper in the apartment. Something bass-heavy and obnoxious.
She found him in the living room, sprawled on the couch with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a joint in the other. His eyes were bloodshot. His shirt was half-unbuttoned. He looked like he'd been awake for three days straight.
"Baby!" He grinned when he saw her, his words slurring slightly. "You're back."
"It's two in the afternoon," Juliette said, staying near the doorway. "Why are you drinking?"
"Why not?" He took a swig from the bottle. "Come here. I missed you."
She didn't move. "We need to talk."
"We can talk later." He patted the couch beside him. "Come sit."
"Lucien, I'm serious."
"So am I." He set the bottle down and stood, swaying slightly. Crossed the room to her. Grabbed her waist and pulled her close.
His breath reeked of whiskey and smoke.
"I missed this," he murmured, his hands sliding down to her ass. "Missed you."
Juliette put her hands on his chest, pushing lightly. "That's not why I came."
"Then why did you come?" He leaned in to kiss her.
She turned her head. His lips landed on her cheek.
"Lucien, stop." She pushed harder this time. "I need to talk to you about something important."
He pulled back, frowning. "Fine. Talk."
Juliette took a breath. "My family's in trouble. The company's going bankrupt. My brother's facing prison. We need money. A lot of it."
Lucien blinked at her. "Okay?"
"I need your help."
He laughed. "Baby, I love you, but I don't have that kind of money."
"How much do you have?"
"I don't know. Maybe fifty thousand? In savings? I'm still expanding my company and I'm yet to sign the deal."
"Fifty thousand," Juliette repeated flatly.
"Yeah. What do you need? A hundred? Two hundred? I could probably get that if I—"
"Seven hundred and fifty million euros."
The room went silent except for the music still thumping in the background.
Lucien stared at her. "You're joking."
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
"Seven hundred and fifty million?" He shook his head, laughing again, this time with an edge of disbelief. "Jesus Christ, Julie. What did your family do?"
"It doesn't matter what they did. I need help."
"Well, I can't help you with that." He reached for her again. "But I can help you forget about it for a while."
His hands were on her hips now, pulling her closer. His mouth found her neck.
Juliette's skin crawled.
"Lucien, stop."
"Come on, baby. You're stressed. Let me take care of you."
His fingers were already sliding under the hem of her dress.
"I said stop." She shoved him hard.
He stumbled back, catching himself on the arm of the couch. "What the hell?"
"I came here because I needed help. Not this."
"Well, I told you I can't help." His voice was sharper now, irritation bleeding through the alcohol haze. "What do you want me to do? Rob a bank?"
Juliette stared at him. At this man she'd been dating for six months. This man who couldn't even stay sober long enough to have a serious conversation, who thought fifty thousand euros was a lot of money.
"You know what? Forget it."
She turned and walked toward the door.
"Where are you going?" he called after her.
"Away from you."
"Julie, come on. Don't be like that."
She didn't answer. She just kept walking. Down the stairs. Out into the street. Back to her car.
She sat in the driver's seat, hands shaking, staring at the dashboard.
One option.
That's all she had left.
One option she'd already tried and failed.
But failure wasn't an option anymore. Not with Tristan's future on the line. Not with her family's name about to be dragged through the mud.
She had to go back to Théodore.
Even if it meant begging. Even if it meant humiliating herself in ways she'd never imagined.
Even if it meant offering him the one thing she knew he'd always wanted.
Her.
Juliette closed her eyes. Taking in a breath, she started the engine.
- Writer
