Leaving the chapel, Serena stormed straight into her car without looking back.
Violet and Julian got into another car together. The second the door shut, both of them dropped the act and slipped back into being strangers.
The car followed Serena’s lead, heading for the dinner she’d insisted on throwing. Violet stared out the window, realizing this deal wasn’t going to be nearly as simple as she thought.
Julian cut her a glance. “What’s wrong? Freaked out?”
She shrugged. “Whatever this is, I said yes. I’ll play the wife.”
Something tugged in his chest. He touched the band on his ring finger, then said lightly, “Guess I should give you the family intro. That woman back there is my stepmom, Serena. I had an older brother, but… when I was eighteen, he and my dad died in an accident.”
Violet’s eyes widened. She turned back toward him, and though he’d said it casually, she caught the flicker of sadness in his eyes—there and gone in a heartbeat before he masked it again.
He inhaled, then switched back to his usual tone. “You’ll meet my uncle and cousin soon. Don’t stress. Same rules as before—out there, we’re a blissfully in-love couple. Got it?”
His gaze was steady.
Violet met his eyes calmly. “Papers are signed. I’m on this ship whether I like it or not.”
Julian paused, then smirked. “Good. You’re smart. You don’t need me spelling out what to say—or what not to.”
“I get it.”
Silence settled over the car.
Violet reminded herself: one year. Survive a year, and her debt to him would be cleared. But that didn’t mean she trusted him. If anything, the last twelve hours proved he was anything but the shallow playboy he pretended to be. Whatever his real motives were, she’d have to tread carefully.
The car rolled through towering gates onto a sprawling estate that looked straight out of a movie. A long driveway lined with hedges and statues led to a massive mansion.
Julian helped her out of the car, their hands linked. Violet’s eyes lingered on the house, wide with awe.
Serena caught the look and sneered under her breath, “Country girl.” Then, heels clicking like gunfire, she marched ahead and asked the butler waiting at the door, “How’s the setup? Are the guests here?”
The butler had only gotten word two hours earlier—Serena wanted a wedding dinner. He’d assumed it was Marcus’s event; wasn’t that one still three months away? Only after pressing did he realize it was for Julian.
Panic didn’t begin to cover it. Pulling off something like this on such short notice with Serena’s legendary pickiness breathing down his neck? The kitchen was in absolute chaos, but luckily the estate’s gardens had fresh produce on hand, so they’d scraped it together.
“Per your instructions, only family was invited. Around twenty guests, almost all arrived.”
“Good.” Serena exhaled, a touch less tense. “That boy blindsiding me with a wedding—nearly gave me a heart attack. But I couldn’t leave things bare; otherwise people would say I don’t care about him.”
“Oh, ma’am, don’t say that. Everyone knows you treat Julian like your own. You’ve spoiled him rotten since the day you married in.” The butler led her toward the dining hall.
Serena’s expression softened with a trace of sadness. “And yet he doesn’t even tell me about something this important.”
“Well, he’s always been impulsive. Maybe this is just another phase.”
She sighed. “It’s not that I mind who he marries. I just… how do I know she isn’t after his money? All I want is for him to understand I’m on his side.”
“You’ll see,” the butler soothed. “Give it some time, then sit him down and talk it through.”
Julian lingered outside the front doors, giving Violet’s hand a squeeze. “What’s this look? You like the place? Hate to break it to you, but you’ll be disappointed—it’s just the old estate my grandparents used to live in. They’ve passed, no one really stays here. We just use it for family gatherings once in a while.”
“No, it’s just… it feels familiar.” The mansion was modeled after a British castle, and since she’d grown up in England, she couldn’t help the flash of recognition.
Julian took it as a casual remark and didn’t press. They stepped inside the main house.
Before she could enter the hall, Serena had a maid whisk Violet upstairs to change. The hallways stretched on endlessly until the maid brought her to a room near the staircase. Inside hung a strapless sapphire-blue mermaid gown with a sweeping train. Before the dress even touched her skin, the maid cinched Violet’s corset so tight she nearly lost her breath.
Violet realized then it wasn’t about clothes—it was about control. Her new mother-in-law was already staking her claim.
When she stepped back out, the maid instructed her to take the other staircase down; it would lead straight to the main hall. But halfway there, she froze.
A man stood waiting.
He looked like Julian—but older, sharper. He stepped forward confidently and offered his hand. “You must be Violet. No wonder Julian’s smitten. You’re stunning.”
Violet frowned and instinctively took a step back.
He gave a small laugh. “Sorry, forgot to introduce myself. I’m Marcus—Julian’s cousin.”
She steadied herself, gave his hand a polite shake. “Nice to meet you. May I ask what you’re doing here?”
Marcus’s eyes swept over her. “Let me put it this way: we were all pretty shocked to hear Julian ran off and married you. He’s… well, he’s always been a flighty one. Like a bird with no nest. He’s family, yes, but I’d be lying if I said I thought he was ready to be anyone’s husband.”
His tone was coated with sympathy, but his body language dripped superiority. It reminded her of Serena; the resemblance was uncanny.
Violet raised a brow. “I love him. To me, he is the right husband.”
Her calm bluntness caught Marcus off guard. His face tightened. “Plenty of women have chased after him. Remember there was a starlet. Dated him for three months, thought she was the one. He dropped her, and she made a scene at our house. Same story, different face. It happens all the time. So… take it as friendly advice.”
He studied her carefully as he spoke.
And suddenly Violet understood why Julian told her not to bother with polite manners. She tilted her head, expression unbothered. “But I’m not like them. Julian married me.”
Marcus chuckled. “GOD, you really are naive. You do know we have the best lawyers money can buy, right? Even if you’re married in, you won’t see a dime.”
When she didn’t reply, he took her silence as a c***k in her armor. He shook his head. “You’re still young. Better cut your losses now, while you’re still in the cooling-off period.”
“Walk away before you get hurt.”
His last line landed more like a warning than advice.