CHAPTER THREE
842 Words
DRAWINGS AND SUSPICION
There was no noise in Julian's studio.
The morning light came through the broken blinds and cast long shadows over the coffee cups, sketchpads, pencils, measuring tools, and other things that were all over his desk. But in the middle of all the chaos was one perfect thing: a new sheet of parchment paper that had not been touched.
Not for long.
He let out a breath and put down the pencil.
Lines started to appear.
Not buildings. Not measurements.
Her.
Not literally, but something about Camille was already making sense of the structure. Sharp edges and angles. Power and quiet. A house that is meant to hide rather than protect. Like the space itself was meant to keep something inside a secret.
His hand stopped in the middle of the sketch.
Why would a woman who is that rich and powerful build a castle in the country?
And why pick him?
Camille—Behind Closed Doors
Camille sat in her sunken living room, wearing a silk robe. The fireplace was humming with low heat, even though it was warm outside.
Nadia sat across from her, perfectly calm and dressed like a woman who never slept.
Nadia said, "We've approved Julian Cross." "Today is the day his contracts are being signed. He won't have much access to the internet, and he'll use the company's encrypted tablet for all of his designs.
Camille nodded her head. "I don't want anything connected to his personal cloud or devices."
"He agreed without saying anything."
"Of course he did."
Nadia thought about it. Then: "I did a background check."
Camille raised an eyebrow.
"Julian's father's business didn't just go under. It was taken. An audit by the government. Funds that were not used properly. In old financial circles, the name Cross still turns heads.
Camille took a sip of her coffee. "So he's hungry."
Nadia's lips got thinner. "Or risky."
Camille put her cup down. "Most of the time, they're the same."
Julian: The Visit
Julian went back to Devaux Innovations later that day to get the project tablet and the access pass for the Suffolk site. The package was at the security desk, so there was no need to meet in person this time.
But as he was about to leave, someone called out.
"Mr. Cross?"
Nadia.
Her beauty was as precise as her walk, but it was also perfect and tightly controlled.
She said, "I wanted to say hello." "Nadia Quinn." "Chief Operations Officer."
Julian shook her hand. Her grip was stronger than I thought it would be.
Nadia suddenly said, "She's not an easy woman."
"Camille?"
"She is... demanding." Demanding. And not likely to be nice. If you can't handle her world, it's best to leave before it takes over your life.
Julian smiled, which made him laugh a little. "Sounds like you're giving me a warning."
"I'm here," she said flatly.
Julian turned his head. "Are you keeping her safe?"
Nadia didn't say anything.
She just turned around and left.
A look back at Camille when she was 17
A bed in a hospital.
Beeping monitors.
Her mother's body was weak, and her bones were visible through skin that used to hold warmth and scent.
Camille held her hand, stone-faced, even when she took her last breath.
The nurse tried to comfort her, but Camille wouldn't cry. Wouldn't scream. She got up, smoothed out her black skirt, and left the hospital.
She didn't go to the funeral.
Instead, she went right to a boardroom.
And began building.
Julian – First Visit to the Land
The Suffolk estate wasn’t land—it was isolation.
Fifty acres of dense woodland, rolling fields, and a central clearing marked with rough stakes in the earth. An old stone wall wrapped around the borders. No neighbors. No signs. No sounds but birds and wind.
Julian stepped out of the car, took a deep breath.
This wasn’t just a home project.
This was a retreat.
Or a prison.
He walked the perimeter slowly, sketchpad in hand, noting the dips, the sun’s angle, the silence.
Halfway through the path, he noticed a separate trail—narrow, wild, and intentionally overgrown.
He followed it a little.
It led to... a gate.
Iron. Old. Locked.
He marked it on the sketchpad.
Why would Camille want this hidden?
Camille – Watching
From a hidden camera feed on her estate tablet, Camille watched Julian move through the woods.
He didn’t just measure space—he listened to it. Moved with it.
Her fingers lingered over the pause button as he disappeared into the tree line.
“Don’t go too far,” she murmured to the screen.
Not yet.
Uneasy Dreams
That night, Julian returned to London exhausted.
He placed the sketchpad on his table and poured a glass of water.
But as he turned toward the window, something caught his eye.
A shadow.
Just for a second.
He moved to check—but nothing was there.
Still... something felt off.
Like he’d stepped into something much larger than a contract.
- Writer
